And I couldn't be more excited.
I suppose this is a honeymoon of sorts, since our first one was short (three nights) and planned at the absolute last minute (much like the rest of the wedding). We have been trying to go to Italy for five years, but with two babies and a new house and one (well, maybe 1.25) income, we never have the money or time. So we have decided to go to Napa instead.
I checked out a dozen or so books from the library, and I have been poring over the pages of each book for three weeks now. We have narrowed it down to about a dozen vineyards--our short list. We will probably have to cut some more because I don't want to feel rushed on this trip.
The short list:
Schramsburg
Sterling
Spring Mountain Vineyard
Prager Winery & Port Works
V. Sattui Winery
Peju Vineyards
Swanson
Napa Wine Company (tasting room)
Domaine Chandon
Mayacamas
And in Dry Creek Valley:
Ferrari-Carrano
Bella Vineyards
Lee has a thing for Alexander Valley cabernets, so we want to spend some time up there. I haven't really looked into the wineries there at all. I don't know when we will have time. It will probably be the same day we go to Dry Creek Valley, so it may be just a drive through the valley with a stop at a tasting room.
We will also be in town for the Taste of Yountville, which should be good. And we are planning to try a Calistoga mud bath.
What we can't decide on is whether to stop at Mondavi. I'm really torn about that. I've had the wine--who hasn't? It's everywhere. It's a reliable wine--nothing spectacular, but good. The Mondavi reserves are supposedly incredible, but since that's not in my budget these days, maybe it's better if I don't know what I'm missing. Frankly I'm not overly excited about touring that particular vineyard.
That being said, I have a lot of respect for Robert Mondavi. His mass-marketing of wine changed the way Americans viewed wine, and we should be thankful for that. If it weren't for Americans' relatively new interest in wine, would we have places like Napa and Sonoma to visit? Maybe we would, but would we care? Mondavi is an incredibly successful businessman, and he made wine an accessible drink. For that reason I feel compelled to pay homage to him.
Good wine. Good food. Beautiful gardens and farms. And an entire week ALONE with my husband! I can't wait!
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Designing Gardens
Several weeks ago I took Connor to a birthday party at his classmate's house. The yard was incredible. I spent the entire time oohing and aahing over the variety of plants and the overall design. It was fabulous. The yard was surrounded by gray brick retaining walls, planted with shrubs at the top. There was a layer of shrubs and perennials at the ground level, and the overall effect was dimension and depth to an otherwise flat space. The entrance to the yard was a long path, and with the retaining walls spilling over with plants and draped with ivy, it felt almost enchanting and mystical. The path wove through a small play area with a sandbox, and then made its way to the back, where there was a square patch of lawn, a swing set, and two Adirondack chairs. There was a screened-in-porch overlooking everything, and paths that disappeared in a maze of plants. That was just the back yard; I never even saw the front (I entered from the side. I admit that I actually drove by that house later, just to catch a glimpse of the front landscape.)
When I met the hostess, I told her how fabulous and wonderful her yard was.
"The prior owner was a landscape architect," she replied. "You should have seen it when we moved in."
Oh, if only....
I returned home and began researching retaining walls. And I realized that a yard like that would cost at least $20,000. Maybe even more. Ouch.
Not to worry. I picked up a Southern Living a few days later and was inspired by another garden. A kitchen garden, they called it. Now this was practical. I suddenly pictured a harvest of corn, watermelon, peppers, tomatoes, onions, and lettuce. I pictured herbs intermingled throughout. I pictured a brick patio lying next to it, separating it from the back lawn where Connor plays. I would put it on the side of the house, next to the wooden patio, which is one of the few spots in our yard with ample sun. The bay windows in the kitchen would overlook it. It would be somewhat formal in design, but the plants would be allowed to grow and sprawl as they pleased. A kind of merging of the natural and formal worlds.
