Alder's Grove

One of the first things I planted here – at House Thorn – were chives.

I got them off a freecycle or plantcycle (same idea), back in the days when those lists were doing well here in Ithaca.

(The concept of either is that you post “I have this thing I don’t need anymore” or “I have this thing I need, does anyone have it?”  I’ve used it to get: a scythe, cat litter buckets (Our cat litter comes in sort of cartons and I wanted to try cat litter bucket planters), air mattresses, a broken breadmaker… We’ve gotten rid of a safe, a burn barrel, a turtle sandbox…)

I also went and got the earliest-blooming crocuses that were available.

Of course, since we moved into the house in mid-September, we discovered the next Spring that the people who had owned the house before us had been of a similar mind – there are spring blooming bulbs all over this place, so it’s a riot of color from the first thaw through the end of day-lily season.

But CHIVES.

I hate March, I’m afraid.  Really dislike the month. (T was explaining why to a friend and he summarized it as “the color.”)  It’s grey and muddy! And it’s a tease; you want to plant but you can’t.

The last freeze date in our area is mid-May, just for reference.

But CHIVES.  Chives are food.  They are fresh and they really taste good only fresh. And when the snow is just starting to melt, when it’s just thinking about melting, then you have chives.

This little bit of green pops up in your garden (I have an “invasives” bed I’ve mentioned before, where I let various chives and mints duke it out. I tried oregano once and I ended up with hybridized mint-regano.) and it’s like All Is Not Lost.  Things Will Grow Again. Here, have some Food.

It’s amazing. Alliums are a gift and we should cherish them forever.

🧅

Want more?

🧅

Other Chive Posts:

Gardening! March 23, 2012

Life in the Country, Tuesday edition (Actually Monday edition, just really late). March 21, 2012

On Chives  April 9, 2014

Spring! Chives – May 16, 2013

Mirrored from Alder's Grove Fiction.

T found some baby pictures of the boy cats and I am on a rampage of nostalgia, remembering them when they were wee little kittens.

We went to visit them — and their equally fluffy mother cat — and brought them home the same night. They were little grey puffballs then, small enough to fit on T’s lap together with room left over.

I remember thinking — saying, even — that I couldn’t wait for them to grow into their personalities, because at that point, they were… mostly babies, adorable but not really doing a whole lot except being hyper  and adorable.

Drake & Gatsby had been such personality-filled old men that having these little infant kitties around again was, well, weird.

But they pretty quickly developed or showed us personalities, probably even before we named them (They were Thing One and Thing Two for a while, or Lefty and Righty for the arm that has a full white sleeve (As you look at them, if I recall correctly.).)

Read the rest of this entry »

Mirrored from Alder's Grove Fiction.

Hello all!  It’s wintertime!

And I have a SLED!

Have I mentioned this sled before?

I mean, it’s nothing exciting; it’s a plastic molded sled of the sort you buy your kid so they can go down the hill, or at least it’s really similar to the one I had to go sledding downhill at the nearby park (Rochester is on the plain that used to be in Lake Ontario, so the option is the park with a hill (which may have been manufactured, I never asked) or… well, that’s about it.  In Ithaca, I could sled half my commute, if I was feeling daring.)

What it is, for me, is just about the size of the totes we use to haul firewood. 

Mirrored from Alder's Grove Fiction.

So, the first year we were in our house, someone came onto the property and just started picking apples.  Claimed they knocked, but T. was in the garage and they didn’t, say, leave a note or anything, they just started picking.

T. told them to Get Off My Property and, as far as we know, they’ve never come back.

I giggle about this sometimes.

Couple years ago, this guy who looked like a hipster except with a thick Eastern European accent stopped by and wanted to photograph our tree.  I told him only if he took some apples. 😉  He took like three reusable-shopping-bags worth and came back later for more.

Last year, a nice guy brought us a gallon of cider BEFORE he started picking apples, and brought us some maple syrup too, and then more cider.  Took a lot of apples – we did not have any shortage, let me tell you.

Just got a note from him the other day and, in addition, there’s a nice older lady who stopped by with her grandkids to pick some apples.  Hooray!  I am super thrilled by people who come to me to get apples.  (Especially when they leave cider behind).

But only if they ask first.

Or, you know, happen to bike by while we’re picking apples.

Or come with a good recipe for something we haven’t done with apples yet.

