Gardening

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Nature is a Balm

As the winter solstice approached earlier this week, I mentally composed a blog post, yet here it is, Christmas Eve and I’m just sitting down to write. December has been a time warp, bending to life’s whim and disregarding my preference for a calm and ordered season.

Nature is a balm, a lovely escape from the daily grind, a place to be in mind, body, and soul when all you have to do is step outside. Migrating birds are passing through, singing in the now-barren trees. I can’t help but look up, pause, and enjoy the chatter. The squirrels are active along the fences, dropping into the garden and scratching at the earth to bury their stash. Anna’s hummingbirds stay year-round and are chasing each other away from one of the feeders as I write this post.

I startled this little critter in the compost bin.

We had a few days of rain this week, clearing away the trapped valley smog and refreshing the air while providing moisture for the garden.

To my amazement, an unseasonable sunflower crop thrives even after a few days of frost. The plants are seven feet tall, with one promising to flower by Christmas. I’ve never grown sunflowers in winter and assumed the seeds dropped by the summer crop or planted by the squirrels would remain dormant till next spring. I’m always learning.

There are signs of life everywhere with the promise of a cheerful spring. I had naively been pulling up California poppies when they died back, but further reading advised cutting the plant back without disturbing the root system. I’m reaping the benefits of that advice with lacy green foliage throughout the front garden. My beloved hyacinth is sprouting, along with freesia and an unexpected single paperwhite Narcissus tazetta.

Our recent storm ended my leaf-raking for the year, which I will miss, believe it or not. That same storm invited weeds to sprout, and the violets are again trying to take over, so there will be plenty to keep me engaged.

I hope you have a lovely holiday season, a Merry Christmas, and all good things in the coming year.

A small gallery from two of my fairy miniature gardens:

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Misty Morning Musings

A misty morning fog settled over San Jose on Monday, a nice change of pace for this time of year and a gift to the otherwise dry garden. Autumn arrives in slow motion here in the Bay Area, so it’s strange to think that our winter solstice is just a few weeks away. The beautiful oranges, yellows, and reds of autumn are everywhere.

Mike has fully recovered from COVID-19 and is on a business trip again. Fortunately, his trip to Las Vegas is only three days long, just an hour away, and in the same time zone. I flew to Vegas with him Saturday morning, and our youngest son joined us for a 24-hour visit. We attended Cirque du Soleil, something we all enjoy, and a walk-through of the Conservatory & Botanical Gardens at the Bellagio Hotel.

“Each season, the enormously talented Horticulture and Engineering teams transform the 14,000-square-foot Botanical Gardens into a showcase of inspiring sights, sounds, scents and colors. Spring, Summer, Fall and Winter are all featured—along with a special display for Lunar New Year. When the seasons change so do the displays. The talented Conservatory team changes out the design and also replants and repurposes as much of the living plant material as possible, further celebrating Mother Nature and our commitment to sustainability.” –Bellagio Website

This year’s holiday theme is the Nutcracker. It opened the day before we arrived.

The designer creates a magical display with real trees, plants, and flowers. A model train ran through the brightly lit and inviting displays, and though crowded, I enjoyed the Christmas magic and time with my family. Las Vegas isn’t my scene, but it allowed us to be together.

We walked five miles on Saturday in between meals and the show. We had a strange incident at dinner, which put a damper on the meal, and we’re still unclear what happened. A few seconds after they served our meal, a security officer walked up to the side of our table and stood within a shoulder-tapping distance of my 23-year-old son. We expected the guard to say something, but he just stood there. A second security guard arrived, and we finally understood that they were “back up” for an incident playing out at a nearby table. Everyone fell silent, knowing something was amiss but not knowing what. My son overheard the security detail threaten a misdemeanor arrest if the party of four didn’t leave the restaurant. After some fanfare, they finally complied, but everyone felt unsettled.