A little more research revealed that the kitchen gardens of Colonial Williamsburg might give me everything I dream of. I found yet another garden, with limestone-gravel paths edged in brick, and patches of vegetable gardens where the plants grow abundantly. Two bonuses to this particular design: (1) with the brick layout, it would look nice even in the winter, and (2) slugs hate limestone (or so I'm told).
And so I set out to the library to find a book on the gardens of Colonial Williamsburg. I was determined to find a layout that would fit my space so that I could mimic it in my own yard. They had one book, and according to the computer catalog it was checked in. But I couldn't find it anywhere. I was so frustrated. I considered asking for assistance, but I had Laila in the carrier, who was trying to figure out how to get my boobs out of my shirt, and Connor running wild through the aisles, pulling books off the shelves and asking when we were going to go look at his books. I settled on Classic Garden Plans and The Art of the Kitchen Garden instead.
And now my head is spinning. My problem is I love them all. I can't pick one and stick with it (which is why I will never do a $20,000 landscape). No matter what I choose, there's a good chance I will change my mind in a year. And since gardens take several years to fully develop, I fear I may never get ahead.
I plan and plan and plan, and when planting time comes I head to the nursery with my little list, but I never buy what's on the list. Sometimes I can't find the right plants. Sometimes the plants I need don't look particularly healthy. But more often than not I am inspired by a different plant that I see, and I buy it (or several) with no idea where they will go, and then I get home and just put them somewhere, which in turn messes up the plan I originally had. Sometimes it works; most of the time it doesn't, and I make plans to move the plants when the weather cools down.
Gardening is a slow process. Gardening requires patience. Although in essence it is simple, there is so much to learn about it. In one of the garden blogs that I read (Garden Rant), the blogger (Michele Owens) states that although she has been growing vegetables for 18 years, she is still learning fundamental things. If that's the case, then I suppose I will never become bored of gardening.
When I met the hostess, I told her how fabulous and wonderful her yard was.
"The prior owner was a landscape architect," she replied. "You should have seen it when we moved in."
Oh, if only....
I returned home and began researching retaining walls. And I realized that a yard like that would cost at least $20,000. Maybe even more. Ouch.
Not to worry. I picked up a Southern Living a few days later and was inspired by another garden. A kitchen garden, they called it. Now this was practical. I suddenly pictured a harvest of corn, watermelon, peppers, tomatoes, onions, and lettuce. I pictured herbs intermingled throughout. I pictured a brick patio lying next to it, separating it from the back lawn where Connor plays. I would put it on the side of the house, next to the wooden patio, which is one of the few spots in our yard with ample sun. The bay windows in the kitchen would overlook it. It would be somewhat formal in design, but the plants would be allowed to grow and sprawl as they pleased. A kind of merging of the natural and formal worlds.
A little more research revealed that the kitchen gardens of Colonial Williamsburg might give me everything I dream of. I found yet another garden, with limestone-gravel paths edged in brick, and patches of vegetable gardens where the plants grow abundantly. Two bonuses to this particular design: (1) with the brick layout, it would look nice even in the winter, and (2) slugs hate limestone (or so I'm told).
And so I set out to the library to find a book on the gardens of Colonial Williamsburg. I was determined to find a layout that would fit my space so that I could mimic it in my own yard. They had one book, and according to the computer catalog it was checked in. But I couldn't find it anywhere. I was so frustrated. I considered asking for assistance, but I had Laila in the carrier, who was trying to figure out how to get my boobs out of my shirt, and Connor running wild through the aisles, pulling books off the shelves and asking when we were going to go look at his books. I settled on Classic Garden Plans and The Art of the Kitchen Garden instead.
And now my head is spinning. My problem is I love them all. I can't pick one and stick with it (which is why I will never do a $20,000 landscape). No matter what I choose, there's a good chance I will change my mind in a year. And since gardens take several years to fully develop, I fear I may never get ahead.
I plan and plan and plan, and when planting time comes I head to the nursery with my little list, but I never buy what's on the list. Sometimes I can't find the right plants. Sometimes the plants I need don't look particularly healthy. But more often than not I am inspired by a different plant that I see, and I buy it (or several) with no idea where they will go, and then I get home and just put them somewhere, which in turn messes up the plan I originally had. Sometimes it works; most of the time it doesn't, and I make plans to move the plants when the weather cools down.