(And we still have more than enough for ourselves, let me tell you, even without breaking into the weird apple trees in the hedge row).

Also, tonight for dinner: Kale Apple Soup.

Mirrored from Alder's Grove Fiction.

The Meme Master Post

I do plan on finishing T-Z; you guys left me some wonderful prompts to play with. In the meantime, however, here's my Reflections post, as asked for by the Blogging A-Z People.

First impression: I really like doing A-Z challenges, and I really don't think I'll officially do Blogging A-Z again.

I've talked about this with a few of my readers, but for anyone else who's interested, here are my reasons. It's a bit cranky, so I've put it behind a cut.
( Read more... )

The Meme Master Post

N is for nereids standing in fountains

The city of Scheffenon had a large number of fountains - to a casual visitor, it might seem that every second intersection was marked with the blue-tiled, en-statued pieces, and that every park needed at least three. The grand park at the center of Scheffenon sported a fountain easily as big as a house, presided over by a giant statue of the sea god and four nerieds in attendance. Dolphins, fish, sharks and octopi were common motifs in these fountains, but by far the most statues were of nereids.

It seemed strange, visitors would murmur, to have a place so buttoned-up, so old-fashioned, so restrained as Scheffenon have so many casually naked girls (and a few boys) in their statuary. Perhaps there would be a bit of bronze sea foam covering important bits, or a bit of marble drapery serving as a modesty cover, but, tails or legs, for the most part the sea-spirit statuary was naked as the day they were born.

It was altogether strange, visitors would murmur, while they enjoyed Scheffenon's clean streets and clean air, the amazing benefits the cool northern sea air had on one's health and the way one felt refreshed for weeks after leaving.

It was altogether creepy, the more astute visitors would whisper, how the eyes of the statues seemed to follow you, and how the sea near Scheffenon was devoid of anything bigger than a large fish for miles and miles. Not even and air-spirit, and the world knew how they loved to play with the spirits of the water. Not even a murmur of the sea god, when all of Scheffenon seemed to worship his reign.

In the same universe as Around Elephants and The Club, which is probably the same setting as Edora & Rodegard (here & here), and which now needs a setting name...

The Meme Master Post

I is for Islands.

The first thing that always comes to mind about islands is the Thousand Islands. According to Wikipedia, "the Thousand Islands constitute an archipelago of 1,864 islands that straddles the Canada-U.S. border in the Saint Lawrence River as it emerges from the northeast corner of Lake Ontario." For me, they were a common vacation spot for our family (enough of a drive to be "away," not so far to be onerous) - and the site of one of my strong memories of getting lost as a child.

We usually camped on Wellesley Island (State Park) for at least part of the trip, and, being a state park on an island in the early 80's, I was allowed to pretty much wander as I would.

I don't remember exactly what happened, except that I had been very certain that I knew my way around, and it turned out I wasn't quite right. I remember that two Older Girls (My mind fills in teased hair - this was the 80's - but I think that's just my generic mental picture for Older Girls) - were helping me try to find my mom. But I wasn't really bothered. Mom, on the other hand, was frantic.

I have only two or three memories of getting really lost in public places, but to this day, I get a little freaked out if I lose my mom - or whoever I'm with, husband, friend, group - in a store.

Which is nothing to the time on a Wellesley Island beach that some awful kid threw rocks at my head, but that, as they say, is a story for another time. For this time, as we are talking about Islands and not awful kids, I'll say that if you're ever in the area, you should check out Boldt Castle on Heart Island. It's a lovely place, although the last time I was there was twenty years past. George Boldt started the castle for his wife, but construction stopped - in 1904 - when his wife died. In the years I was visiting the 1000 islands, the castle was being slowly restored. I don't know what has happened since, though the wiki article says renovation has continued.

Many of my warmer background childhood & teen memories center on these two of the Thousand Islands. A googlemaps look up tells me they're less than four hours from my home now - maybe I should visit again.

The Meme Master Post

G is for Gifts, both given and got

When I was a kid, my maternal grandmother gave my mother striped pastel towels for Christmas. My mom responded politely, and I don't think I noticed until we got home (Because *I* thought they were awesome) and my dad was ribbing Mom. But Mom didn't like the towels. "Oh. Thank you. Striped towels."

In our house, it became code for gifts you didn't really want.

