The Last Ratatouille

Pica harvested the last of the zucchini and eggplant the other day. The one green pepper she added to it turned out to be quite picanté.

Pomegranates and Winter Gardening

The pomegranate tree I planted earlier this year is still going strong. A few blossoms over the summer didn’t translate into fruit, but it’s still small. I drew these ones for my dear friend Joe who sent a card from Turkey. I associate pomegranates with Turkey… and with blue tiles.

I went to a short presentation on winter gardening yesterday. There are four things to remember: a) timing b) timing c) variety d) everything else.

Looks like I’m too late for brussels sprouts which need to be planted in August. When it’s over 100 degrees. When I’m still getting bushelfuls of tomatoes, peppers, basil, and squashes, and don’t happen to have a spare bed handy for winter crucifers. I don’t understand. It’s almost too late for all the other winter veggies. I’ve put in parsnips, lettuces, and turnips into the bed I just lined. Who knows what will happen? Carrots, beets, and radishes, and hope for the best?

Oh well. It is a good time to plant peas, now, and certainly to put in onions, garlic, and the rest. So I’ll focus on those.

Pastel Pencils

Our trip Sunday to Berkeley featured a visit to the art store, located conveniently three blocks from where we had lunch. My cousin Susan is a colored pencil artist, so there we gathered around that appropriate aisle in the store. Pica spotted these Stabilo CarbOthello pastel pencils, and started playing. With no shortage of encouragement from the rest of us, who all had their own temptations, she ended up walking out with a set of 48 of these.

Basically these are pastel chalks bound inside a wooden pencil. I have not done much of anything in pastels and these are very fun to try out. The concept of adding white to a drawing to raise the value is hitherto new to me.

Above is a drawing of one of the white eggplants that Pica has been growing in the garden out front.

Moss Graffiti

Offering new possibilities in organic letterforms. I had no idea one could make such a slurry.

Illustration Friday: Geeky

I finally got around to making my radio QSL card, prompted by the Illustration Friday theme of Geeky.

Not shown in great detail behind the antenna is the vegetable garden, now producing in great quantity, including the pink okra which I imagined doomed:

Varmints and Other Creatures

There’s something eating the okra plants, snapping it off at ground level, at the rate of about one a day. If it’s only jackrabbits, there’s an easy fix — make sure to fasten the gate shut every evening. If it’s ground squirrels, I’ll be reminded that it would have been worth it to line that bed with mesh. The okra is pretty: red stems, red buds, bright green leaves. At this rate we’ll be lucky to get a few pods before they disappear into the compost pile, wilted and miserable.

The bees continue to expand their premises in the hive on the nectarine tree. The edifice is ribbed and flowing, like the walls of a limestone cave. I wish I knew more about how they can put such a thing together… It’s certainly difficult to draw because the hive itself is white but the whole thing is brown, no contrast, pulsating with insects. They are feeding on the few flowers left on the alfalfa at the edges of the field, the plants that escaped mowing. My California fuchsia is starting to bloom bright red but I think that’s more interesting to hummingbirds than bees.

Bees And Bugs

Yesterday we discovered that a swarm of bees has settled on the nectarine tree in the front yard and has built a hive. When our landlord’s son the beekeeper learns of this it will be collected for sure but for now it is quite the edifice.

This morning Pica found these handsome bugs on the kale. She thought they might be eating the aphids but I was able to find a picture of one in the new Kaufman insect guide and no, they feed on cabbages and their relatives. The bug is a harlequin bug, Murgantia histrionica.

Artichoke Coda

I cut three at lunchtime for dinner — I’ve lost my fear of cutting the big beauty. I put them in the solar cooker with a little vinegar and by seven this evening they were scrumptious with vinaigrette and some wonderful levain bread Numenius found at the Village Bakery. (For a beautifully written review article on the French and their bread, see this article here.)

I once ate 12 artichokes at a sitting. That seems excessive, even to me. Would I do it again? Go ahead, dare me.

Artichoke Artist

Pica draws the artichoke for her series below.

Cynara: Historical Geography of an Artichoke

I sit and draw
the king of artichokes
I couldn’t eat
for pride—

consumed, now, by aphids
that are
herded by ants.
The mighty fall.

It can still maim, though:
the blood flows.
Flowed:
Al-Andalus,
honey and fruit and
artichokes
(and learning and
all that)—
fallen to greed
and stupid zeal, to
swine-eaters.

We don’t learn much.

I hear whispers
beyond the freeway and freights
of fountains, singing.
Past. Mint tea
and tiles and
lemon trees
that shaded
courtyards.

Gone.

The honeybees die
yet
without a thought
the artichoke

blooms.