Gardening is a slow process. Gardening requires patience. Although in essence it is simple, there is so much to learn about it. In one of the garden blogs that I read (Garden Rant), the blogger (Michele Owens) states that although she has been growing vegetables for 18 years, she is still learning fundamental things. If that's the case, then I suppose I will never become bored of gardening.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Ugh--Slugs
I have slug damage on my strawberries, delphiniums, and dahlias. My pepper plants are almost dead. The lettuce seeds I planted never even stood a chance--once they sprouted they mysteriously disappeared (I blame the slugs). I have replanted marigolds once already.
I tried beer. The slugs must have been on to me: I didn't trap a single one.
I read perlite could deter slugs from attacking a plant. Since there was no harm in trying, I spread it around the plants most susceptible to slug damage. It looked silly: my plants had white rings around their base, about 4-5 inches thick. I laughed at myself when I saw a slug crawling over the perlite.
Saturday morning, before leaving for a camping trip, I went outside with the salt shaker. I killed at least fifteen. I took great pleasure in it. Lee thought it was sadistic; I think it's nature at work. (After all, I am at the top of the food chain.)
But when I returned from the trip, I went to look at the garden, and all the marigolds were dead.
My next step will be slug bait. I am somewhat loathe to resort to a pesticide, but if I want marigolds it seems there is no other way.
I asked Mom if slug bait would actually work. She just shrugged her shoulders and said, "I eventually quit planting things that slugs like."
When I pull up the marigolds, I may try coleus. Does anyone know if slugs will eat those?
I tried beer. The slugs must have been on to me: I didn't trap a single one.
I read perlite could deter slugs from attacking a plant. Since there was no harm in trying, I spread it around the plants most susceptible to slug damage. It looked silly: my plants had white rings around their base, about 4-5 inches thick. I laughed at myself when I saw a slug crawling over the perlite.
Saturday morning, before leaving for a camping trip, I went outside with the salt shaker. I killed at least fifteen. I took great pleasure in it. Lee thought it was sadistic; I think it's nature at work. (After all, I am at the top of the food chain.)
But when I returned from the trip, I went to look at the garden, and all the marigolds were dead.
My next step will be slug bait. I am somewhat loathe to resort to a pesticide, but if I want marigolds it seems there is no other way.
I asked Mom if slug bait would actually work. She just shrugged her shoulders and said, "I eventually quit planting things that slugs like."
When I pull up the marigolds, I may try coleus. Does anyone know if slugs will eat those?
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Pumpkin Patch
We have a patch of land on the side of our house that is a wasteland of sorts. It is completely fenced in, but there is a fence separating it from our backyard. The prior owners used this area to store their boats. It has a storage shed, a separate dilapidated shed for storing wood, and lots of weeds.
When I first saw the house I had dreams of turning it into a vegetable garden. I envisioned rows of corn, tomatoes, cucumbers, peppers, and whatever else I could dream up (and manage to grow). But at the closing we learned that there is an easement running through this patch of land, in the form of a huge sewer pipe that is buried only about an inch below the ground. No worries, I thought--I'll just build a bunch of raised beds. Except that, as my dad pointed out, the area is too shaded for vegetables. True.
So I have been pondering, since then, what to do with that patch of land.
This past weekend my mom led me to her own little wasteland--the area behind their shed where she puts empty plant pots, bags of dirt, and struggling plants. Last fall , after Halloween, she put her pumpkins back there. She intended to dispose of them, but never got around to it. The pumpkins rotted, the seeds fell out, and in their place are lots of baby pumpkin plants. In my mind it's a beautiful story of survival, but I have a tendency to over-romanticize everything. Mom offered me some of the plants. I wasn't really sure where I would put them, but I knew Connor would love them.
