Broccoli

Nothing heals the soul like chocolate … It’s God’s apology for broccoli.

Richard Paul Evans

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Nature abhors a vacuum…

Thankfully, it wasn’t long (two hours) before our vacuum was filled with this spectacularly studded sofa! Only eleven months in the making, but them’s the breaks when you order a custom, made in the USA, couch from Roger & Chris. It is called Howdy (in case you are both looking and patient), quite firm and equally comfortable, with, super bonus, leather not viciously subject to Juniper claws. I love it. We love it. It complements the room and has since acquired a nice wool blanket to prevent drool stains, Juniper’s not ours. Picking the battles.

Now is the time we dance…well, not really, but feel free. I was simply in need of a segue way to the food portion of our program.

I shared some rhubarb with our neighbor, Nancy, and she shared two slices of delicious custard pie made with it. I, in turn, made scones (dried blueberry and gouda & green onion) in order to avoid returning an empty plate. A marvelously tasty circle, dear reader.

We bought a couple of ridiculously sour grapefruits and decided they would be better served in margaritas. I substituted the lime juice in my recipe for 1.5 grapefruits – membranes, seeds, and pith removed, 1/2 cup tequila, 1/4 cup Grand Gala, 2 tablespoons agave nectar, and a generous pinch of salt, whirred in the Vitamix, before adding one 12 oz can of bubbly water, which just so happened to be pink grapefruit. So very good.

Finally, this is a tiny teaser for a future blog post. We went to New Mexico, mostly lazing about in a house overlooking the Pecos River. Anyhoo, if you’ve ever driven south on I-25 from Colorado Springs over the past decade, you’ve probably spied the white panel van on the side of the road advertising Ringo’s Grocery. My Grandma Esquipula Maes (1827-1905) is buried in Aguilar, so we first popped in for a hello at her grave before ambling to Ringo’s. It is a surprise of a market for such a small town, with a very nice deli and house made sausage. We bought a green chile and spicy Italian links. You’ll never guess which I used here, LOL. Since I had no hankering for pasta, I made a quickety-quick flatbread. Boy, was it tasty!

Teeny tiny wild rose: blossoms 1.5 inches across with crazy fragrant flowers. So cute!

iris

serviceberry

ladybug interlude

orange horned poppy after the rain

snowball

Teeny tiny mushroom – can you tell the rain has been abundant, as of late?

Juniper interlude

coral charm peony

sage

sculpit

evening primrose

ninebark

Oregon grape

pavement rose

callirhoe

Jupiter’s beard

orange horned poppy

bartzella peony

And that, my friends is everything currently blooming in the garden! Oh, wait, I just glanced out the window to marvel and realized I missed a purple penstemon. Picture it in your beautiful brain. I’m off…

Crabapple

We are born believing. A man bears beliefs as a tree bears apples.

Henry David Thoreau

crababpples, in this case…

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God spoke today in flowers,

and I, who was waiting on words,

almost missed the conversation.

Ingrid Goff-Maidoff

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Tulip

And she doesn’t have to worry about me, either. I don’t need to drink to get drunk. I can get drunk on things like the tulip—and this night.

Betty Smith

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