May and Muchmore

Sunlight from the back 40 creating great patterns on the white walls and ceiling.

Missing Judy

For years, I would find a pot of pansies on my doorstep every May 1. It wasn't until a few years ago that I found out these were a May Day gift from a good friend — Judy from the post office. From the post office isn't her last name, of course, but those of you who know me well are familiar with my habit of reminding other friends of how I know "other" friends by connecting them to the origins of our friendships. For instance, I met Fern from the flower shop because of becoming a regular at Earth Designs, her business. Then there's Frank from the band and Debbie from next door. The list goes on. These are people that used to see each other once a year at my Caroling Party--the frame of reference is easier to remember than last names.

But back to May Day pansies. Small remembrances like that are some of the best surprises in my book. And, if you hadn't guessed, I'm missing those pretty pansies this year. So Judy, thanks for the memories and I miss you, too.

Enchanted April

Did you see the movie "Enchanted April?" It is a favorite. A period piece -- two average English women at the turn of the century despondent over the dismal grey of the English spring find a way to rent an Italian villa. Their adventure is a subtle fusion of the black and white to technicolor transition of Garland's travels from Kansas to Oz and Discovery's quiet time lapse progression of a bud to bloom. Muchmore has been very like that. A month ago, the leaves were beginning to open. Over the course of the month, there have been successive blankets of color carpeting the landscape. First it was the lime froth of new growth followed quickly by the cream and lemon of daffodil fields and the bright yellow of forsythia hedges. Then an explosion of pinks, purples, and whites as the azaleas, plums, apples, and cherries bloomed. The ivory petals of magnolias are falling. Two weeks ago the electric violet of the Eastern redbud began to dot the corridors of sycamores and maples. Can you tell that spring is my favorite time of year? I was born in spring and married in spring. It is the time of new beginnings which sounds very stereotypic, but I it's true. Every spring I feel that new start profoundly and it is always a comforting and hopeful time for me.

OK, spring has its challenges. For instance, I was enamored of little white flowers dotting what looked like straggly hedges surrounding the entire property. Later, I learned, these are Amur Honeysuckle. They are native to southern Ohio and invasive. Many folks find them an annoyance. But it's spring and I'm a "Glad Game" kind of girl, so I'm appreciating their present beauty and grateful for anything that provides privacy and grows fast on this large piece of clay.

Muchmore Music

Growing up on the farm in LaFox, Illinois, I remember one summer when an injured chicken hawk showed up at the farm. As I remember it, Dad helped it heal and somewhere there is 8mm footage of it perched on his arm and then flying off. My family knows that I've always been afraid of birds. My theory is that the paranoia began when I was 7 and my brother, Ken, chased the girls at my birthday party with a chicken claw amputated during a butchering session. He pulled tendons and made it move and delighted in the screams of my second grade classmates. I've gotten generally better about birds, but I still get weirded out if I'm surrounded by a flock or one flies too close. That doesn't mean I don't like them or think they are pretty or interesting. I just have personal space issues with them.

All the trees at Muchmore make it a bit of a bird sanctuary. I see hawks and cardinals. Some finches and a mourning dove visited the feeder outside my bedroom window last week. I haven't seen as many as I've heard. I need to do a little research to figure out what songs are being sung and by whom. There are really interesting melodies I've never heard before. Being so close to the river, I understand that it is common to see eagles. I wish that there were yellow finches like the ones at the farm in Belmont.

And Much Less Music

In January on the heels of New Year, I finally started looking for bands to play with. Since March I've been singing with one of them -- The Jump Jivin Big Band. It isn't the level of talent or organization that I'm used to, but it is a big band, I get to sing, and the guys appreciate what I can do. In my search for a better fit, I picked up the card of a guitarist in a local restaurant but haven't had the time to call and see what I can get going. The Jump band has a longer list of singers than I've ever seen. I'm the only one with professional experience. Did I mention that singing with this band has the added benefit of making me feel svelte? The four other core singers are my age or older and twice my size or better. There are the sisters that are Patsy Kline wannabes, the singing telegram woman with the church choir vibrato, and the kareoke singer. I was a hit in a dress and high heels last gig. The standard uniform was black poly pants and tent tops. But the year is still young and I need to stop working so much overtime so that I can chase the "musical" rabbit down the hole. Tomorrow is the second gig I'll sing with them--a school benefit in northern Kentucky.

