A Garden of Gratitude by Barbara Quinn

Perennial flowers are the backbone of my garden. Outside my window, the Black-eyed Susan’s wave in the breeze. Beside them sit clumps of golden Day Lilies that bloom for months without any care. The Sedum is starting to blossom and change color. In fall it will become a deep red. My Mums are already in full flower, their wine and orange colored blossoms bright in the August sun. The purple and white Asters will be in the next round of flowering plants. I love watching the perennials cycle through the growing season. In spring there are a few Crocuses that the deer leave behind. The deer eat all the Tulips, and most of the Daffodils too, so I’ve let them disappear from the garden. Summer and fall are when the perennials are most abundant. In dead of winter there’s Holly with its red berries.

If a perennial survives a wintering over, it’s meant to be a part of my landscape. I prefer to find plants that belong in my soil, plants that stay here, like me, and soak in the same sun, air, and water that I do year after year. We’re fellow travelers, baking in August, hunkering down in the winter. Plus, it’s a lot easier to tend perennials. Plant them once and you’re set. Don’t get me wrong. Annuals are pretty, and I love seeing them in my neighbors’ yards. How can you not be drawn to the bright colors of the Hibiscus, Impatiens, or Begonias? But it’s my old friends the perennials for me.

When I walk to my mailbox I pass purple Spiderwort that I transplanted here from my last home almost ten years ago. Every summer and fall when it blooms I remember the large patch of Spiderwort at my previous house. It’s not a very popular plant, but I like its ambling disarray of leaves and small flowers. It crops up every year and shouts look at me. And I am happy to oblige. There are Hostas too, with their long green leaves and purple flowers on long stalks. And blue Hydrangeas that droop heavily from their bushes. I’m grateful to perennials for coloring my landscape and keeping me company year after year.

The Weather by Patresa Hartman

My grandmother used to keep a calendar recording nothing but the weather -- the high temp, the low temp, precipitation or no precipitation. She tracked the growth patterns of cabbage and beans in the vegetable garden, the tiger lilies around the side of the house, and the arrival and departure of hummingbirds at the sugar water. She would not have called this research; she would have called it paying attention.

To understand the tidal forces of one's environment I think suggests intimacy -- a deep understanding of and appreciation for the way we fit into Things. Appreciation for the many ways we are alive and connected. The key word here is appreciation. In fact, I think my grandmother's weather calendar is a great example of gratitude via attention. What if the first step toward gratitude is simply taking note? It is easy to notice the crummy and crumbling; but how many lovely things do we sidestep, overstep, or under-notice on a daily basis, because we are moving too quickly and living too loudly?

I've been trying to notice more, periodically reminding myself to pause and take inventory -- the vibrant red of my chair, the perfect oval smudge on the picture window, the scent of my neighbor's freshly mowed lawn. I don't want to miss the lilac in bloom in the front yard or the trill of my cat's purr. I would hate to wake one morning unable to recall the taste of heirloom tomatoes from the farmer's market, because I ate them too quickly to savor.

It's taking practice. Who knew that our senses needed such explicit direction? The world ends daily on the front page of my newspaper, and my inner curmudgeon gets stuck on whine. I don't want to live obliviously, but I also don't want to dismiss the good stuff that is aplenty. I wish to be more like my grandmother, tracking the birds and predicting the cabbage haul. I want to take better interest in weather.

Today: 85 degrees and sunny.

Gratitude for Zucchini Madness by Barbara Quinn

I enjoy going out in the early morning and harvesting my herbs, zucchini, and zucchini flowers. The bright yellow zucchini blossoms definitely are happy, their faces turned up to the sun. This is the time of year when they go into insane production phase so it’s good to have lots of recipes for them.

While I enjoy cooking, I’m a fan of simple, healthy dishes. Here’s a dish that is tasty and doesn’t require you to spend a lot of time over a hot stove. Plus it uses bunches of zucchini. And I am grateful for that.

