Baby Kittens, Who Could Resist?

The very first in this season's line of kittens for the Crazy Old Tomato Lady's garden.

The variety is "Gladiator" from Burpee's Seed catalog of Roma-like tomatoes. They're supposed to produce some spectacular fruits, so we'll give them a try. I haven't started my own tomatoes for a few years, so this has been a treat. I've moved the seedlings from the sunny window in the front room to the sunnier, hotter window in the kitchen. After the coming chilly nights the next few days, they'll be transitioning to the outdoors by playing on the front porch during the warm afternoons, and being brought back indoors at night.

I hope they do well. The rest of the tomato areas will be inhabited by the wild and wooly Early Girls and the draft-horse powerhouse Shady Ladies.

In addition to tomatoes, we'll be planting sweet corn, watermelons, canteloupes, and maaaaybe a cucumber. And peppers. And I hear Alex is doing herbs. And who knows what else?

Today's weather included drizzle, sunshine, downpours, hail, sun again, and a cold wind. Good for kittens to stay inside a little while longer.

Looks Cool in the Morning

Back in 1986, when I saw my backyard fence look like this, I was sure I had an irresponsible neighbor who was surely going to set the property on fire.

After our drenching rains soaked the world of California, this morning the sun came up in a cloudless sky, and steamed the excess wetness out.

Back in pre-1985 Pennsylvania, fences didn't steam, and February was a month of cold slushy days and dirty snow. Twenty years later, here in the Central Valley, I now know that a smoky-looking fence is a sure sign of spring.

Tools of the Trade

From the left: grooming mitt, leather gloves to protect my hands from cold and potential leash-burns, a thin (and cheap) kennel lead. Then a short black goat-lead (yes, goat, you read that right), two chain collars, a green nylon collar for a dog to wear when he's riding in the car, a leather leash that originally belonged to Babe, and a 10 foot training leash.

Not represented is a soft red slip lead because it was in the car.

Bernie made me this cute wooden rack for Kermit's stuff. It hangs on the wall behind the bedroom door, perfect for a left-handed grab while my right hand signals Kermit to sit or lie down to get ready for an outing.

The mitt and gloves are pretty understandable, but why so many things, and what is their purpose?

The thin kennel lead is something I can tuck in any pocket (I have one in the glove compartment of the car, too) and use to show Kermit what I want him to do, such as lie down and stay put in any given place instead of pestering people. It's a slip lead; it has an eye at one end and a handle on the other. That way it can hang loosely around the dog's neck if the dog is calm, or be tightened under the dog's ears to control his head. What Kermit has learned from it is that he is to pay attention to what I want him to do. It's not a punishment, it's a permit to relax and not have to think things out for himself.

The goat lead is a nylon handle with a snap end. It hooks to Kermit's chain collar. At that arm-length and dog-height, he doesn't need to put any pressure on it to walk properly at my side. Lillian had one when she was showing goats for 4-H, and I knew it could be a useful tool.

The two chain collars ... one was Howie's, and fit Kermit when I got him. A "choke" collar like that should have a four-inch drop -- uhh, that is, if you tighten it up high on the neck under the dog's ears, there should be four inches of chain running to your leash. This kind of collar is not to choke a dog, but a quick tug makes a clanking symbol to Pay Attention Now. Babe's old chain collar is in a secret place in my studio, too big for Kermit, as Kermit doesn't have the heavy thick neck pelt that Babe did. But Howie's chain collar is now too small for his froggy successor.

The nylon collar is simply for car travel, so Kermit can still his head out the window and not put nicks in the glass with the chain collar. I don't like what nylon collars do to fur, so it's strictly a car outfit.

The leather lead is what I use most often lately; the 10 foot training lead is handy for when we're out in the woods and I don't want him off leash to chase squirrels, and was invaluable when Kermit was just learning how to go for a walk -- I could use it as a slip lead to control his big head, but the long length was good for letting him sniff the new world he found himself in.

But lately, he's been "getting it" and walking pretty darn gentlemanly with the leash hanging in a loop, putting no pressure at all on my hand. Makes me feel good, seeing my big dog padding along at my side, checking on my attention to make sure he's doing right.

Right now, he's coiled on an oversized ottoman by my knees, waiting to see what we're going to do next, dozing until I'm ready to move. Oh, good dog.

Happy New Year! And Food! And Dog!

Bernie's grand experiment this past fall was to attempt to grow Brussels sprouts in pots in our front yard farm. I'd given it a half-hearted try the previous year, but planted them too late -- I got to eat some of the foliage, but they never made those cute little mini-cabbage shapes. Bernie has had much more success.