The Snooty Fox Tour

"Sisters" Kathy Krusiec and Shirley Connor were down the last weekend of April. They brought provisions: Leinenkugel's Honeyweiss and Wollersheim's Prairie Fume as well as cuttings from my McFarland garden and theirs. Though they came under the pretense of seeing me, their real objective was to do major power shopping at as many Snooty Fox locations as possible. Kathy's eagle eye spied Snooty's on our intense 3-day house hunt last August. Despite a very intense schedule of house tours, Kathy managed to fit in a productive trip to the local store and left with a coat that had $15 in the pocket.

Snooty's is an upscale resale shop selling clothes, household items, and furniture. The local store is about a half mile from me and one of the best since it is less than a mile from upscale Indian Hills (you know....where Frampton lives). In the course of three days, we travelled to 5 of the 8 locations. We only missed one furniture store. This was amazing given that Shirley came and left with a very nasty bronchial condition.

The girls and I entertained my realtor and his wife and enjoyed a bit of time to sip wine and talk trash. We made good memories and some great buys.

Kathy and Shirley at the Muchmore table. Here's to the ladies that lunch.

The Muchmore Dinner Salon with the "sisters" and Andrew and Victoria. Menu: paella.

Kathy post-party dishes. Some things know no geographic boundaries.

I bought a fabulous chair and the week after a wonderful stool for the master bath, jewelry box, and pine chest (see below).

Snooty treasures.

The girls left early on Tuesday morning with the back of Shirley's Esplanade packed with furniture and lamps. Miss you guys.

Findley Market

The weekend before last was the Flying Pig Marathon. (They have a thing about pigs here--more on another post.) I'd have considered walking but not in the rain that monopolized the weekend. Instead, I went in search of Cincinnati's very old city market.

It is a much smaller version of the one I visited with "Sister" Sue Wilderotter in DC. I loved mostly just looking at the amazing cases of meats, fish, and pastry...and especially the spice booth. I got phenomenal deals on fresh vegetables and fruit from an older nearly toothless guy with a perpetual smile. If I shot a glance at anything--he'd offer two for one. I bought a swordfish kabob and treated myself to a canoli, too.

Emerald Ash Bore and the Muchmore Deer Gardens

Especially for Fred Juergens--an update on the trees that came down in the center of Mariemont. Several weeks ago I was part of the collective gasp of local residents witnessing the elimination of about 8 trees in the boulevard divide downtown. Victims of the Emerald Ash Bore--it was all the talk at Starbucks across the street on the day they were taken down. It made me sick to my stomach knowing I will never see trees that tall there in my lifetime. Happily, they quickly planted new trees that are quite tall--but definitely babies in comparison.

The Mariemont Boulevard sans the elder statesman arbor.

Next generation: Trees on the truck.

Young trees in place.

As for my garden, it is growing. I have planted some myrtle, purple salvia, lilies, and hosta from Wisconsin. I was told that hosta is deer lettuce and was and wasn't surprised when I saw plants chewed down. What surprised me was that there were only certain places where it was eaten and other places it was perfectly intact. Deer. Are they dense or what?

After the yellow lilies had bloomed. Purple sage in the foreground and snow balls in back.

Geraniums and some little blue vining flower in the window boxes.

Hostas from the old home ready for transplanting. Current Score: Deers-4 Muchmore-8.

Deck garden: tomatoes, strawberries, cucumbers, squash, peppers, cilantro, and chives.

Red peonies planted as an homage to the hedge at the Scott Farm in LaFox.

Life and Other Sleep Stealers...

It is 3:15am on Sunday morning. The past week has introduced a few items to disturb my rest. Tonight I have tried some usually effective ways to distract myself. I did the leisurely hot bath and quiet movies in bed to no avail. Tomorrow I will try to physically exhaust myself with the lawn, the gym, or both. For now, blogging has made me a little sleepier--so adieu and beunos noches from Mt. Muchmore.