food, crochet, merriment
100 Happy Days #39 
Ooooh, I’m snapping my camera as fast…
as…
I can.
Because all this pink magic, simply refuses to stay for long.
Only a few days actually.
And then no matter how much we whine and fuss, it all starts coming down.
Mother Nature– the lovely, luscious, litterbug.
Say that three times fast.
:]
We are sooo ready for this spring stuff to really truly get here and stay.
The trees are flowering…
and snowing petals everywhere.
The periwinkle is blooming all over the place…
and the crazy old blueberry bush has kicked back in.
So much of the yard is cooperating just as it should…
and the back grass is finally, FINALLY green.
Yesterday the Bald Kid tilled up the garden patch and dug in all the old weed control newspapers that were still hanging around from last year.
And I’m learning how to use my dad’s very cool composter to make our hard old Utah clay just a bit more wonderful.
Pretty proud of our compose in progress–oh, do be proud of me.
But the best part is that my little patch, the one that’s kinda mine, well, it’s getting an overhaul this week.
We’re pulling out all the weeds and any other odd things we find, thinning the strawberries and trimming back the roses and planting a few perennial flowers here and there just because we want to.
We’re pulling out the old broken wood border and replacing it with something…better (imagine me giggling my head off!).
Oh, we’re ready all right to go out there and get to work making it all beautiful and orderly and crisp and tidy and flowery…
tomorrow.
~sigh~
:}
While everyone is out planting their real gardens around here, I must confess that I’ve been working on a few “seedlings” of my own. Heh, heh, heh. Aren’t these the cutest little garden cupcakes you’ve ever seen? And such a painless way to get a few more–ahem–vegetables into your system. Baaaa!
Start with fruity Mike and Ikes. I picked several kinds to make sure I had plenty of orange ones.
Plus all the leftovers didn’t hurt my feelings any either. :}
I’d never seen Rips Whips before, and I tore them out of the bag before getting a picture. Essentially, they are skinny, little multicolored licorice strings. You’ll be using the green ones–so go ahead and eat the rest.
First just take a paring knife and make a tiny cut clear through the top of each little orange candy.
Now, cut the green licorice into one inch pieces. Then with scissors or a knife cut through the top of the licorice about half way down the piece so it looks like greenery.
Next, gently pinch the sides of the orange candy to open the cut up just a bit. Don’t get too rambunctious with this step or you’ll crack the outsides and make them ugly. Then, well, you’ll have to eat them.
Now poke the green stems into the top of your carrot. I used the tip of a knife to set it in–that worked the best for me.
Carefully squeeze your carrot closed a bit around the green top.
Oh, just look at your little harvest! Aren’t they adorable?!
All that’s left to do now is to “plant” your little candy carrots into your favorite patch…I mean batch of chocolate cupcakes. These sweet things–along with a tall glass of ice water–will make a fine reward for all those little backyard farmers coming in from a long day with the rototiller. Wouldn’t you say?
Oh, I do so love Spring!
Truth be told, I’ve never really been one to walk around outside in the yard just to snap 600 pictures of a gnarly old tree.
Until now, that is.
See, we have this incredible crab apple tree out front that–when the stars align just right–will one day be green and plain and overnight, will explode into this magical, cotton-candy-pink creation that literally takes your breath away.
No kidding. We’ve actually had people stop their cars in the middle of the road and tell us how beautiful our whole street is…
because of this one tree. But look long and hard, because it will only last a couple of days and then, the petals fade and blow away.
Funny thing is, that we’d taken this pretty thing nearly for granted for a couple of years. You know, “Oh, look–the tree’s pink again,” that sort of thing, until one time when it just didn’t ever bloom…at all.
We thought maybe it was a every-other-year type thing.
Then the next Spring we had a hard frost and when nothing blossomed in the yard anywhere, we figured the cold was to blame.
Then last April, we wondered out loud if we had done something wrong or if the tree was old and giving up, or what could possibly be the matter. Almost as if it was trying to soothe our worries, a few scant blossoms appeared…a bare handful, here and there.
So this year, we watched and waited, anxious to see if our tree still had it, or not. And to our surprise, and relief, one day we woke up to all of this…
and this…
and this.
Oh, those delicate, tissue flowers, that beautiful, perfect shade of pink–how we’ve missed you!
Welcome, welcome back.