It's astonishing, what you can find in the winter garden.
When all is sparse and dry, there are still garden treasures to be found.
Inspiration for art and palette.
And wandering mind it seems, as this post curiously unravels.
The strawberry leaves turn crimson & have my full attention.
I take a few and find myself brushing up against arugula flowers.
A scent so peppery and buttery all at once.
Such a flavor.
I can't help but eat a few leaves.
I love that it has jumped outside the vegetable garden and grows in hearty patches everywhere.
I collect some of my favorite winter garden finds.
The lacy dried out casings of tomatillos.
Intricate & paper thin.
Don't mind me as I give the rosemary a pinch as I walk by.
I have made ever so many rosemary roasted potatoes with chicken in the oven this winter.
I decide to collect a bundle of garden loot, see what I can come up with.
I make a pouch out of my shirt and fill it.
Dry bits of black eyed susans amuse me.
As do coreopsis tufts and golden nettle berries.
I can't help but get distracted by the Brussels sprouts, which are ready for picking.
I love them thrown in a hot pan with a little olive oil, sauteed with garlic, craisins and slivered almonds.
Then doused with balsamic and allowed to sautee with the lid on.
Yumm.
I adore how they grow up a giant stalk.
I pick off all the big leaves so I can see them better.
We will most certainly be having Brussels sprouts tomorrow.
Hooooray!
I skedaddle on with my loot in my shirt, admiring sweet alyssum peeking through rock paths.
And I nearly gasp at the perfectly witchy look of the gypsy garden.
Where a teeny tiny 49 cent pot of variegated ivy I planted has exploded over the years.
Trickling out of its space and over to the gypsy wagon.
It's one of those things that only happens when you don't try.
If I had wanted it to do that, it wouldn't have.
I'm happy.
Crazy little ivy.
I turn out my shirt onto the old wooden table.
I even found a piece of teal glass.
I guess in the winter of the high desert, there is still color after-all?
Imagine that?
It's like anything in life isn't it?
No matter how empty or desolate something seems…
If you really open your eyes and look…
You may see more things than you could have ever imagined.
I love hunting about when the garden is empty and winter sleeping.
So many little things to notice before all the pretty guys turn up.
It's kind of like not judging a book by its cover.
Or judging people by the way they look.
I worked at an angel gallery once, where I also sold my angel paintings.
(I painted angels once upon a time)
You would meet all matter of curious & wonderfully interesting people there.
My parents were terrified.
But I was fascinated.
It was a wonderful experience for a 19 year old.
There was the couple who wore no shoes and white robes, so kind.
There was the scary guy who told us every chance he got that he was just out of jail – he was wild eyed and looked like he could snap at any second. We showed him human kindness, and he always came back for more.
(he prefaced every sentence with, I just got out of jail, so it became funny after a year)
We always offered him food treats right away, because that seemed to please him.
So many other endless lovely people.
There was a cafe' next door where more stories and characters evolved after the gallery closed.
There was the French Canadian Richard Gere looking guy with the black hat.
He was about 15-18 years older than me.
He couldn't speak any English.
So, I practiced my French on him, and somehow we ended up in front of a roaring fire, laughing and listening to Pavarotti and U2 in concert. He had the cassette tape tucked inside his black leather motorcycle jacket.
I was such a hopeless romantic.
(Am.)
However, when he wanted to take me back home with him a few weeks later, to live in a chalet in the woods of Quebec and have lots of babies, I got in my rabbit convertible and bolted away.
And that was that, one of many romances I dare confess.
(so glad I had them, fun memories abound)
I was still in college after-all.
Not ready for any of that.
Was fun while it lasted.
He was so sad.
Sorry French man.
So sorry.
And yet, and yet and yet……
I veer.
I veer so well don't I?
We were talking about angels and nature collecting…
And I ended up with heart shaped pupils and Pavarotti.
But it was winter.
And it was cold.
So, that's what the stories have in common I suppose?
Oh gooodness me.
Should I really post this fiasco of a tale, haha!?
I suppose it would only be apropos to leave you with "the" song below…
And beg you to tell me one of your tales.
Something from the past.
Or the present.
I know you have tales.
A good and juicy tale.
Come on, won'tcha?
Don't let me stand here telling you my secrets alone 😉
xoxo
Love, V
🖤 🖤 🖤
ps: As I typed I remembered…
I still have the cassette he gave me, with Pavarotti and U2, that night…
All those years ago.
Oh my, haha!
🖤
Vanessa!!! I love your garden, and the fact that you are already seeing signs of spring there! Love the green and all the new life beginning to bud!! And I love that you enjoy and are passionate about music, and Paverotti was beyond wonderful!! I wonder if you’ve ever listened to Il Volo? They are just kids and don’t actually do opera, well, except one of the boys is leaning that way, but they are spettacolore!! Please give them a listen, they are all over the internet!! Enjoy your weekend, we are very excited here for the Super Bowl! Be blessed! <3
This was so very interesting and most romantic.
