Fall raged on in full force as it became apparent that it was going to be a wet "Wet" season. (California has two seasons: Wet and Dry. Often the temperature changes as well, but this is not necessary for the seasons to change.) November and December gathered together five inches of rain; considering a year ago it was not even half that, we knew the soil and reservoirs would be glad to have the moisture this year. The gardens at Quail Cottage were harvested, groomed, and shuttered; the greencycle bin was filled with tomato monster shells and withered squash vines. A few last-minute projects hindered us as we tried to bed down the Cottage for the holiday season. Our friends had a new baby a short distance away, so we played the good neighbor and brought dinner; and John's choir held its last concert of the year, which being a 40th anniversary year, included the purchasing (and storing) of twenty-four dozen customized champagne glasses. Additionally, with another friend, we traveled down to Hollister to make one of our favorite winery's release party. John's poor Honda was riding low with more than thirty liters of wine in the trunk on the way home (yes, we say "liters" on purpose to make you think!). All in all, December ended with a full garage, a busy schedule, and a lonesome farewell as we parted ways for the holidays, knowing what was to come.
Shortly after the New Year, Autumn left the Cottage for a long period abroad. She had successfully applied to an Ambassador program at work, which consisted of a three month stay in Dublin, Ireland. Although the experience was thrilling, it left the Cottage with half a heart, half the warmth, and less than half the energy. An electric blanket staved off the cold from the bed, but did not share any bedtime stories (especially after it stopped working a few weeks after being purchased). While the gardens slept, January saw John keeping busy with choir events, bartender classes with a close friend, and estate garden building at another friend's new house. February consisted of more choir, work, losing himself in Minecraft, and a four day weekend jaunt to Dublin (yes, it DID happen to be over Valentine's Day). And finally, March was coldest at the Cottage as the heat was turned off for an extended trip deep into the Irish heartland. Only in late March did life gather agin; the Cottage was opened, the gardens tilled, seeds (infamously) bought and planted, and the garage was (barely) cleaned out for a triumphant return of Our Favorite Season.
We quickly sprung back into life in California, hosting crafting parties, dinners with the parents of a not-so-newborn-anymore (they change so much in three months!), and celebrating the three-month-earlier graduation of John and Eric from their bartender's course with a cocktail party, which included some extremely tasty non-alcoholic drinks for some non-drinking friends; ginger beer, lime juice, sweet&sour, almond extract, and agave... a superbly delicious beverage! Throughout the spring rain, we continued reviving the gardens. After Autumn retrieved a wonderful helping of dark, rich organic compost from the bin, John finished tilling the beds and planted the last of the seeds; shortly before heading out to Ireland, he had purchased a number of varieties of vegetables from Seeds Of Change. Enticed by bulk pricing, we found ourselves sharing seeds with friends, neighbors, coworkers, acquaintances, strangers on the street, etc ...
As photos document, nearly all seeds have sprouted by now. After helping Jesse with his new home, John pieced together a redwood potter's bench; a self-described masterpiece! Standing at a good height, the bench bore good sunlight to a large number of tomato seedlings, which with a miniature hothouse and heating pad sprouted well. Several varieties of beans are up on the top bed in the back, behind where the tomato monsters usually resprout every season. Green onions and leeks will hopefully provide a quick harvest before the tomatoes get too big. In the bottom bed, the chard has never faltered, and actually regrown surprisingly with the spring sun and fresh waterings; who knew chard in California was a perennial? In the house-side bed, sugar pumpkins have sprouted, although the melons and squash have not as much; we remain optimistic for higher temperatures later in the spring.
Two new half wine barrels dot the side patio, which now contains an abundance of green and red lettuce, three types of carrots, red and golden beets, basil and parsley, and the remaining trees and herbs from years gone by. One last wine barrel was planted with lemon cucumbers and leeks as a backup harvest to those in the back yard. (Autumn loves her tangy lemon cucumbers and we didn't want to go without! ) The nectarine tree has baby nectarines (which *will* be thinned this year, we can learn from our mistakes!), and both apple trees are flowering, although it's questionable how much the pollinator née paint brush will work. The potter's bench contains a multitude of pots, many tomato seedlings, but also include some peas and beans (hoping to climb the walls), greek basil (which smells divine when you shove your face into it), and other experimental projects (an apricot from seed, an old rosemary bonsai, and some bamboo). Almost every variety of seed purchased was planted; now we just have to make sure we have room for them all to get into the ground!
Passover, Easter, concerts and plays all came and went, yet through them all one theme remained, which was summed up one relaxed morning over a classic "poached eggs on homemade english muffin with garlic mustard, fresh basil and tomatoes" Sunday brunch under the umbrella on a sunny patio: it's good to be home. Travel is exciting, but so is creating a home to live in. Finding new places to explore can be educational and inspirational; yet nothing can match the feeling of waking up to a day with no responsibilities, in a place completely familiar, with your favorite person staring back at you. Contentness is contagious. With Autumn gone again for a quick week in New York City, a reminder of what's missing is enough to bring back the pensive remembrance of earlier travels, but thankfully gives a week to sort photos at work, sing in a choir concert, fight the invading slugs in the garden beds, or type up a post to the Quail Cottage annals. A full bottle of Cave in the fridge awaits being split, always ready to welcome Autumn home again, wherever she may end up. Cheers to traveling to exotic locations... if only to allow ourselves to come home with exotic stories!