Zucchini Anyone?

It's beginning: the annual summer glut of veggies and fruit. Herewith are Early Girl, Banana paste, and Pineapple tomatoes; zucchini and sunburst squash; and the first of the Bartlett pears:


The peaches are done (and at my husband's behest I made another dozen jars of "unfancy" peach jam, adding only lemon juice and vanilla bean to brighten the flavor - so much for my fear that the peaches were too small to make jam) and the pears are just beginning.

In a week or so, those that haven't dropped to the ground will be at the perfect underripe stage to pick and set out on the kitchen counter. These Bartletts definitely ripen best off the tree: I no longer even have to touch them to gauge their readiness. When they reach a particular shade of chartreuse, and perfume the kitchen with a subtle pear-y note, I know it's time to bake an upside-down caramelized pear tart (from Patricia Wells' Bistro Cooking). That, as well as pear marmalade, pear butter, and any other pear preserve that strikes my fancy. The local hardware store kindly special-ordered eight dozen jars for me, and I guarantee they will all get used. After pears, there will be FIGS (Proof that Mother Nature saves the best for last).

Little Gardens Everywhere

Visitors bring out the tourist in me. What can I say? With two city kids in tow (my niece and nephew) just waiting to be impressed, I felt it incumbent upon me to show them something impressive. In this case, it was Muir Woods. Nothing like a stand of centuries-old redwoods to silence a couple of urban, easily underwhelmed, talkative kids.


The redwoods worked their magic to be sure, but so did the two-hour hike that on our (not very detailed) map appeared easy and short but in reality involved climbing what seemed to be HUNDREDS of steps up the "Lost Trail" and then curved along the rim hundreds of feet above the valley floor. All I could hear, after a while, was the sound of them panting. And sweating.

"How far do you think we've walked?" they asked in hollow and piteous voices after the first hour, stopping again to swig from their water bottles. "It must be MILES by now."

You'd think so. Back down at the paved trail where less hardy souls strolled in flip flops, seemingly oblivious to the staggering natural beauty all around them, we discovered from a look at the big trail map that in fact we had hiked all of 2.6 miles, although it felt more like 26.


We also visited the Ruth Bancroft cactus garden, which I remembered from my research for a regional magazine article I wrote this spring. In summer, the cacti are astonishing as their blooms open and the flower stalks swarm with bees and hummingbirds. My niece and nephew were suitably captivated.

No one wanted to touch these, but god were they gorgeous:

Having been off-line for a while, I offer a one-word explanation for the lengthy silence: Houseguests. Specifically, my sisters: one at a time, the youngest one with both her children. Enough said.

Have been picking peaches, peaches, and more peaches. My niece and nephew discovered their ripeness despite their being the size of runty apricots (the peaches, not my niece and nephew). I learned that one cannot have both children and fruit trees loaded with fruit in the same garden and expect the fruit not to end up in the children's mouths. Since their departure, I've picked HUNDREDS. No joke, as you can see:

Made two dozen jars of jam so far, and have hundreds still to eat, bake into tarts, donate to friends, and put up into more jams. The top row is peach jam with lavender honey, and the bottom row is peach and raspberry with cardamom. Both recipes are from Christine Ferber's jam-making bible, Mes Confitures.

The most spectacular of the oriental lilies are in bloom right now. These pink freckled ones with dinner plate-sized blooms are my husband's favorites.

My own preference is still for the roses, which are in the full flush of a second bloom cycle. These Summer Wine climbers are finally putting out longer canes, giving me hope that they will someday drape seductively and fragrantly over the back fence and trellis.

Since today seems to be all about all things luscious and pink, I can't resist showing my new cardigan; the modified bed jacket design from Knitting Lingerie Style by Joan McGowan-Michael. I didn't love her ruffle detail, so chose my own - lacier- version. As soon as it's dry and can be removed from the blocking board, I'll model.