Earlier this week, I finally ripped out the last of our tomato plants, putting them out of their misery after they withstood weeks of hot humidity and several attacks by spider mites.  We’ve picked our pomegranates, cured our pumpkins, and entered into the dreaded end-of-summer heat, which combined with our limited watering has our garden looking pretty parched.

While my note taking started strong, with drawings and everything, somewhere between wedding number 11 and 29 my “precise” measurements were relegated to, “Arugula = LOTS,” and accurate weights for only some produce.  Our big winners for this season were of course the pomegranate tree, which bore over 60 pounds of fruit, our white pumpkin plant (lumina) which produced 5 pumpkins for a combined weight of over 45 pounds, and all our hot pepper plants, which we have more than we even know what to do with.  This season we also had great success with butternut squash, sweet banana peppers, and sweet basil (all of which are still going strong).  Plus we had mini eggplant for daaaays.  We had moderate success with tomatoes, specifically the moneymaker variety, and even greater success with one plant in particular that just sprouted in our backyard.  That vigilante produced one fruit that weighed almost three quarters of a pound!  Our least successful plants included our summer squashes, watermelon, and cucumbers.  Next year, I will direct sow all of those, and put them in a sunnier spot!  Hopefully that will help.

Other seasonal notes + memories:

• Our dog decided he wanted to help harvest tomatoes, carefully plucking them off the vine and leaving them all over the living room.
• We got four baby chicks!  They aren’t laying yet, but are about 5 months old, so they should start laying soon.
• Tyler put in a brick patio (sore subject, don’t ask him about it),
• And made me a gardening bench (awesome, you can ask him about that).
• We planted some carrots, which we thought the skunks completely devoured, only to find them buried in our raised bed.
• We have gotten to try tons of new recipes with our produce, like butternut gnocci, and make up our own versions of pasta sauce, pumpkin ravioli, drunken honey habanero barbecue sauce, and more.

So incredibly thankful for the opportunity to tend to and learn from the garden.  I think I was made for this.

Arugula, Sweet Banana Pepper, Yellow Summer Squash, Cherry Tomatoes, Mini Eggplant, Japanese Eggplant, Zucchini

I was never one for road trips growing up.  Having a weak stomach, long car rides were synonymous with nausea and listening to 94.7 KSSJ “smooth jazz” at the mercy of my dear mother, the driver.  Maybe it was my impatience, the Kenny G, occasional whiffs of cow manure up and down the I-5, or a combination of them all, but I was always anxious to get where we were going, wanting nothing to do with the in between.

Since then, I’ve come to appreciate road trips.  Not only for where we are going, but the in between.  Amid our given surroundings and company, there is always something beautiful to be discovered.  This is obvious in the spectacular and worth seeking out in the mundane.

At least that was true of our three thousand something mile trip from LA to Montana and back.  With a loose agenda in mind, ice chest full of snacks, two cameras, a dozen Freakonomics episodes, season one of Serial, and The Chronicles of Narnia on tape, Tyler and I traveled through Zion National Park and Grand Teton National Park up to Yellowstone.  Some highlights include hiking through The Narrows and up Angel’s Landing in Zion, sitting quietly by campfire in Montana, and seeing the craziest colors in the geothermal pools of Yellowstone.

Thinking back, though, some of the sweetest memories weren’t in destinations, but along the way: finding a sunny spot on high ground to eat lunch in the Virgin River, stumbling upon some bison at dusk in Grand Teton, chasing the sunset while it poured through Idaho, seeing a mama black bear and her two “cinnamon” cubs from a friendly enthusiast’s scope, and pioneering a moose jam in Yellowstone, just to name a few.

I wonder what I missed out on during those childhood car rides.

Then they set out from Mount Hor by the way of the Red Sea, to go around the land of Edom; and the people became impatient because of the journey.

Numbers 21:4

Tyler and I just returned from a trip through a few of the national parks to Yellowstone, making the most of this season of rest before he starts his intern year of residency.  Though out of sequence, I couldn’t help but post some frames from our stay in Pray, Montana.

This cozy guest cabin was hand-built with love by a dear woman named Lorna, whose simple and beautiful life captivated me.  About a 40 mile drive north of Yellowstone, Lorna lives surrounded by mountains in what is appropriately named Paradise Valley.  There, she raises sheep and chickens, grows her own food, and delivers the town’s mail among many other things.  She even grows her own hops and hopes to keep bees.

Some of my most treasured memories from our trip were with Lorna’s granddaughter, Nevaeh, as she cared for her month old calf, Midnight, and sitting by the fire with T to watch the sunset.  Neveah’s youthful joy on this farm reminded me that though we have much or though we have little, we are not in want of any good thing.  Maybe the sunsets in Montana are longer, or perhaps we simply recalled the value of uninterrupted company and the importance of savoring each moment.  I was reminded of how sweet it is to lie by green pastures, not fretting the future or the past, but resting deeply in the present.

Oh darling, let’s go down, down to the river to Pray.

Thank you, Airbnb for helping us find this slice of Paradise!

Over the holidays, when we were away during Tyler’s interviews, the cool weather and rain softened the soil, much to our delight.  Unfortunately, we also came home to a yard full of weeds.  In the battle against the weeds, I’d say we’re losing.  Pulling them up is a terrible task, but I’ve learned to embrace the discipline as part of breaking up fallow ground.

Upon the weeds, we made some peculiar discoveries.  Two tomato seedlings popped up under one of our trees, perhaps from the leftovers of a bird perched above or a hungry animal (our dog has an affinity for for green tomatoes).  I staked and pruned the seedlings and am excited to see what may come of it.

We also discovered that a plot of lettuce that I sowed seasons ago popped up.  At the time, it was honestly too dry and too hot for the lettuce to germinate and thrive.  After seeing nothing come of it months after I sowed the seeds, I figured the birds or ants had a feast, and I forgot about it.  Now they’re huge.  Below you will see the center of an oakleaf looseleaf that is over a foot and a half in diameter.  Enjoying them over the past couple weeks has been a sweet reminder to me to sow with diligence and not lose heart; things may come to fruition when we least expect them to, and what a joy that is.

In other news, one of our strawberry plants sent out a runner and planted a new plant in the container next to it, pink jasmine and citrus trees are in full blossom, and my nose is happy, minus the allergies.

Our yard has quickly become one of my favorite spaces at home.  I think our dog, Dusty, would also agree, evidenced by the fact that he’s truly living up to his name these days.

Also, true love: my husband built me a compost bin.

New favorite song these days.  Seriously check it out.

With diligence and love,

L

For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven and do not return there but water the earth, making it bring forth and sprout, giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater, so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth; it shall not return to me empty, but it shall accomplish that which I purpose, and shall succeed in the thing for which I sent it.

Isaiah 55:10-11

Set off at 5am to try and catch the sunrise. Totally worth it.