Sprouting, Anticipating

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Yesterday I discovered a paper bag with four paperwhite bulbs—forgotten and sprouting exuberantly. I tucked them in among the spent paperwhite bulbs I planted in December.

All our outdoor bulbs remain under a thick blanket of snow. The Irish daffodils are appearing in our markets and were irresistible.Their scent fills the house and nips at the tails of the woodsmoke. They increase my anticipation for a trip to Ireland only six weeks away. Travel and spring. Both worth waiting for, I think.

I’m happy to keep the perpetual flow of green indoors until our world shifts to spring. 129twigandvine_daffodils

 

Eat Sleep Read

129twigandvine eat sleep read

This is my idea of a good time.When I’m not hanging from the chandeliers or mucking out a henhouse I do like to eat, sleep and read.

It is also the playful slogan of independent bookstore organization indiebound. I’ve seen this banner in several of my favorite locally owned bookstores, and it simply states what I most like to do on a snowy weekend day.

Not in the cards this weekend, however. We’re heading to Manhattan and Brooklyn for five days of eating, exploring, and cooking with our brother and sister-in-law. I’m already anticipating oysters, tamales, dark handmade chocolate.

Yellow Blooms, Late February

forced forsythia blooms

Nine days after I brought forsythia branches indoors I found the first three flowers opening. By today—day eleven—the whole arrangement is showing off. Through the yellow tinged branches I can see a red cardinal flitting around in the falling snow. Two thirds of the primary color group is making an appearance on a late February day.

forced forsythia blooms

Pears and Tulips. Snow Covered Branches.

129twigandvine_single_pear Two nights ago R and I crawled into bed grumbling about snow and cold and wind. We’ve had our fair share of each lately. We love snow, usually. But winter was wearing us down.

How funny, then, to wake up to winter paradise the next morning. It’s like Mother Nature overheard us and decided to win us back. Well done, Mother Nature. I am in love with you again. At least until the next blustery night when the windows rattle and clumps of heavy snow fall intermittently from the roof.

Winter self preservation: a bouquet of tulips and a bowl of green pears. The last one asked to be photographed and I obliged.

129twigandvine_tulips 129twigandvine_snow_branches

Forcing Forsythia, the Love of Orange

cappella_kicheloe_image

Photo by Capella Kincheloe Interior Design

As I typed the words ‘forcing forsythia’ I heard them spoken in the voice of Sylvester, the cartoon cat who always chased Tweety Bird.

These metal industrial stools cheered me when I came across them this morning via Nest Design Studio. I do love orange, and a jolly little 1940s milk pitcher, a small le Creuset butter pan and a few Staub shallow dishes are practically glowing on my shelves this morning in all their orangeness.

Then the forsythia filled me with longing for Spring—which is a long way away in these northern parts. Just yesterday I found my secateurs under a dusting of snow in the alcove off the porch. (The wind blew snow into every nook and cranny in this last storm.)

I’ll cut forsythia branches to force today. If you’ve never done this, it’s so simple to do: clip branches close to the main trunk of your bush until you have a bundle to fill a vase (or put single branches into a group of glass bottles).

Put the branches in warm water, then fill your sink with very hot water.

Submerge each branch in the sink and (under the water) recut the end at an angle, then cut a one inch slice through the end of the stem (to help the branch absorb the water).

Make your arrangement and put it out to display. The branches will respond to the water and indoor warmth and blossom in due time. They will last longer if you change the water regularly and don’t have them in direct sun or near direct heat. That can be hard in our house, so I just enjoy whatever blooming comes my way. The yellow flowers are dazzling when lit up by sunlight.

Happy winter gardening.

Image from Capella Kincheloe Interior Design, found via Nest Design Studio.

More great information about forcing branches: Fine Gardening.

Drifting

129twigandvine_driftsToday’s word: drifts.

It’s hard to measure a snowfall on a morning with the wind howling and snow blowing about forming clouds in the otherwise blue sky.

We braved the weather to feed the animals, shovel some paths, clean off the cars. And now we’re warming by the fire and watching the snowscape shift and reshape itself under the sunshine and tree shadows.

Thinking of India During a Snowstorm

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The snow is piling up, just as they said. For once the hype seems true. My main happiness is watching it obscure all the broken branches under the trees, and the last piles of garden debris I raked up but never hauled to the compost pile. And then there is the copious amount of horse manure down in the field. I’m pretty happy to see it fully erased from the kitchen table view.