I’m glad to be back home doing mundane things like raking leaves and laundry. Dorothy had it right; there is no place like home.

We’ve decked our Christmas tree with baubles from our travels, gifts from friends, and hand-made treasures from the boy’s grammar school years. New this season is a pair of marbled paper ornaments from our time in Florence and a funny cat decoration from my friend, Mary.

I bought branches of Christmas greenery from a nearby garden center and mixed in lavender from our garden, filling vases and glass jars for maximum effect. Soon, my family of four will be home. The nest is ready.

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A Bit of This and Oh No, Not That

I’ve been catching up on garden chores involving autumn pruning, raking, and winterizing the garden furniture. When I covered the patio table and chairs, Tessa got very excited. She thinks I assembled a fort just for her.

The curb garden is awash in color, thanks to an early autumn planting just before we left for Italy. One oddity is a new crop of sunflower plants. I had hoped the squirrels would bury the seeds for a summer crop. I never dreamed that the sunflowers would produce a crop this time of year.

Cheerful pink cosmos continue to bloom and should last till the first frost. Lucky me! I thought they would’ve been spent by now. The tomato plant in the garden’s center is still producing, but the late-season produce lacks the sweet flavor of summer. Sweet peas have sent out lots of green shoots, and the freesia have multiplied once again. My first successfully grown zinnia is a day-brightener.

It’s nice to have the bees stop by the salvia and lavender. I cut sprigs of the scented herbs for the house. They do well in water and can be left to dry in place, equally fragrant and shapely.

I’ve added some seasonal color this year, planting red and white cyclamen along the garden near the sidewalk. Cyclamen were among my mum’s favorites.

I also have a few more to get in the ground in the back garden, including two richly colored pink varieties. I ran out of daylight, then it rained. We need every drop, so there are no complaints here. It’s cool enough now that the roots should remain moist until I get them into the ground. I need a bit of energy to complete this simple task and the willpower to stay away from the garden center for the balance of the year. It’s time for the garden and the gardener to rest.

I’m happy to have Mike home from his long business trip through South America. Unfortunately, he came home with COVID. We were both vaccinated last month, so he felt sure it was a bad cold. As he felt worse, he finally tested Sunday night. We’re sleeping in separate rooms now, wearing masks, etc. I remain healthy, and I dearly hope I stay this way.

We were due to host six for Thanksgiving this Thursday, so sadly, we’ve had to let that go. I have a case of the blues. Realizing that my oldest son would be home alone on Thursday hasn’t helped. I’ve decided to prepare a small meal of favorites for three, and two of us will eat outdoors while Mike joins from the house. The weather experts predict warm and dry, so it should be okay. My youngest son is celebrating with friends in Southern California, and my sister prefers staying put.


Holidays arrive loaded with memories and expectations that often fall short. Social media amplifies and distorts. I look forward to what Katrina Kenison calls “the gift of an ordinary day.”

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ScrapHappy for Someone Else’s Scraps

My friend Mary Ann is a cardmaker, among other things. She sells her wares on Etsy and at several craft shows near the holidays. As such, people give her “stuff,” hoping she can use it.

Lucky me.

Someone gave her this stack of parchment-like paper with a rectangle of gold foil in the center. She, in turn, passed them on to me. There are over 70 lustrous sheets, and I could hardly wait to tuck into them! Today’s scraphappy post is brought to you by a friend’s, friend’s scraps.

I made three cards covering Halloween, Christmas, and Autumn.

I used one of the foiled sheets as a background, then used my die cutter to cut the leafy inset. The rest of the card is done with ink.

The Christmas tree incorporates the gold center and part of the parchment for the trunk. The green scrap below has been kicking around in my supply drawer for years. I’m glad the paper found its purpose.

The last card has a simple design and as such it’s my favorite. All of these cards were fun to create, though.

I also made a gift card holder using a small envelope template I’ve had for years.

Thank you, Mary Ann!