I have never grown pumpkins. I've never even seen a pumpkin patch, or a pumpkin plant for that matter. So I did some Internet research. I discovered that these things are huge. Huge is really an understatement. The leaves are much larger than an adult's hand. Heck, the leaves might be larger than Laila. These things sprawl and spread, and can even climb a house and cover a roof. The Native Americans planted them next to corn patches, along with beans. The beans climbed the corn stalks, and the pumpkin vines sprawled between them. The large pumpkin leaves suppressed weed growth and kept moisture in, to aid the growing corn and beans. They called them The Three Sisters.
I've decided to plant my pumpkin plants in the wasteland. I am going to tear down the dilapidated shed, hoe out the weeds, and plant the pumpkins. I have visions of a beautiful pumpkin patch this fall, dotted with bright orange perfectly shaped pumpkins. I may even plant some corn and beans. I think Connor will love it. Lee thinks it's the most random thing ever. It probably is, but it'll make a great spot for a Halloween party.
When I first saw the house I had dreams of turning it into a vegetable garden. I envisioned rows of corn, tomatoes, cucumbers, peppers, and whatever else I could dream up (and manage to grow). But at the closing we learned that there is an easement running through this patch of land, in the form of a huge sewer pipe that is buried only about an inch below the ground. No worries, I thought--I'll just build a bunch of raised beds. Except that, as my dad pointed out, the area is too shaded for vegetables. True.
So I have been pondering, since then, what to do with that patch of land.
This past weekend my mom led me to her own little wasteland--the area behind their shed where she puts empty plant pots, bags of dirt, and struggling plants. Last fall , after Halloween, she put her pumpkins back there. She intended to dispose of them, but never got around to it. The pumpkins rotted, the seeds fell out, and in their place are lots of baby pumpkin plants. In my mind it's a beautiful story of survival, but I have a tendency to over-romanticize everything. Mom offered me some of the plants. I wasn't really sure where I would put them, but I knew Connor would love them.
I have never grown pumpkins. I've never even seen a pumpkin patch, or a pumpkin plant for that matter. So I did some Internet research. I discovered that these things are huge. Huge is really an understatement. The leaves are much larger than an adult's hand. Heck, the leaves might be larger than Laila. These things sprawl and spread, and can even climb a house and cover a roof. The Native Americans planted them next to corn patches, along with beans. The beans climbed the corn stalks, and the pumpkin vines sprawled between them. The large pumpkin leaves suppressed weed growth and kept moisture in, to aid the growing corn and beans. They called them The Three Sisters.
I've decided to plant my pumpkin plants in the wasteland. I am going to tear down the dilapidated shed, hoe out the weeds, and plant the pumpkins. I have visions of a beautiful pumpkin patch this fall, dotted with bright orange perfectly shaped pumpkins. I may even plant some corn and beans. I think Connor will love it. Lee thinks it's the most random thing ever. It probably is, but it'll make a great spot for a Halloween party.
Friday, April 24, 2009
Are Books Dying?
In Eats, Shoots & Leaves (I know, I'm a nerd), Lynne Truss laments the demise of punctuation in today's society. This demise is brought on largely by the Internet. In the final chapter, Merely Conventional Signs, she posits that technology may eventually replace all printing, including books.
Are books dying?
God, I hope not.
I have heard for many years now that newspapers are dead. This is nothing new. With the Internet we can receive news instantly via Twitter. By the time the newspaper is printed, everyone with the Internet has already heard what the newspaper has to say. My father works in the newspaper industry, and he is well-aware that it is dying. I don't have quite the same affinity for newspapers as I do for books, but I am a little saddened by its demise as well. I can't imagine working the Sunday Crossword Puzzle on a computer, though I know that many people do. There's just something special about curling up with the folded newspaper and a pen, scribbling in the margins and writing over wrong words.
But books? That just breaks my heart.
One of my fondest memories as a child was curling up with my mom for a bedtime story. She wasn't an avid reader, but she made sure to spend time reading with me every day, and through that time I developed a curiosity for and a love of reading. I'm not sure it would have been quite the same experience if we had huddled together next to a computer screen.
