Living salad bar

I've been doing my best to buy Canadian, and must admit it isn't always easy. So many US products have filled our produce aisles, too many of us have forgotten how to grow our own. 

One of the best ways I've found of working around the many varieties of lettuce from California has been the discovery of 'living lettuces' that are grown here. Not only do they last longer in the fridge, because they already have a well-established root ball beneath the leaves, they're super-easy to plant! All you need to do, once you've used the leaves is ensure there's still about an inch or so of greenery above the roots and stick the whole thing into soil. The 'salad bar' above is the result of just such 'recycling' and pretty much ready for harvest (at which time I'll do the same procedure again). 

But apparently you don't even need to find the pre-rooted kinds of lettuce for this to work. Here's a video that demonstrates how to start lettuce using only water (as well as further videos on 're-using' green onions and more). I have to admit that when these little plants are starting out, they remind me a lot of one of my favourite film characters, Groot, from Guardians of the Galaxy. 

Happy growing, along with heathy and delicious eating!

Heartbreaking

The photo above is from 2014, the first time I visited Harbour Grace, NL. That's the town that served as the taking-off point for Amelia Earhart's solo flight across the Atlantic Ocean, and today, May 20th, is the anniversary of that flight, now 93 years ago. (If you click on the link for May 20th, you'll see two minutes of silent footage taken that day.)

I'm the one who tucked the tiny bouquet into her hand. It was just my little way of saying hello to her, as she is one of my personal heroines. I can't imagine what courage it took to fly across the Atlantic, and in a plane reliant on a single engine! No fallback there, only fall-into-the sea. 

I named this post "Heartbreaking" because earlier this spring, scoundrels (sounds like it was a pair of men) stole the statue, all seven feet of metal in her likeness. So far, "Amelia" hasn't been found. I, along with many others, continue to hope that the statue hasn't been melted down. 

The real Amelia was lost once, back in 1937. This time, it's truly a crime. 

A quiet art

When I was little, I used to love going into my gramma's workroom--at least that's how I thought of it. I have no idea what she called that room, but it was a magical place to me. It was where she made quilts. 

There was a frame she used to build them on, rolling the edges as she sewed--always by hand--the same way I liked to sew the doll clothes I made. Must have been something in our genes.

Yesterday I attended a quilters' exhibit, and as you might guess from the photo above, I wasn't the only one amazed by what I saw. If you click on the photo you might be able to tell that the images on the white background are bits of applique. It's an art that confounds me; I can't imagine needlework that could be more demanding. 

Reading the sign next to that quilt, the artist reveals it took her a year and a half to finish it. Not surprising, considering the demanding detail involved. And also not surprising, this was the quilt that won both main awards: the prize for best quilt as well as acknowledgment at being the people's choice. Hear, hear and bravo!

This woman, working on her own small piece of applique didn't mind my taking a photo of her at work. Inspiring, but not an art I feel capable of taking up.  

Bizzy

Or should that maybe, with that bee so hard at work, be 'buzzy' instead?

This rhododendron, which is probably 12 feet tall, has in the past always done me the honour of opening on Mother's Day. But this year, it decided to open early. 

I'm not complaining. It's always beautiful, but usually opens after the lilacs are spent. This year, both of them are gloriously in bloom, almost as if they're trying to compete with each other. 

In my mind, neither is 'winning'--I'm just grateful to have so much beauty outside the front door.