Lemons

We've all heard it for years. "When life gives you lemons..."

Point taken. Don't let "sour" circumstances dictate a sour life. Respond to the situation in a positive and creative way.

But I like lemons. Not only is fresh lemonade a great treat, but there is lemon pie (I like the two-crust pie made with slices of fresh lemon as opposed to the standard meringue-topped varitey), lemon bars (my mom makes the best ones) and slices of lemon stuffed into the clean belly of a trout or salmon. The citrus bite of the lemon adds freshness to all manor of dishes from appetizers to desserts, sweets to savory dishes. Such a versatile fruit. It is a shame it has been forced to bear the stigma of all that is negative in life.

When I think of lemons, I immediately think of my mom. She lives in a neighborhood that was a lemon grove in a previous lifetime. Thankfully, some of the trees were preserved and they bear bright yellow fruit throughout the year. We take daily walks and I love that I can "shop" for part of our menu without ever going to the store.

The photo above shows the most recent member of my garden: a Meyer lemon. I didn't know until recently that lemons could be grown here in Oregon, but once I learned that great news I immediately found a nearby nursery that stocked them. I will have to protect it when temps drop to 30 degrees or below, but I don't mind putting in that effort to be rewarded with stunning yellow fruits in their season.

So, life didn't give me lemons today. I actually sought them out and paid handsomely for them! With all the yumminess inherent in lemons, maybe we should work to change that old saying. How about, "When life gives you Brussels sprouts...?"

Hidden Problems

I don't spend much time in my detached garage during the winter. I drive the car in and out nearly every day, but seldom remain. Cold, damp, dark... nothing inviting there. I'd like to have the money to insulate and sheet rock the place so I can use it as studio space even during the cold months, but for now I avoid it.

A few months ago, I needed to get something from the garage (I can't remember what) and found a surprise. While I had avoided what I considered an inhospitable place, local field mice considered it a haven! Little black specks were everywhere! I also found one of the mainstays of their party - a good sized bag of grass seed had been chewed open for the enjoyment of all, empty hulls strewn about hinting at the pleasantries of my little invaders. Ah, my own fault for leaving such an attractive nuisance.

But then, they crossed the line. They messed with my art supplies! I had scored a box of small dried gourds at a sale and looked forward to the day I would carve and paint them. Peering into the box, however, I found the mice had decided to do some carving of their own. About half the gourds had rough little holes chewed in the sides. The seeds were eaten. The seed skins and the loose fibers inside the gourds had been shredded and fluffed into luxurious bedding. I wondered how many teeny weeny rodents started life in my gourds.

I had to throw out the ones that were ruined. I kept the whole ones because I'd be washing them with bleach before I worked on them anyway. If only I had known, I could have prevented the damage and loss in my garage.

As I looked at that picture again today, I couldn't help but think of my grandkids. If only I had seen, if only I had known... I could have prevented the damage and loss they have experienced. It happened in secret and hiding, but if I had only opened the door and turned on the light instead of popping in and out quickly. I know I'm not to blame. I don't feel guilty, just remorseful. I will have to always pay closer attention in the future.