All these things were bared after our first snows melted in rain two weeks ago. Winter’s game of peekaboo continues.

Hidden. Revealed. Hidden. Revealed.

(This storm could keep it all hidden until April, for all we know.)129twigandvine_theweavers1

Here is some eye candy I’ve been taking in this morning—visions of handmade textiles in India. Somehow I stumbled on the above image of sewing hands and traced it to The Weavers, in New Delhi, India.

At this writing their website is under construction, but here is a link to show you more of their lovely wares.

Vivid color, tactile beauty and handmade design befitting a snowy day.

129twigandvine_theweavers

DIY, Moss Winter Garden

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The days are lengthening, I can already tell. The chickens, who took a break from laying for a few weeks, are sharing an egg per day.

Around now the indoor greenery is keeping my spirits up. The tips of narcissus are reaching toward the ceiling, and the amaryllis has a fat bud that looks promising. Also green and thriving is the winter garden with moss and stones.

I gathered moss before the snow flew back in December and put this winter garden together. It was so easy to do and sustains my link to the dirt under all that snow. About once a week I take off the dome and spray the moss to keep it moist and green.

If you are able to find some woodland rocks on a south facing slope, you can still gather moss. Even with a ton of snow on the fields, I’ve seen some green spots peeking out here and there on my back-road drive to my parent’s house. I have plans to collect moss to surround the amaryllis bulb I mentioned.

Winter Garden

What you need:

  • a plate or container for a little soil and stones (moss only needs stone and a tiny bit of dirt and moisture to thrive)
  • glass dome (I found this at my local thrift store)
  • gathered moss—if you can find a few different varieties it adds to the interest of the garden. Some mosses will become cushioned and velvety. Others will send up little shoots like small antennae).
  • a small porcelain item can be a nice decorative touch, or a small cut branch with winterberry for some color.
  • spray bottle filled with water

Arrange your stones on a plate, or fill a container with stones and then soil. Moisten the soil. Top with several stones for the moss to grow over.

Collect your moss and blanket the stones and soil with the pieces. If your moss is in tiny pieces lay them together. They will fill in quickly as the moss grows.

Using the spray bottle thoroughly mist the top of the moss.

Add any decorative porcelain birds or small berry twigs now.

Place the dome on top. If condensation forms, prop the dome open a little with a utensil to allow some moisture to escape for about a day. You can leave the winter garden in the sunshine to help speed the drying. Then close the dome again to keep most of the moisture in.

Spray the moss about once a week. If it gets brown, don’t worry. Spray it and it will revive again in a few days.

A Fresh Path in the Snow

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Today I took down the Christmas tree. The momentary sadness was instantly replaced with the euphoria that comes with moving the furniture around. I trimmed the rosemary plant of dry ends and woody twigs, filling the house with its piny scent, to replace the traces of balsam that went out the door moments before.

R placed the now-bare tree outside the window in a snowbank like we always do, and found a wild turkey feather in the snow which he tucked into the branches. (A flock of turkeys have been roosting in the crab apple tree each night and eating below the bird feeder in the mornings.) We’ll try to add to the feather as we find other natural flotsam and jetsam that flies in on the wind.

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This afternoon was windless and not very cold. We walked down the road and then snow-shoed onto a trail nearby. Breaking new trails in deep snow is never easy.

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Farewell to another holiday season. What new trails will we break in 2013? Time will tell.

129twigandvine_winter_window

The Eve of the Eve

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Winter kept us waiting. But yesterday seemed to seal our chances for a white Christmas. Curtains of snow fell, finally blanketing the last of the kale in the garden, and coating each branch with nature’s best holiday tinsel. Even the animals seemed to enjoy the snow.

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129twigandvine_winterberry2The last of the bold red winterberry—uneaten by the birds—shone out against the monochrome sky.129twigandvine_felt_garland

I strung a collection of felt beads into a garland and hung it from the cupboard above the teapots and bowls. 129twigandvine_snowfall3

The world is still after a windy night. I filled containers to make ice lanterns (how to make them here). The mercury will dip well below freezing tonight.

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A friend sent me a lemon curd recipe and the house filled with the sharp crisp scent of citrus as I zested three lemons this afternoon. Sun streamed into the kitchen—a welcome sight after a gray week—and the curls of zest cast their own inner glow. 129twigandvine_lemon_zest

From the eve before Christmas Eve I wish you and yours a festive holiday time of togetherness, warmth and gratitude. May the peace of the season be with you all.

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