Cleverlotus Design

Come August there isn’t a whole lot to do. Its too early to start moving plants around, too late to start anything new in the garden (except some lettuces and radishes I put in to fill some empty beds), too mosquito-y to do much in the morning and too hot to work in the day! So I have just been enjoying – watching the dahlias emerge and the cosmos start poking through the zinnias, nibbling on cherry tomatoes as they ripen and cooking up an endless supply of eggplants and shishito peppers.  This year I was testing out combining flowers and vegetables in the beds – nasturtium, calendula, French marigolds. Sometimes they worked well, giving splashes of orange and yellow next to the dark purplish stems of the eggplants or chard, and other times they swamped out the vegetables. The beds aren’t terribly big and I think it would work really well if I had a bit more space. Nonetheless it was a good way to integrate the vegetable garden with the surrounding perennial garden and herb border. The cucumbers which I had hoped would take off didn’t quite, I think because of the drought mid July. This year though, I put scarlet runners on either end and between that and a grape that is winding its way up made for a nice mix of texture and colour.

One of my favourite parts about having a vegetable garden -apart from its dinner time inspiration- is its flexibility and forgiveness. Year by year I try out new things – ways of combining plants, different varieties, different locations in the garden. Sometimes there are disappointments (like I will never grow edamame or okra again. Remember the year I produced one pod per plant?! ) but other times complete delight – like the silkiness of cutting into a fresh butternut squash. I suppose if I really knew what I was doing I would have it all down pat, but I don’t and not knowing is part of the fun. I do make notes – which I sometimes reread -and I suppose accumulated knowledge through trial and error accounts for much of what I do but I always feel like I am starting at square one when I see that garden turned under in early spring.  Humbling and at the same time hopeful. And I suppose that is what gardening, and by extension Nature,  is constantly reminding us about.  But before I start to wonder what I will grow next year I  better just sit back and enjoy the flowers and vegetables doing their very best today.

It has been raining non-stop which while good for the plants has them also running amok and untamed. A few that have struggled along -kirengeshoma and the phloxes – are looking as they should finally but it has been a challenge to get the vegetable garden going. Here is a view of the small pond we have in the backyard. The frogs and toads have been enjoying the steady rain, and there are now a thousand little black tadpoles swarming the edges. And in one of the rare sunny breaks in the clouds I managed to get the cucumber structure up, an annual event using the same set of bamboo poles I have used for many years now. This year though added to my usually Suyo Long variety from Kitazawa Seed company – a great source for many Asian vegetables- , a Sastuki Madori variety from Seeds of Change. Will keep you posted on how they turn out!

I knew I should have turned the garden on the weekend! Instead, here on Monday morning the snow fell fast and wet all about, and the squill, crocuses, bloodroot, hellebores and early tulips in the garden were wondering like everyone else, what happened to spring? Still, it isn’t freezing and the melted snow will be good for the ground. Meanwhile, in the basement my seedlings think its spring. I thought it would take a week or so for them to come up, instead some of them busted out overnight. Black eel zucchini, rainbow chard, Italianheirloom kale, Japanese eggplant and kabura, sweet basil.  This is the first batch of seedlings with more varieties and flowers to follow. But as you can see, until the snow melts and the boxes get turned, my plans will have to stay just that – dreams of a warmer day.

Here is a photo from this past weekend’s book launch and reading of The Joyful Child at Cafe Shaika in Montreal. While the snow started to come down late afternoon many people still came out for the event held at this airy corner cafe in the NDG neighbourhood.  Norman Ravvin read a few passages from it, the part where the father and his young son practice their goodbyes at two points on their journey across the country.  People listened attentively, and for a moment the many children in the audience were still.  The book is printed by Gasperau Press and has a lovely handmade quality. The cover  is letterpress printed so it has weight in the hand, and the images of branches and crow wrap around it like a package.  Open it up and on the inside there is another crow,  like a secret message of what is to come.

After many years in the works, I am happy to say that Norman Ravvin’s new novel, The Joyful Child, has just been published (Gasperau Press). I’m looking forward to see the illustrations I did for his writing in their final, intended form. Creating the ink drawings first, and then later a series of papercut illustrations, was a pleasure and a challenge.  This chance to look again with fresh eyes at the illustrations coincides with my recent move to a new studio space in my home, and with it the task of sorting through old drawings on paper, awkward experiments, good starts unrealized, and the occasional discovery of a work I wouldn’t mind leaving unburied.   Many of the works come from my time spent in China, and before that the years I spent in Montreal. It was a different city then, as I am different now. Next month I’ll be back again -after nearly twenty years away- for the launch of Norm’s book at a neighbourhood café. And for this, I am happy to have the illustrations and the city come out of my memory and back into my life.