I remember an earlier situation - two, actually. One year, my maternal family gave me a Raggedy Ann doll for Christmas, and then my father's family gave me a similar Raggedy Ann doll later in the day. I don't remember /doing/ it, but I clearly remember being teased about throwing the second doll aside, being completely non-interested.

That's when I learned you weren't supposed to be less than enthusiastic about any gift.

A later time - Cabbage Patch Doll time, for those who remember the time and theme - my maternal family gave me a knock off Cabbage Patch. I remember being sort of disappointed by it, because the way the face was molded looked like it had a runny nose. But I remember naming it and trying gamely to love it. And then my paternal family gave me a real Cabbage Patch doll, one my father's step-father had stood in line for - and the woman in that family gave him shit because it was a boy doll. I didn't care. I loved it.

Quite some time later: we were helping a friend move, a friend who we'd given quite a few years of New Years' gifts. Among the "discard" piles were at least two of these gifts. Now... some of his gifts had gotten quietly regifted, too. But it still stuck with me as a bit of a slap, even though I know it hadn't been intended that way.

When I pick out gifts for people, I am always thinking about striped towels and trying, hard, not to be the person giving tone-deaf gifts. When I get gifts, it's - well, you know, sometimes people do give you striped towels. Sometimes it's because they don't know you, sometimes it just doesn't hit as well as they expected. But you still smile, and you're still pleased. They tried, after all.

I wonder how much of this Amazon Wish Lists help mitigate, for everyone involved. It always feels a bit like cheating to me - like you couldn't Know the Right Gift. On the other hand, it means you're unlikely to be giving striped towels. Unless, you know, you've got pastel striped towels on your wish list.

The Meme Master Post

A is for Apoc burning bright...

It's hard for me to say anything about apocs that I haven't already said. After all, I've written about apocs here, here, and here.

I grew up with the vague feeling that the world might end any day. My parents had some feelings that way, although I don't think they were well-articulated, more the general sense of dread of the Cold War. I also grew up in a house where the power would go out and stay out for hours, maybe as long as a day - and when I was thirteen, the power went out all over the city for an entire week. Combine that with almost all family vacations involving camping - possibly all vacations; I can't remember any that didn't - and I have this comfortable foundation need to be prepared for any off-the-grid sort of emergency.

That's my personal background on apocalypses. Even though our current rural property is close enough to a major line that it rarely loses power for more than ten minutes, I'm still more comfortable having the wood-burning stove (It's cheaper!) and would be happier still if I had a way to make hot water/make the water run (Yay well water if the electricity went out. In that sense, I'm prepared for small emergencies much more than the apocalypse. Then again - small emergencies are a lot more likely. (And, considering my habit of buying food in bulk when it's most on sale, we have Way More than the recommended three-day supply of food.)

I think one of the reason post-apoc settings have always appealed to me in fiction boils down to my feeling of disconnection with the modern world. There are myriad marvelous wonders - but there's also the daily grind and the social rules that seemed to rub me the wrong way. If there was no more modern world, a little voice sometimes whispers, there'd be no more nine-to-five.

Apocalypses are as much a fantasy/speculation as dragons in my mind, and I'm comfortable with that. (Though it's a bit easier to plan for the former than the latter!)

If I were to do a series of Five Things... blog posts, what sort of subjects would you like to see?

I've been a little quiet the last couple weeks, at least compared to my normal output.

I've been working on submissions and commissions primarily - see New Year's Resolution of 4 submissions/month, which I may have to modify. Currently, I'm working on a piece for a coming-soon project - it involves crows!

I've also been working on a commission from Kuro_neko: Year Zero Addergoole!

I'm still playing with Trope-Bingo (Jahnan & Yira) and my for-fun story (Amrit & Mieve), as well as Luke Visits Doomsday, but all three of those are better if posted in longer pieces instead of my normal 250-300-word blorts.

AND I've been considering taking some of my older pieces, re-working them, and releasing them as small collections.

Thus, a question for you: * What would you like to see as a collection (Setting, specific character, a story that stuck in your head)?

* And what do you think would sell?

Edited to add: Wyste reminds me that there was another question: * What should I do next/continue in regards to serials? More Edally? Angry Aetherist is nearing its end. More Addergoole? More Inner Circle?

Cheers,
Lyn

I got this wordpress blog, more or less by accident, and when I found out all of my wordpress comments were linking to it...

...well, I made it a (hopefully) comprehensive list of my writing.

It seemed better than having it sit around as an empty "hello world" page, anyway.