Chicken's of the Sea

It was a Sunday in early summer, 1967 when my father left this earth. I passed by him on my way to church while he tended his vegetable garden. I said good bye not knowing it would mean forever. My mother and two  brothers, Bob and Joe stayed at home as they had already gone to the 7 am mass. My brother Bob was the youngest. He would turn six four days later, on the day we buried my dad. He and my brother Joe were with my dad in the yard that morning. My father was only 43. Our family doctor, John O'Brien suggested she put somthing in the area to detract from this sad memory. She installed a small swimming pool, it helped .
 Now Bob loved animals, or as he called them"aminals". When he would attend summer art classes he would sculpt dogs, horses and evan buffalo.  Dr. O'Brien told my mother try to let him have animals to raise and take care of so he understands the life cycle. So his first choice was chickens. Then came the ducks, rabbits and fish. Mom stopped him when he asked for a goat! There were always chickens roaming our property.Two Lake Horns, a Rhode Island Red named Alice who took a baby duck under her wing. We had a black bantam named appropriately 'the Hawk'. We had a rooster who woke us every morning. The whole neighborhood as well.  Alice raised her own chicks. The hawk was our best layer. We always had fresh eggs. My Uncle Frank helped him build the coop. I have  fond memorys of trips to Agway to purchase "chicken mash" in large bags along with hay for the rabbits.
 Bob learned about the life cycle indeed! One night we had masked intruders in the coop !! We all awoke to a frenzy of clucking and squaking & feathers flying.. Racoons! Bob like the little man he had become ran out with the rest of us. They all were okay, but the Hawk was injured. Her comb was torn. We thought she wouldn't make it. Our mom was the queen of solutions. She cleaned the wound and wrapped gauze around its head . Well the hawk looked... very un hawkish. More like a picture out of a Beatrix Potter book. The Hawk had a bonnet!
 So his animals came and went. Bob learned about the "life cycle". He grew up went to art school in Manhattan had a cat named Putty in his apartment. Putty lived to be 17. He is an Art Director now. He and his wife Jeanne live on the beach. They have two cats, two dogs and there newest addition... four chickens. Silver Laced Wyandotte's. They are known for being docile, good egg producers and cold hearty. There names ..Fee , Fi, Fo & Fum. They roam his beach front property, while swans, geese, ducks and egrets float just feet away from them. I often think how much Bob is like my dad. Dad would have loved this. He probably would have named them Fee, Fi, Fo & Fum too!

Pickles

My fruit and vegetable garden has finally reached notable size at this time of year, and now the real harvesting begins.  Noticing a generous amount of cucumbers come through the back door, the man of the house put in a request for some Half-Sour Pickles.  Bless his Jewish heart.  Feeling up for the challenge this morning, I fulfilled his wishes.  He likes his food spicy and I had a few ripe chili peppers in the garden so I added them but they're optional of course.

• 5-6 SMALL, FRESH CUCUMBERS washed thoroughly & the very tip of the stem side cut-off to prevent softening.
• 3-4 GARLIC CLOVES smashed
• 1/2 CUP PICKLING SPICE
• 2 TBSP WHOLE BLACK PEPPERCORNS
• SEVERAL SPRIGS OF FRESH DILL
• 1/2 CUP SALT
• 8 CUPS WATER
• CHILI PEPPERS (optional)
• WAX PAPER
• CANNING JARS ( I used 1Qt.Wide Mouth Ball jars but you can improvise

Combine WATER, SALT, GARLIC, DILL, BLACK PEPPERCORNS & PICKLING SPICE.  Place CUKES into CANNING JARS.  Add CHILI PEPPERS (if you like). Pour liquid mixture over CUCUMBERS until COMPLETELY COVERED.




Loosely cover with wax paper.  Let sit in a cool place on the counter for about 2 days.  Then seal the lid and refrigerate for about 8 days more before eating.  Enjoy!

Summer Tablescape

I love to change up the centerpieces on my kitchen table throughout the year.  I've done several this summer but I think this one is my favorite.  A collection of old bottles, some greens and flowers from both the yard and the market and some shells from the beach and voila....

~Krishtia

My Hydrangea Heart

One of my very favorite things about summer-time is watching perennials get their "moment in the sun".  Dearest to my heart are hydrangea.  With their striking size and assortment of vibrant colors they're the heart and soul of the garden.  When I was a child, my grandma told me they bloomed for my July birthday.  Looking back, I am not sure if she meant to convince me that they bloomed for me as a sort of birthday gift or if she just meant they naturally coincided with my birthday - but I chose to believe the former.  She still picks a bouquet for my birthday every year and they'll forever be a reminder of her.

Yesterday, I was struck by the understated sparkle of the Limelight Hydrangea in bloom at my neighborhood's beach.

And perfectly on cue, a sailboat came into the picture...

I have many varieties in my own gardens.  I inherited a large hedge of Lacecap's when I bought my house that have tripled in size since.  Their various shades of violet and blue look so striking together.

Just two years ago, I planted what have become two huge pink Mophead's on each side of the stairs of my deck.  They're very happy there and their overflowing blooms are so heavy they're dragging on the ground.  They've made for plenty of beautiful arrangements over the past few weeks.

I have one white Annabelle hydrangea.  Annabelle is my grandmother's name and it is my ode to her and our hydrangea bond.  One day this summer, my mom showed up at my house with a fern.  She had dug it up from her garden for me to transplant to mine.  She explained that this fern was a descendant from my grandmother's garden and she had given its relative to my mother years before. But the ferns in my grandmother's garden originally came from Vermont, where my grandfather dug one up while on a family vacation back in the 1960's.  A multi-generational fern with some history.  Sadly, my grandfather died before I was born and this very day was the 45th anniversary of his death.  My mom said she hoped I would find a good place for it.  And I did, right next to Annabelle.