Today he decided that some of them were big enough to eat. So we cooked them in bacon fryings with diced onion. Melt the bacon fat, add the onions, let them sweat down a little, then put in the halved Brussels sprouts, stirring gently now and then. When the color is bright green, cover them and let them steam themselves for a few minutes. Then flavor with salt and garlic powder, stir and steam again. They're done when a fork can penetrate them tenderly.

Holy smoley, they were delicious! Of course, as with just about all food, the sweet intensity of the flavor was so much better coming out of the garden minutes before. Yes, fresh is better than produce that sits in bins for days or weeks.

I love how they look like little knobby palm trees, and based on our culinary experience today, Bernie says he wants to plant a lot more of them next fall. I agree. More Brussels sprouts, more red-leaf lettuce, less spinach and chard and collards.

Yes, of course I have a picture of Kermit on his office chair near the table where I work. When I picked up the camera, he looked at me as though he expected to be photographed. He was very proud of himself today: he helped me unload the throw rugs from the dryer, every one of them. He's a working dog.

2017 is coming in with a deluge. I even heard a rumor that some of the reservoirs are going to fill to pre-drought levels. I certainly hope so, but I'll believe it when I see it. In the mean time, we have tentative plans to visit a somewhat flooded soccer field on Monday -- we're supposed to get a whopper of a rain over the weekend. Kermit is going to love it...

Happy New Year for 2017

In 2016, I did not make as much of an artistic effort as I would have liked. I'm hoping that 2017 will be a little better in that regard.

The big things in 2016? An expanded front yard garden, with over 150 pounds of tomatoes, a year's worth of turnips, my first successful canteloupes and cabbages, and more chard than I can eat or give away.

And Kermit the Frog-Dog. He's about a year and three months old now, hopefully as big as he'll ever get, and blossoming with a sweet and gentle personality. When I first got him, he was very needy-puppy-don't-mess-with-your-laptop, but with the newly-donated furniture in our front room, he has his own chair right behind where I work on the Press. I pull out the computer, and he hops up on his chair and snoozes like a perfect Office Dog. Maybe he'll let me get more art done in the coming year.

In spite of not doing enough art in the past year, I did renew my love/hate relationship with water colors, and revisited my teen efforts (crap, 46 years ago???) with oil pastels.

Do I make any resolutions for the new year? Not really. I'd like to do some art work every day, but I know that it's not, at this time, a realistic goal. I know I'll walk more with Kermit, garden more with 10 raised boxes in the front yard, and learn how to lay hardwood laminate flooring (starting in a week or so). I'll keep the Piker Press going.

That's probably enough.

Happy New Year, everybody.

A Surprise Snack in the Flower Pot

What the heck?

Who knew that ornamental sweet potato vines would produce -- sweet potatoes?

And not only are they edible, they're delicious with a little butter and salt.

Kind of looks like plumbing under the sink, though.

The Frog in Autumn

Some people might say that I am besotted with this dog. I can only counter that I have loved all the dogs I've had in my life. Kermit is no exception.

Kermit is also a dog with NO undercoat. None. Under that flat black hair he is naked. And he gets cold. We've had a few chilly nights, and since we sleep with the door open to the air, I've been awakened at 3am a number of times by a big froggy beast who forcefully pastes himself against my back to get warm. If I drape a blanket over him, he settles in.

So I got him a sweater.

Extra large.

I wasn't sure how stacking would work out after having surgery on my left hand, but it was fine.  A non-stick bandage kept the area clean, a light cotton work glove padded it even more, and then the leather work glove over top -- no problems.

Of course the highs were huddling very close to 100 degrees every day that I stacked -- doesn't matter if I get wood in July or August, the heat always soars for the dirty, strenuous wood-work.

Interestingly, this year the stacking seemed a lot easier, and I worked for longer stretches than previous years. For that, I guess I have Kermit to thank. The priority of walking him each morning for 40 minutes has really paid off in terms of my health.

Speaking of which big black pup, he's really coming along (so to speak) with walking on a leash. We've been walking through town instead of on the outskirts, and I'm pleased with his progress as he adjusts to the hustle and bustle on the streets.

Ahhh ... Football Again

So imagine me, eagerly using the modern technology of Direct TV to search, last Sunday, for the first pre-season NFL football game, the Hall of Fame game.

No one else in the house was particularly interested, largely because the Hall of Fame game is pretty much an exhibition game (it does rhyme with "lame") and has no meaning for the season. Still, it was the Colts and the Packers, and who wouldn't want to see if Andrew Luck has healed up well, and watch for that nasty glint Aaron Rodgers gets in his eyes when he knows his team is going to shellac the opponents?

Right, not many people care, but I'm one of the few.