I too have some very interesting memories…would you truly want me to share something? Once upon a time when I was playing in the pit orchestra for an Opera…it was between shows…
should I continue? 😉
Oh yes, my mother adoooooooores them!!! She plays them constantly and
loves them so. Just lovely!
But of course!!!! Goooo onnnn……
please….
Wonderful story. I love the photos. The yellow flowers are blooming here. And I have everything planted except the tomatoes.
I love garden loot!! And you could make the most “insignificant” item be significant with your writing and your way of seeing!!
Gorgeous post and I adore brussel sprouts as well. i love your beautiful artistic eye. I am 61 years young today, but I’ve had my share of romantic adventures. At 54, I took up surfing in Hawaii. The same year I sold all my belongings and moved to Costa Rica to surf the longest left break in the world. In the meantime, I helped my surferdude boyfriend build a pole cabin in the rain forest that looked out over the Pacific ocean. I rescued a baby squirrel monkey that I later released back to the jungle. I married the surfer dude in a flower filled garden in Honolulu, Hawaii. It was beautiful and romantic , but surfer dudes do not make good husbands and free spirits with wanderlust do not make good wives. Sooooo, I’m back in the States contemplating a new cottage garden for the spring (My one True Love..gardening. )Never, ever believe you are too old for adventure, a chance, a risk, or love.
A good and juicy tale, hmm? All of my stories would be too long, I fear. (And the *really* fun ones aren’t exactly right for this space, anyway…)
: D
Here, however, is a short, funny tale: When I initially looked at the first picture of this post, I could not for the life of me make out what the light brown objects were. All I could think was, “Are those powdered doughnuts? Why would she have powdered doughnuts mixed in with her garden findings?” I knew that couldn’t be right (probably – you never know with Miss Vanessa), but darned if I could make them out, so I kept reading. Forthwith, you identified them as tomatillo casings, and I burst out laughing – *of course* that’s what they were!!
: )
Thank you for the smile, and for the lovely post. You are so right that there is always something wonderful to be seen, if only we look. And thank you, too, for the music – Pavarotti’s voice is indescribably powerful, and I sat and listened while watching the snow fall outside my picture window, it was so very peaceful and moving.
Hope you are in the midst of enjoying a splendid day! (And if I think of a good and juicy tale that’s comments-section-appropriate, I’ll come back and tell it!) ; )
when I was 15 I fell in love with a logger 9 years older than me. His eyes were like deep pools of brightest blue while his hair was thick wavy and the softest shade of blonde. I can still see him in my minds eye as he laughed with joyful abandon. He built me a two story house in the woods by a stream with plenty of property for our horses and three sheep dogs. How sad, I grew up and moved on, leaving my logger behind, but I had a dream about him less than a month ago and it made me wonder if he was well. Childhood can be so romantic and enchanting, don’t you think? Do you ever wonder what happened to your French man? Of course you don’t and why would you when you have the handsome debonair Mister Lovee to fulfill all your whimsical dreams. And who could resist his curly head of hair.
Your garden is so lovely in winter, Vanessa! Thank you for sharing such beauty from your world.
Much love to you…from me!
Lucky you, what a harvest – my garden is still sleeping here. And aren’t we all sometimes hopeless romantic!
Thank you for this lovely post and all my best from an Austrian gardener
Elisabeth
lOve the pictures. Love that you have so much growing.
Funny where memories will take us sometimes, to something we thought we forgot 🙂
Hi Vanessa..
I’m new to your blog..Your gatherings are beautiful. Its raining here in the White Mountains… I love your work..You seem so free in your art and like you know exactly where you’re going….and that’s where ever your heart leads you.. I find your blog and your creations to be like a burst of fresh air! and the tale.. it was perfect. I’ve been trying to think of one but can’t really think of a man.. In my younger years, I was in love with horses.. where I grew up, I would ride my horse in the moonlight … while it was snowing. It was sooo beautiful and peaceful..and I would ride without a saddle so my horse would keep me warm. When I whistled for my sweet girl… she would come running. I guess she loved me too.. Just a different kind of romance I guess .. I hope that’s ok! I look so forward to reading more of your wonderful words and seeing more of your genuine-ness.. 🙂 I love your gypsy style… Thanks so much for sharing and have a great weekend..
Tamara
hmmmm. I have just such a cassette and a memory of jazz saxophone player who put it together for me “Our love is here to stay” at the end and the beginning.A fond memory of a sweet romance that drifted off into the desert.I remember dancing in the moonlight under the stars thinking this…this is romance….and it was.
Vanessa,
Love your daily gatherings from the garden, so pretty and probably something most people would just go right by without noticing. I think you have a special eye for beauty, It must be the Artist side of you, Yes? I think it’s so wonderful when you share little snippets of your life, be it past or present, we go away feeling like we know you. That’s the real beauty of this whole blogging thing, isn’t it? Its like we have all these really good friends that we never even met in person, hehe! I just love that! Have a blessed weekend
dear friend!
Teresa
sugar, spice and whatever’s nice
First off, you are making my mouth water talking about the Brussel sprouts and sauteing them with craisins and garlic, and slivered almonds, in olive oil with the balsamic vinegar…it sounds scrumptious!
