Boomless

[rejectomorph]

Sourgrass that gets too much sunlight begins to look a bit disheveled this time of year, even when it is well watered. The leaf-bearing stalks droop, and some of the leaves turn brown, while the flower stalks tend to remain upright. The whole plant comes to look like a head of spiky green hair tipped with mauve. The shasta daisies are thriving, though. There is a clump of them at the corner of the yard, dense with white blossoms, some on stalks three feet high. I remember a long row of them that lined the backyard fence at our house in the hills. I was about seven or eight when I found that the petals were edible and were sometimes added to salads. After that, there was a period when I could shock the other neighborhood kids by plucking the flowers and eating them. That was fun.

Rose petals are edible, too, of course, and I've been eyeing the hedge of pink roses across the street. They do look tasty, piled up like great mounds of strawberry whipped cream- well, that's how they look from this distance, anyway. Up close they're just flowers. I probably won't go raid the bushes, though. I'll leave them for the deer, who don't have refrigerators or Safeway Club Cards. But I would enjoy a bit of Rose Petal ice cream from that place on Raymond Avenue in Pasadena about now (it it's still there.) That was always a nice snack on a hot day.

And a very hot day it is, with no end of hot days in sight. Here, we don't even get the compensation of blowing things up tonight, fireworks being illegal in this highly flammable place. In a while, I'll be able to listen to the distant thumps of shells being set off at the big fireworks shows in Chico and Oroville, but I will see nothing, and locally there will be perhaps no more than a few bangs and whistles from the yards of patriotic lawbreakers. But, if so, maybe the fire engines will come. I could watch fireworks on television, of course, but it just isn't the same as being up close and seeing somebody's fingers blown off. How can we celebrate a revolution without at least a little bit of blood being shed?

Comments

[annina-writes.livejournal.com]

Sourgrass! When I was a kid I loved the stuff and would eat handfulls of the tangy stuff. Much later when studying cuisine, I found out that it was a delicacy in (where else?) France, where it was made into a creamed soup. I tried it and it was wonderful...light and delicate, sort of like cream of spinach soup, but lemony.

Chris and I once had company for dinner and made a wonderful flower arrangement in the middle of the table. We then took it apart, broke apart the flower petals and the dandelion greens and nasturtium leaves, used some marigolds to grind into the dressing, and gave them a flower salad. They thought we were nuts until they tried it. Yum!

When I lived with three Chico State coeds on Nord Avenue, there was an enormous patch of wild "miner's lettuce" growing behind our apartment. I would run outside, pick a pile and wash it, then eat it like a spinach salad with a sweet and sour dressing and crumbled eggs. They, of course, were convinced that I was quite mad. It really is a delightful green.

but it just isn't the same as being up close and seeing somebody's fingers blown off. LOL!!

Have I ever asked you what you do for a living? I think I'll use my nosy icon as it's July 5th here in Central time. You're looking at the nose of 13 year old Diamond the Ditz Dog, who is a pomeroodle. We won't go into how her shameless poodle mother dug a hole under the fence... ;-)

Hope you had a happy and relatively cool Fourth.

[rejectomorph]

Right now, I don't do anything other than look after the aged parents, who are 95 and (almost) 90. The job has no future, of course (heh- black humor), and I have no idea what I'll do once it ends.

[annina-writes.livejournal.com]

Ah...well, that's an extremely noble calling. My mom was caregiver for my paralyzed dad the last five years of his life, and believe me, it was hard on both of them. She definitely earned her halo.

Hugs, my friend.