I find Channel 206 with a minimum of effort (I really, really like Direct TV) and tune in to hear the announcer saying, "We don't know if the game will be canceled or not at this point."

WHAAAAAT????

Apparently some doofus -- maybe that should be capitalized, because I think that this mess may have re-defined the appellation -- some Doofus overseeing the painting of the turf's logos didn't know the difference between field paint and exterior building paint (or didn't bother to check to see what the crew had picked up from Supply) and the field was ruined. Especially after they sprayed some solvent on it trying to fix the mess, and I don't know of any exterior paint solvent that isn't toxic as hell.

Game over. Good thing I didn't make up my chicken wings to eat during the game. Or a plate of noshes, either of which I would not have done for the Hall of Fame game anyway.

But it would have been NFL Football. So I've had to wait another four days. Tonight there are six games being played, and I am going to watch all of them. Well, no, I won't, but whatever game is on, I'm going to watch it.

I'm going to be looking with hungering eyes for those long, bullet-like passes, the fancy footwork of running backs, and the defensive pounces that can sit a quarterback on his butt on the field in seconds. Will Garoppolo start for the Patriots? And will the Denver defense look sharp again this year?

Can't wait to find out!

The Bountiful Summer

For me, this is one of the most beautiful sights of summer: sweet corn -- from my own front yard.

Apparently the raised planter right next to the sidewalk has just the perfect climate for corn, because the plants got eight feet tall and produced full-sized ears. The pretty containers of corn out on the back patio don't do quite so well, not as tall, and with smaller (but not less tasty) ears. Maybe it's because so many people walk by on the sidewalk and admire the urban farming project -- maybe it gives the corn there more self-esteem.

We had plenty of corn from that 6' x 2 1/2' box, enough for several meals (and I mean corn as the main ingredient) and some to put away in the freezer. The variety is Burpee's On Deck corn, developed specifically for container gardening.

The other wonder this year was a successful experiment -- growing canteloupe in a raised bed. I'd never grown canteloupe before, and wasn't sure the plants would set fruit. Well, they sure did! We've been eating canteloupe like crazy, something we just couldn't really afford before. Delicious!

The melon variety, incidentally, is again a Burpee's product: Olympic Express. We plan on planting them again next spring.

But even while we feast on melons and corn and tomatoes, we're looking ahead a month and planning where to place the brussels sprouts, the beets, the turnips -- winter gardening will be much more varied.

Ah, but back to corn. I'd still like to lay in another five or six pounds of sweet corn for winter ... I wonder if the fruit stand up the road has some for a good price.

Moose and Squirrel

Alex sent me this photo of Joma and Kermit with the title "Moose and Squirrel."

Why I'm Quiet

I had surgery on my left hand last Thursday.

The condition is called a "contracture" and it is a gradual tightening of a tendon. This one was in my left index finger, making my finger bend inward. It's been years since it started, and I wasn't worried about it, until this past year, when it seemed to be getting worse rapidly.

Now it's taken care of, the doctor says. In a week, stitches will come out and the mini-cast will come off. In the mean time, typing is a challenge. Well, actually, anything I'd normally do two-handed is a challenge.

But I did walk with Kermit again this morning, and we saw a glorious red sunrise come up through the hazy sky.

Puppies

Just in case anyone was wondering how Kermit is fitting into the household...

Joma is four years old. Kermit is 10 months old. And while we still make sure that Joma is safely out of harm's way when Kermit gets silly-puppy-gallops, he's as gentle as a stuffed toy with her. She does get frustrated when he gets in between her and where she wants to be, mostly because there is no way she can shove him hard enough to make him move.

Joma's shirt? She adores playing "soccer" with kids her age. As you can imagine, it mostly involves kicking a ball and screaming while racing around madly.

28 Pounds

Yes, I did. I picked 28 pounds of tomatoes from my front yard garden.

Bernie snagged probably another pound for his salsa before I got to the scales.

This has been a great year for my tomatoes, with Shady Ladies and Early Girls vying for the prettiest production. However, the tomatoes in the silver bowl are on reserve -- no one who is ambivalent about the taste of tomatoes should eat them, because they are Bush Big Boy, and definitely the best-tasting tomato I've had since I was a kid, and Mom raised Big Boys.

I'm going to go eat one of them now.

P.S. Bernie and I froze five pounds of zucchini this morning, and seven pounds of sweet corn yesterday afternoon. That'll take the bite out of winter!

What?

Since people are not supposed to hang clothes outdoors, according to a city ordinance, I chose to hang some in my living room. 

Fortunately my living room has some large indoor plants -- they got so large I had the roof removed.

And anyone who knows me can tell you that my dog is an indoor dog, as you can tell by his shadowy figure on the rug.