Your lovely ‘finds’ from your acreage reminds me of going to a flea market when you don’t quite know what one is going to find, but being surprised and delighted!
I love U2’s music. They have that sound which takes you away into romantic thoughts…maybe it was the music that put a spell on you with the French guy, along with Pavarotti…I’m glad you hopped into your rabbit convertible and escaped.
Hope all is well with you.
love and hugs,
Miss Teresa
Oh my dear, you do veer beautifully. Fortunately it’s one of my favorite languages and I adore both hearing it and speaking it. 😉 I was just admiring the lacy tomatillo globes in my own garden, surprised at how they can withstand the rain and maintain their shape. And brussel sprouts, I am so envious. I am an avid gardener but successful, nonbuggy brussel sprouts is something that has alluded me. Maybe I’ll give it another try this year. It’s one of my favorite veggies. Not sure if I can think of any romantic stories that would work for this space. Hmmmm….. one of my most romantic flirtations was completely a romance of the mind. We competed for top our class over several semesters, and in several different classes. We spent some time together as friends introducing each other to favorite interests that were completely foreign to each other. It was clear to both of us that we had completely different lives and were moving towards completely different goals, so we never complicated the chemistry between us with even a single kiss. But it was definitely romantic.
eluded, not alluded. Sorry, I couldn’t stand having used the wrong word.
Yeah – go on!
Oh Vanessa, how I am longing to again discover the garden. Just a few more months before planting. Seems like only yesterday we picked the brussels sprouts. And how wonderful yours look. Big huge sigh here for all the loveliness, romance, sweetness and beauty in your words and photos.
I am so happy that you shared your little tale about the French boy. I had a French lover. We would lay naked on my quilt in the living room and feed each other chocolate chip cookies, while he whispered things in his beautiful language. I still have the mix tapes that he and a few others have given me throughout the years. It’s fun to listen to them.
Vanessa,… what Tamara said…that horse ride in the snow and moonlight… might be inspiration for a piece of art! I can see it.
Hiding my eyes now, in case y’all talked Indigo into telling the rest…of …you know…
Thanks for your answer, Vanessa! I have left most of my “romantic memories” behind, they are much too complicated to ever tell anyone but my own heart. I think perhaps that things like that are why I love the gorgeous romantic classically infused music of “The Boys” as a lot of my lady friends call Il Volo. They make us feel like young girls again, and we can dream of being girls once more, and it’s safe… Going off on a crazy adventure is not a wise choice when you’re married already and in your 6th decade of life.. unless it is with your dear hubby and you go off to somewhere that would qualify as dreamy… maybe the south of France (Or where ever that village in “The Hundred Foot Journey” was, I forget right now) or perhaps Venice or Abruzzo in Italy.. Ah, one is never too old to dream…. Buonasera, Cara Mia! Buonasera! Speriamo che il vostro è spettacolare!
Ohhhhh, you are wonderful!!! Just wonderful dear Sharleen!!
xoxo
A guy in Texas. A confirmed bachelor of 38 to my twenty something….We first came to know of each other through our work, via the telephone. And his colleague and room mate came to Florida for a conference we were holding and delivered unto me the first of what would become a postcard romance. Literally. And he went back home and said, you’ve GOT to meet her. So we spent a year writing each other stories only the length that would fit on the back of the post card. We agreed to meet. I flew to Texas. We spent Thanksgiving together, in front of a roaring fireplace (!) with his grandmother’s china and fresh baked bread and coffee and fresh veggies from the market (we were both vegetarians back in the day)…listening to Vivaldi. *siggghhhhh*** He smelled like juniper berries and had been in the peace corp and asked me to marry him before I flew home. But I didn’t. He was kinda….intense. I mean romantic intense – like EVERYTHING was ALWAYS OVER THE TOP AMAZING. and sometimes, I am just a shlep in my jammies all day hair may or may not get brushed dishes in sink til end of the day eating peanut butter and jelly kinda girl, y’know?
Oh, the memories brought back to me Vanessa. You amaze me, often, with your stories shared ….often with a song involved! This song brings me way back to that girl, too. Thanks for the smile you brought to my face, today. Now, I have loaded it on my IPod …to blast each morning for my hour commute to go nurse our Vets, including many who served that theater of war.
Have a beautiful day….to the girl and to the woman.
My best to you!
This post made me giggle! Loved hearing of all those characters, and your Frenchman, of course. Oh my my, and ooh la la! I wonder if you ever think of him when ML does his silly French accents?! Heehee! I was a little wild in my teens and 20s, but I don’t really don’t know if I have anything that unusually juicy or exciting to share, as I haven’t had exhilarating, fascinating, whirlwind, romance-novel kind of exchanges with worldly men (!), but I loved reading a little of your “escapades”!! And I always loooove when you ramble and veer! Part of the charm that is you. 🙂 And your winter garden treasures are gorgeous. Love the lacy tomatillo casings. Nature is amazing.