Zucchini Bisque

2 Tblsp. Olive Oil
1 Medium Onion
1 Cup chopped carrots
4 Cups chopped zucchini
2 Cups Lo-Sodium chicken broth
¼ tsp. sugar
¼ tsp. marjoram
Two or three sprigs of fresh thyme, stripped (or ½ tsp dried)
Two or three sprigs of fresh tarragon stripped (or 1 tsp. dried)
Sea salt
White pepper
½ cup Skim Plus milk

Chop vegetables. Heat olive oil over medium heat and add carrots, zucchini and onion. Cook until onions wilt. Stir in chicken broth, herbs, sugar, white pepper, and salt. Simmer for about 15 minutes. Puree in small batches in a blender. Pour back in pot and add the milk. Adjust seasoning to taste. (e.g., more tarragon or salt). Reheat and serve.

Zucchini Days by Barbara Quinn

I don’t plant much in my garden anymore. I have lots of herbs, and a few zucchini plants. And boy do those four zucchini plants take up room and produce like mad. I grow them mostly for the flowers. I can find good tomatoes and other veggies in my local farm market, but those zucchini flowers are elusive and very expensive if you do find them. Each morning I go out and harvest a bunch.

So what do I do with all those flowers? They are good to add to salads, and to zucchini bisque with fresh tarragon, and also to zucchini fritters which make a great accompaniment to grilled fish or meats. A major treat is fried or stuffed zucchini blossoms. Italians fry the blossoms in a simple thin water and flour batter called pastella which is similar to tempura batter. You sprinkle them with salt and enjoy. Tonight I’m going to stuff half the blossoms with mushroom, breadcrumb, pine nuts, and raisins. I’ll stuff the rest with leftover polenta mixed with a little parmesan. Then I’ll bake them in my toaster oven. What a terrific time of year.

Here’s a recipe for fried zucchini flowers:

2/3 Cup of water
1 Cup flour
Pan with one inch of Canola oil
A dozen or so zucchini blossoms.

Place water in a bowl. Sift the flour into the water and use a whisk to incorporate till mixture is a thin paste. You can experiment with consistency. Wash the blossoms and dry on paper towels. Cut open one side and remove the inside pistil. Leave them whole if possible. If too large cut into two pieces. Heat the oil on high heat. Dip the flowers into the batter and drain a bit, then put into the oil. Brown on one side, then flip to the other. Remove to paper towels and drain. Sprinkle with salt. Serve hot. If done right, they should be crunchy good!

Ode to a Deck by Barbara Quinn

This time of year I appreciate my deck. When we were figuring out how to site this house, one of the first things my husband did was find out the exposure. He studied the plans, and told the builder to place the deck on the east side of the house. We worked from there. We’d had decks that faced west and he wanted to avoid that setting sun hitting us. So now the front of the house gets the afternoon sun while the back, where our deck is, receives the shade. It’s wonderful to be able to sit out there and read, and at this time of year I look forward to having dinner on the deck. We barbecue. I pick some fresh herbs from my garden. And I light some candles to keep the biting bugs away. Then we relax, talk, drink wine with our meal, and let the evening settle over us. Because we are surrounded by tall pines and other trees we’re completely private. The quiet is a great escape from the hubbub of life. Off to the north there are lovely mountains. They’re not a dramatic soaring range of mountains. Rather they are gentle hills, worn by time. But they do have their charms. And to the rear, behind the deck, are woods that are a refuge for many critters.

We receive visits from many animals while we sit out on the deck. There are cotton-tailed bunnies, chipmunks, and woodchucks. The deer tend to stay away till we go inside, then they are back munching on whatever they can find. I’ve learned to forget about planting things like tulips which are fodder for the deer buffet. Occasionally a gorgeous red fox comes and sits on the hill. Wild turkeys parade through. I’ve seen a couple of possum at night. And overhead hawks soar while hummingbirds hover in the garden.

No matter how long or hard the day, I know at night I can go out on the deck and enjoy a mini-vacation.