If you’re a scrappy maker (paper, fabric, metal, etc.), consider joining us for this enjoyable endeavor.

Thanks as always, Kate. Please follow the links below if you would like to see what the other makers are up to.
Kate, Gun, Eva, Sue, Lynda,

Birthe, Turid, Susan, Cathy, Tracy,

Jan, Moira,Sandra, Chris,

Claire, Jean, Jon, Dawn, Gwen,

Sunny, Kjerstin, Sue L, Vera, Edith

Ann, Dawn 2, Carol, Preeti,

Debbierose, Nóilin, Viv, Karrin,

Amo, Alis

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Miseries and Mysteries and Mourning on Hold

It’s been a surreal and emotional few weeks as we work through the complexities in the aftermath of my brother-in-law’s death.

The coroner completed a preliminary autopsy, but it will be at least a month before the tox reports are in. They issued a death certificate with the cause of death pending and released JJ’s remains to the Neptune Society for cremation. Mike’s greatest fear is that his brother suffered a lingering death. For now, we have to live with the unknown.

Also unknown is the mystery surrounding JJ’s car. We learned from the apartment manager that when the police and medical examiner arrived, a man she didn’t know tried repeatedly to gain entry into the apartment. The following day, someone disregarded the “Warning – Official Seal” placed by the coroner and entered the apartment. The car and my brother-in-law’s phone and laptop went missing that day.

Mike contacted the DMV and the Sacramento Sheriff’s Department to open an investigation into the potential theft. We pondered different scenarios: Did he sell the car to this man? The car is only a year old. Why would he sell the car, his only form of transportation, and why would the guy try to register the car a week after JJ’s death? We wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, but things didn’t add up.

The car later resurfaced at the apartment complex, and the sheriff came and impounded the car at a tow lot. Mike had to prepare documents so we could claim the car (about 100 miles from where we live). Before he could do that, the man who took possession of the car the first time went to the tow yard, presented his newly minted car registration, and drove the car off the lot, telling the tow yard that he planned to sell the vehicle. We couldn’t believe it.

Meanwhile, a special carrier delivered JJ’s ashes to our home. The driver showed great compassion as she handed us the cremains and asked for Mike’s signature. We had a somber moment at the end of our driveway as we thanked her and carried the box into the house. My chest tightens just thinking about it.

More mischief ensued. The bank told us that fraudulent checks had been written against JJ’s account amounting to nearly $20,000. The perpetrators wrote four checks to three individuals after his death. The bank reversed three checks, and the fourth didn’t pass through due to insufficient funds. I guess they planned to keep withdrawing as long as they could.

We heard from the sheriff again. They found the car in a public lot. They asked the driver to remove his effects and towed it for a second time to the impound lot. This time, the car was marked as stolen.

On November 3rd, we took the train to Sacramento and hired an Uber to drive us to the tow yard. We had four hours to collect the car, go to the coroner for JJ’s personal effects, go to the local post office to complete a change of address, and finally meet the apartment manager. She has been kind and helpful through it all, so we wanted to meet her in person and bring her a gift of thanks. She greeted us both with a warm hug, the highlight of an otherwise depressing trip.

When we picked up the car, we were dismayed at the horrible smell reminiscent of the apartment. We hoped to have it professionally cleaned but didn’t have time. From there, we drove to the coroner’s office to collect the items on my brother-in-law’s person at the time of death. The coroner is open to the public for just three hours a day. Receiving the contents was another emotional blow for Mike. He had hoped for a wallet with personal items and photos, perhaps a glimpse into his brother’s recent life. Instead, they handed him a small plastic bag with a driver’s license and two bank cards. Further, JJ looked unwell in his license photo, resulting in more sadness and more grief.

With that time-sensitive detail out of the way, we did a quick tidy of the car, still parked in the coroner’s lot. We filled a bag with trash and unwanted items, wiped the seats and cleared out old cigarette residue so that our long drive home would be bearable.