There is definitely a place for the Internet, and I think it's a great thing. I love facebook. I love blogging. I love that I can work from home thanks to email. But it's a different medium.
Books are more portable than the internet. I know we have wi-fi and laptops and smart phones, but those require electricity at some point. Those require being within range of a network. And somehow toting a laptop to the beach doesn't seem quite as appealing as tossing a book in the beach bag.
Books require more focus. This is a great skill for children to learn, as it will prepare them for learning in general. Unlike the Internet, books don't have flashing lights or blinking icons vying for your attention. And books tend to focus on one topic. When you pick up a book, you know what you will be reading about. When you conduct an Internet search, you really never know where you'll end up (although I have found some very interesting articles this way).
Books are accurate. When a book is published, editors check the validity of claims made by the author. On the Internet, however, the writer merely hits "post", and it's published for all to see, regardless of whether there's any legitimacy to it. There is a lot of misinformation promulgated by the Internet (e.g. chain emails--just ask my husband!).
Books are more permanent. Whereas a published book has the potential to be around for a thousand years or more, this blog will probably be ancient history in less than ten.
Although it's great that there is a medium that is openly available to all, there is something to be said for the old publishing process. In the past publishers rejected thousands of manuscripts, saving readers the time of having to sift through a whole lot of crap to find something decent to read. And editors checked grammar and punctuation, preserving our written language and sorting out ambiguities that the writer may not have noticed.
We read books to our children, and my hope is that someday they will read books to their children. But will our grandchildren read books to their children? Will books still be around, or will they be obsolete?
I don't forsee books becoming obsolete in my lifetime. If so, I will be proud to be considered "old fashioned" in my old age as I sit by the ocean sipping a margarita and turning the pages of a book.
Are books dying?
God, I hope not.
I have heard for many years now that newspapers are dead. This is nothing new. With the Internet we can receive news instantly via Twitter. By the time the newspaper is printed, everyone with the Internet has already heard what the newspaper has to say. My father works in the newspaper industry, and he is well-aware that it is dying. I don't have quite the same affinity for newspapers as I do for books, but I am a little saddened by its demise as well. I can't imagine working the Sunday Crossword Puzzle on a computer, though I know that many people do. There's just something special about curling up with the folded newspaper and a pen, scribbling in the margins and writing over wrong words.
But books? That just breaks my heart.
One of my fondest memories as a child was curling up with my mom for a bedtime story. She wasn't an avid reader, but she made sure to spend time reading with me every day, and through that time I developed a curiosity for and a love of reading. I'm not sure it would have been quite the same experience if we had huddled together next to a computer screen.
There is definitely a place for the Internet, and I think it's a great thing. I love facebook. I love blogging. I love that I can work from home thanks to email. But it's a different medium.
Books are more portable than the internet. I know we have wi-fi and laptops and smart phones, but those require electricity at some point. Those require being within range of a network. And somehow toting a laptop to the beach doesn't seem quite as appealing as tossing a book in the beach bag.
Books require more focus. This is a great skill for children to learn, as it will prepare them for learning in general. Unlike the Internet, books don't have flashing lights or blinking icons vying for your attention. And books tend to focus on one topic. When you pick up a book, you know what you will be reading about. When you conduct an Internet search, you really never know where you'll end up (although I have found some very interesting articles this way).
Books are accurate. When a book is published, editors check the validity of claims made by the author. On the Internet, however, the writer merely hits "post", and it's published for all to see, regardless of whether there's any legitimacy to it. There is a lot of misinformation promulgated by the Internet (e.g. chain emails--just ask my husband!).
Books are more permanent. Whereas a published book has the potential to be around for a thousand years or more, this blog will probably be ancient history in less than ten.
Although it's great that there is a medium that is openly available to all, there is something to be said for the old publishing process. In the past publishers rejected thousands of manuscripts, saving readers the time of having to sift through a whole lot of crap to find something decent to read. And editors checked grammar and punctuation, preserving our written language and sorting out ambiguities that the writer may not have noticed.
