Mid-June Garden is Messy. But Good

These cabbage plants were started from seed in the solarium months ago. I wish I had a photo of when they were transplanted because they looked sick, sad and saggy and I feared for their survival. After a month of clinging to life, I gave them a good shot of organic fertilizer, the sun decided to help out, and now they're prize specimens, despite the weeds nipping at their heels. We already have enough homemade sauerkraut to create gas for the entire neighborhood, so we'll likely eat these in salads and soups. They'll stay crisp and pretty in the garage refrigerator for a few months. In the background, peppers cry out for sun and heat, which we haven't had much of for several days.  

This is a mess of perennials. The yellow flowers were planted at least 25 years ago. The lilies, just emerging, are more recent, maybe 10 years. So much of what's out there has its own life, its own mind, its own mess. Especially the pernicious weeds, which are currently overcome by the perennials. Despite the appearance that the flowers are victorious over the weeds, I spend several hours a year beating back the invaders. 

Oh the joy! The first zukes create a big culinary

hot flash, but it's over quickly—as soon as 

production outpaces pent-up demand. This 

happens quickly.

We planted five or six onions varieties, some sweets to eat right away

and keepers that will last until next spring. Garlic is in the background.

Blueberries planted five years ago are coming on strong. The
challenge is keeping them picked before the birds swoop in. 

The first raspberries of 2013. Goldens are super sweet, the best!

Lowly chard protected from evil finches with wire fencing AND wire mesh. We've left the poor beets uncovered, and they're being ravaged by those little bastards. Early chard is a miracle of tender sweetness and super productivity. This small patch can be harvested every other day!

 We eat it all in salads, stir fries and smoothies. Yes, smoothies. 

The peas have passed their peak and I noticed some yellowing leaves today as I was picking. (I also noticed slugs. See below) We planted too many peas. I quit freezing them because they just don't taste that good. But residents and caregivers at my mom's assisted living place love em fresh from the garden. The ability to give produce away is part of the fun of gardening. Did I say "fun"? Hmmm. Not quite. Let's say pleasure, satisfaction, gratification. What is fun? Dancing.

I rustled these juicy slugs from beneath the peas after today's rain 

flushed them out of hiding. They're about to die. No salt. 

Garden shears do the deed quickly. 

Every plant in this photo is a volunteer or a perennial. The birds "plant" sunflowers all around, perhaps in thanks for all the sunflower seeds they devour in their fall frenzy. 

A lot more labor intensive than the flower bed is the main garden: peppers, onions, peas, beans, tomatoes, eggplants, zucchinis, winter squash, melons, potatoes, cabbage, kale, chard, cucumbers. Weeds.

My second favorite volunteer after sunflowers—cosmos. I give them

 an assist by relocating them into clusters. 

We're having a cool wet spell, which is fine for the garden. When summer returns it will explode with growth, and ripe tomatoes will soon appear. I can't wait for the first Caprese salad. The basil and tomatoes are going to quiver with juiciness and joy, ecstatic when the sun comes back. Me too, as on my way to harvest tomatoes and basil, the lilies and poppies will shimmer with light and we will all smile in our own way.

Travel - Sometimes Sweetness and Light. Other times, NOT.

This post was composed over a few days, in and out of Internet service. As I complete it, we're camped at Cottonwood Canyon Campground in the Theodore Roosevelt National Park in North Dakota.  Yesterday we left Yellowstone National Park after a quick visit and an exit via what has to be among the most spectacular drives in the world, the Beartooth Highway. 

One of way too many OMG views from the Beartooth Highway.

Cell service at our campground is 3G, so with my iPhone's Hotspot, I'm able to plug into the Internet. Hopefully the post will be done before power runs out or I get too cold sitting outside. Our campsite along the Little Missouri River lacks electrical or other services. And now on to Yellowstone highlights along with some musings about our privileged travel life.

The awesome power of Yellowstone Falls cannot be overstated. 

Lest anyone think that traveling for prolonged periods means unmitigated joy,   trust me, it's not always so.

Sometimes I feel like I'm giving the wrong impression. True. We are privileged and grateful to see and experience some of the greatest natural and cultural wonders of the USA and sometimes other countries. We're often stimulated, awe stricken, flabbergasted, wonder-besotted. But sometimes, between incredible places, we.....get homesick. Get tired of our close quarters Need our own spaces. Bicker. What I'm trying to convey.....life on the road is not perfect. Close, but not quite.

The Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone below the great falls. Just wonderful. I lost my sunglasses here, leaning over a barrier to take photos.

Springtime in Yellowstone. Buffalo and bears are on the move with young. The meadows are verdant. The skies are dramatic. The USA's first national park never disappoints. 

Here's another thing. We don't always stay in our camper, in case you got the mistaken impression we're hardcore.  If we have family or friends along the way, and we're invited, we gladly accept. Also, we've learned that if it's raining, snowing or otherwise stupid to hunker outside, we'll get a motel. Temperatures 20 degrees or less also drive us to places with hot showers and wide-screen TVs. We're old, but we're not stupid.

Leaving Yellowstone Park via the Lamar Valley, where numerous photo workshops were being conducted. A workshop was here, searching in vain, with cannon-sized lenses, for an osprey nest. Lacking a cannon-sized lens, I opted for wildflowers with the Lamar Valley in the background.

During numerous trips to Yellowstone, I'd never before hiked the boardwalks at Mammoth Hot Springs. Wow. Just unbelievable. 

Travertine deposits making magic at Mammoth Hot Springs.

We left Yellowstone National Park after a quick two days, one night. It was fabulous, of course.  We camped at Mammoth Hot Springs. Oddly, heavy traffic roared around the campground until well after 10 p.m. and resumed when I was jarred awake at 5 a.m. But you don't visit Yellowstone to camp. You camp in Yellowstone so you can be close to all those amazing natural wonders.

A few of the neon colors at Norris Geyser Basin created by heat-loving algae

Last night PK and I were holed up in a hotel in Billings, Montana, adjacent to a medical clinic treating cancer and other patients. How we arrived at this hotel is another story having to do with my TripAdvisor ineptitude. The clientele was mostly patients on medical journeys, and their families, not recreational travelers like us While we're in our modest room planning where to camp tomorrow and deliberating whether our butts can tolerate another bike ride, the people on either side may be in dread about medical tests, test results, or treatments.

This juxtaposition puts me in the crux of travel ambivalence. We're skimming on the top of life right now, as I see it. But one day, it could be me or PK awaiting test results or unpleasant treatments or a terminal diagnosis.  So before we're the patients and no longer the skimmers at the apex of the life-is-good chain, we're going for it.

That's me, in a photo taken by PK, proving I was on the trip, with Yellowstone Falls behind. This is one of my favorite places in the world.

FYI - I'm pushing the "publish" button at 9:28 p.m. under a full North Dakota moon and with light-seeking insects crawling on the screen with my iPhone providing wifi.  I love it. I'm also getting cold! Time to crawl into the Four Wheel Camper.