At 4:30 we made our last stop at the local post office and grabbed a quick bite before returning to San Jose. Mike flew to South America for a two-week business trip a day later, weary but grateful that we accomplished so much.

I’m looking forward to Mike’s return on Saturday, followed a few days later by Thanksgiving and a four-day holiday weekend. It will be a welcome change of pace and the chance to shower him with lots of TLC. Then, perhaps, the tears will flow.

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The Perfect Pumpkin

Isn’t it beautiful?

My friend Elizabeth took up glass-blowing as a hobby 13 years ago. She knows I love pumpkins, so she offered to make one for my birthday. I’m in awe of her talents, and I’m equally smitten with this pumpkin.

Elizabeth continues to perfect her skills in blowing glass and flameworking at Bay Area Glass Institute in San Jose. “BAGI’s mission is to provide accessible, hands-on glass experiences that educate and inspire current and future generations of patrons, students, artists, and our community.” Source BAGI website

BAGI earns revenue from classes and events through grants, funding from the City of San Jose, other arts and science organizations, and patrons who donate annually.

Here’s a parting shot.

Happy Halloween

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Multiplying Grief

We arrived home from Italy on a Friday early this month. Five days later, the Sacramento coroner called to tell Mike his youngest brother JJ had been found dead in his apartment. We hadn’t seen him in years.

The brothers were bereft when Mike’s parents died weeks apart in 2008; however, JJ took it the hardest. At the time, he lived on the same property as his parents, managing a small vineyard and eating meals with his folks. He never fully launched, even though he was in his early forties.

After settling the affairs, he moved to Sacramento and cut off his entire family, including his brothers, cousins, nieces, and nephews. We collectively reached out over time, but he changed his email address and phone number and didn’t respond to physical mail. I had the local police do a welfare check in the early days, and they called and said he was okay.

Learning of his death last week has torn the bandage off a deep wound. Compounding the loss, we discovered he’d been living in squalor and warned many times to clean up his place or face eviction. He had sufficient financial means to buy his own place, yet chose a different path. His apartment manager was under the impression that he had no family, unaware of our attempts to make contact. We’re devastated.

Mike’s middle brother met us at the apartment on Saturday so we could collect paperwork, personal effects, and keys to JJ’s car, mailbox, and storage unit. The investigator sealed the apartment when he left on Tuesday, but someone let themselves in the following day and took my brother-in-law’s car, further complicating an already challenging situation. We had been warned of the apartment’s condition, so I bought protective gear in advance, including respirator masks, heavy-duty gloves, and shoe coverings. We had no way to prepare, however, for the smell.

I uncovered a dead rat in the first hour. More followed. The stench of spoiled food, rat urine, and cigar ash permeated every corner. Sadness and dismay, anger, and grief hung in the air. At one point, I kneeled on a plastic lid to gather coins that had fallen to the floor. A giant rat darted out from its cover, raced by my leg, and took refuge under a stack of crates.

Bone-weary and filthy, we retreated to a hotel and later a meal. It’s been a lot to process.

We returned home on Sunday, eating junk food for dinner in the car and taking another round of showers. Mike continues to be repulsed by the terrible stench that permeates everything, so I spent Monday airing out the paperwork we retrieved, placing framed pictures in a plastic bag, and taking the washed coins I gathered from the apartment floor to Coinstar, donating the proceeds to the Red Cross.

When I close my eyes, images of the apartment appear. I’m a professional organizer by trade, so I’ve seen this before; however, it’s another story when it’s family.

Meanwhile, we await the autopsy results. When finalized, the medical examiner will release JJ’s remains to the Neptune Society for cremation. A professional team emptied the apartment of debris, and the highway patrol will continue investigating the missing car.

JJ’s death leaves us with multiplying losses: what is and what might have been. Two brothers are devastated with profound grief and a sadness that won’t soon disappear.