We read books to our children, and my hope is that someday they will read books to their children. But will our grandchildren read books to their children? Will books still be around, or will they be obsolete?
I don't forsee books becoming obsolete in my lifetime. If so, I will be proud to be considered "old fashioned" in my old age as I sit by the ocean sipping a margarita and turning the pages of a book.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Ahh, Spring
So I did it again. I had to make yet another trip to Lowe's for dirt (my fourth trip for dirt in the last two weeks). I have a ton of plants that I need to get in the ground, but our soil is so heavy that I have to add compost and perlite to break it up, and then topsoil to build it up. Anyway, I ran out again. Back to Lowe's. This time I am not buying any plants, I told myself.
Except the foxgloves had just arrived, and they were so pretty. And since you can't buy just one, I went ahead a bought two.
And then there were tomatoes (I bought nine), peppers (ten), marigolds (two packs of 6). Then I remembered my herb garden, and decided to pick up some parsley and thyme--I will actually use those to cook (unlike the tomatoes, which I don't really like but feel the need to plant anyway). Fortunately they were out of cilantro and citronella, although I am sure I will be back for those plants soon.
I have purposefully been avoiding looking at the credit card statement this month. I'm usually very good about tracking our spending, but sometimes I just don't want to know. Lee will tell me when the balance is paid off, I'll probably freak out about the amount, and then I'll start a new budget. I'll wipe the slate clean and tell myself that I have been in control of my spending all year.
But for now, the sun is out, it's 78 degrees, Laila is napping, and I'm going to garden!
Except the foxgloves had just arrived, and they were so pretty. And since you can't buy just one, I went ahead a bought two.
And then there were tomatoes (I bought nine), peppers (ten), marigolds (two packs of 6). Then I remembered my herb garden, and decided to pick up some parsley and thyme--I will actually use those to cook (unlike the tomatoes, which I don't really like but feel the need to plant anyway). Fortunately they were out of cilantro and citronella, although I am sure I will be back for those plants soon.
I have purposefully been avoiding looking at the credit card statement this month. I'm usually very good about tracking our spending, but sometimes I just don't want to know. Lee will tell me when the balance is paid off, I'll probably freak out about the amount, and then I'll start a new budget. I'll wipe the slate clean and tell myself that I have been in control of my spending all year.
But for now, the sun is out, it's 78 degrees, Laila is napping, and I'm going to garden!
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Ookie-pookie
I'm going to embarrass my brother (and probably myself). I have a proclivity for goofy nicknames. Connor is Nut (ok, it's not that original); Laila is Piddle (don't ask). When I was growing up my brother was ookie-pookie. Seriously. I have no idea where it came from.
He was my best friend during my childhood, and yet we are so completely different:
1. He's a boy; I'm a girl.
2. He hated school; I was a nerd.
3. He's a peacemaker; I'm argumentative.
4. He's laid-back; I'm type-A.
5. He's conservative; I voted for Obama.
6. He hates recycling; I want to be "green."
7. He's content in SC; I want to leave the country.
8. He hates lawyers; I'm a lawyer.
9. He prefers the country; I prefer the city.
10. He prefers "Southern" cooking; I prefer everything else.
I'm sure I could think of a million more. But I love my brother to death, despite all our differences. I just hope he doesn't hate me after reading this....
He was my best friend during my childhood, and yet we are so completely different:
1. He's a boy; I'm a girl.
2. He hated school; I was a nerd.
3. He's a peacemaker; I'm argumentative.
4. He's laid-back; I'm type-A.
5. He's conservative; I voted for Obama.
6. He hates recycling; I want to be "green."
7. He's content in SC; I want to leave the country.
8. He hates lawyers; I'm a lawyer.
9. He prefers the country; I prefer the city.
10. He prefers "Southern" cooking; I prefer everything else.
I'm sure I could think of a million more. But I love my brother to death, despite all our differences. I just hope he doesn't hate me after reading this....
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