I find that sitting in my comfortable chair in my living room, with my laptop in my lap and my laundry hung from the walls is a very soothing environment, absolutely wonderful for writing.

Artistic, yes? I love this idea of wall-hangings.

Morning Camp

When you camp out, one of the sweetest activities you have is to build a fire, in the evenings to light the night, in the morning to warm you up after you crawl out of your tent.

Kermit and I get up around five-thirty, mumble around doing what we have to do, and then hit the streets (and/or the river walk) by six, and creep in the northside gate around a quarter to seven or so. On select mornings, Bernie has a stack of kindling in the chiminea ready for ignition on the back patio, and my tea water on simmer at the back of the stove.

I must say that on mornings like today, when the temps are still in the 50s, that morning campfire feels mighty good. The sun comes up and adds to the thawing effect on our old bones, whispering to us that soon there will be no point in a fire, that if we are at all cool at 7am, we should count ourselves lucky.

Yes, I will. But I'm very lucky now, too, to sit and sip tea by the morning camp.

Awakened at 2 AM

We were awakened by John booming something about an accident on the street, sometime around 2 am. Bernie went to investigate; I blearily got up and took Kermit out, as puppies have to go when they're rallied from sleep, even if they don't usually get up until six. By the time I got out front, the truck that made those tire tracks in my neighbor's grass had been pushed back off our rosemary bush.

Apparently the driver had fallen asleep.

Right. In point of fact, he had been drinking, according to Bernie and John, who had conversed with the fool before the police arrived and arrested him for DUI. (I missed that drama as well. Thanks, Kermit.)

The wreck knocked down the fence; the truck got hung up in the rosemary bush -- a wild, unruly shrub that I've been itching to yank out for years. Glad I didn't, as it kept the truck from killing my tomatoes and baby shade trees behind it. A couple hours after I took this picture, we did indeed take out the rosemary -- the truck had snapped it off at the roots.

Amazingly, the simple construction of the fence allowed it to be pushed over before it broke, so Bernie was able to pull it upright and pound it back in with a mallet. It looks like it did before. Rustic, maybe, but pretty durable.

Can't say the same for the neighbor's car.

That driver sideswiped her car from tail-lights to headlights, and pushed it up onto the sidewalk. That crunching sound was what woke John up.

Did the driver actually fall asleep, or did he pass out? Judging from how long the destruction went on, I'd say the latter. Shame on him for driving when he was that drunk.

Kermit and Eperis - Dogs

Well, why not take some pictures of our dogs -- especially when they are actually behaving themselves instead of wrestling and crashing around the house? This day, they were tussling and roaring so loudly that we just opened up the back doors and let them take their rowdiness outside. And did they? No, they did not. They settled down on the pool deck and sunbathed quietly.

Kermit is proving to be a wonderful puppy. Based on some physical characteristics, and opinions of other Labrador retriever owners, we've revised his estimated age down a bit. He's only about eight months old.

However, our daily walks are getting much better. He doesn't drag me much at all, and I've become more confident about walking with him. We wake up before six in the morning, and then walk for about 40 minutes before breakfast.

His worst trait? He's still pining for the kids in the family that abandoned him. He sees or hears the kids at school up the street and he just goes into a frantic mood, trying to go to them and find his lost kids. I simply cannot walk him on the street where the school is, except on the weekends.

On Sunday mornings, Bernie and I have been taking Kermit with us when we go to 7am Mass. It's shady and cool where we park, and he can easily wait in the car. The early Mass is a quick one, no music or frills. After Mass, we take him to a dog park in Modesto where he can run loose and chase tennis balls or meet other dogs.

The big surprise is Eperis. Once Kermit entered the household, Ep stopped being a scooty little snotball, and has stepped up his game and become a responsible role model for the younger dog.

When they do get to chasing each other around the yard, Ep likes to evade Kermit by jumping into the pool. Kermit doesn't know how Eperis manages to run in the water yet, but I think in another month Ep will have lured him all the way in.

And of course, Eperis cannot be outdone in cuteness. He knows exactly how to get a belly rub.

There, I've blogged about two good dogs. They're a lot more fun to look at than James Franco.

Why My Teeth Fell Out After Seeing "Oz the Great and Powerful"

Now I know.

The ladies of this household all trooped off to SuperCuts and our favorite hair stylist, Anna, on Saturday afternoon. While Lil was having her massive mane sheared off, I happened to glance at the stack of magazines and saw this magazine with the cover artfully torn.

No, I didn't do it, but I'd like to shake the hand that did.

Big Dog

Kermit the Dog

10 months at most

Alotta cubic feet of canine