JJ and Olga (my mother-in-law)1968 and 1995, Francini brothers and nephews, wedding party (JJ as best man), Thanksgiving, 2008.

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Mike Drinks Coffee in Italy: A Retrospective

My husband is passionate about his coffee. At home, he grinds the beans, froths the milk, and enjoys his cup with breakfast. He makes himself an espresso while working from home in the afternoon, but he never drinks coffee after 4.

Zurich airport

Except in Italy.

For the past two weeks, Mike “Sweetie” Francini has enjoyed his coffee fix from Venezia to Roma with Firenze in between. He’s had a cup at the Zurich airport and again in Roma. He consumed small cups of the brew on a train.

When his coffee arrived at the end of a meal or in the company of a luscious pastry, I started documenting the ceremonial downing of each hot brew.

I am a blogger, after all.*

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I learned (about ten minutes ago) that according to ellianos, Italy had its first taste of coffee in the 17th century when the “bustling port city of Venice became one of the first European hubs to import coffee beans from traders of the Ottoman Empire.”

In the late 19th century “Italy introduced espresso to the market. Espresso isn’t a specific type of Italian coffee. Rather, it’s an efficient and concentrated brewing method that can be used on any type of coffee bean. This new Italian method completely changed the way people enjoy coffee around the globe.”

*I prefer tea, which has been my hot beverage of choice my entire life. Dad hailed from England after all and my Nova Scotia-born mum drank instant black coffee. It wasn’t really a choice at all.

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We’re Okay

Laurie of Notes From the Hinterland reached out earlier today to be sure we were not involved in the tragic bus accident in Venice. Thank you for checking on us, Laurie.

A bus carrying tourists went off the side of the road near Venice, Italy, killing the driver and 21 tourists returning from a campsite. There were a number of injuries as well. Current speculation is that the driver suddenly became ill before losing control of the bus.

Life is fleeting. My heart goes out to all who lost a loved one.

Alys

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When in Rome

I found the perfect spot to share my age and birthday with a calendar at the Vatican Museum. Since we’re in Rome, I opted for Roman Numerals.


We started the day early with a quick breakfast and a Metro ride to Vatican City. We had tickets for a garden tour, so it was nice to get there before the heat descended.

The gardens show off English, French, and Italian styles, with a long history of donated trees, plants, and sculptures. The fountains are always refreshing, but my favorite is home to red-eared turtles, which we spotted swimming and sunning themselves.

Viewing the Sistine Chapel was the one let-down of the day. We jostled down several flights of stairs before being ushered in and pushed to the center of a room with shoulder-to-shoulder people. Guards kept yelling at us to clear the imaginary aisle of the room, moving us toward the center of a packed room. The limited time we had to try and enjoy and reflect on the magnificent art above felt fleeting. We stood together in that tightly packed, stuffy room, trying to appreciate the grandeur, but my instinct to flee took over, and we exited as quickly as possible.

Mike pictured in the Gallery of Geographic Maps. His father hailed from Rome, but immigrated to Argentina after the war.

Mike at the Vatican Museum
Ceiling in the Gallery of Maps

It took another twenty minutes to exit the museum; by then, it was close to three, and we were exhausted.

A quiet sit-down with cold drinks and a shared Margherita pizza steadied the ship. The metro ride back was equally packed, but for that short duration and the welcoming cool air, it all worked well.

We arrived at the hotel with the loveliest surprise: the staff left us a bottle of Prosecco, a pair of glasses, and the nice note below.

I want to share one last thing before we head out to enjoy my birthday dinner and our delicious Prosecco. We ate at the same cafe for lunch and dinner when we arrived in Rome. It’s a stone’s throw from our hotel, so it seemed easier than looking for something else. For the rest of the trip, we’ve tried different places daily. When we returned to our hotel last night, one of the servers recognized me and waved from across the street! Tonight, another server called out to us and waved. I can’t tell you how warm and welcoming it’s been.