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The L’il Bloggers welcome Elena Santangelo, Agatha-nominated author of the Pat Montella series, to our blog. I had the pleasure of getting to know Elena when I was still an active member of the Delaware Valley Sisters in Crime. Elena’s newest book is Poison to Purge Melancholy. Welcome to the blog, Elena! Judy
I’m sitting at my back door, looking out over my yard, ignoring the morning glory vines growing like kudzu over all my flowers. I never got the chance to do the weeding this year. Weeding is for people with good knees and mine stopped working properly last August. But from this perspective, the garden looks green at least, with a smattering of red roses and purple hydrangeas in bloom.
With my brother’s help, I managed to get vegetables planted this year. We’ve still got lettuce–we use old window screens to keep it shaded and it lasts a month longer. Last Saturday we picked a pound of green beans. Basil leaves are drying in trays on the dining room table. And we have little bell peppers and tomatoes which, God willin’, will grow into big juicy peppers and tomatoes. I haven’t done much hoeing between those rows either this year, but the weeds are mainly wild purslane. Taking a lesson from Henry David Thoreau and Gandhi, I’ve been eating it. Not much taste, but it’s a free salad green and rich in Omega-3 fatty acids.
About a month ago, the end cap of our back porch rain gutter fell off. Neither my Dad nor I can climb a ladder to put it back. Instead we began putting a 10 gallon pail beneath to catch the water, which I then use to water my veggies. Not only does it save my knees extra steps fetching water from the tap around the side of the house, the rain water’s better for my plants than treated city water. I’m planning to get a plastic trash can and some flexible tubing–see if I can make a rain barrel. Oh, sure, I could buy a real rain barrel and all the trimmings online, but that’s not the way my family does things.
We’ve been jury-riggers for generations. That’s how my parents and their siblings survived the Great Depression, with creativity and ingenuity, and the determination to find the good side of a bad situation. The secret, I’m learning, is not to have predetermined ideas about what my world should or should not include. Just take what I’m given–free salad greens, free rain water, whatever–and make what I can from it.
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Just what I expect from an industrious and enterprising woman such as you, Elena. Here’s hoping that one day we’ll be able to manage to cross the Pacific, one way or t’other and actually meet in person!
Sadly, most of my summer vegies did poorly this last summer…..we had savage water restrictions and garden watering for only 2 hours per week which just wasn’t enough to keep them flourishing, even with inches of mulch.
I had a diverter installed to use grey laundry and shower water on the garden which worked, but, of course, untreated, I couldn’t direct it to the vegies. However, the government is subsidising rainwater tanks for us all for next summer which will help ease the the effects of our 10 year drought. I’m also looking at making a small reed-bed which will recycle all household water. It will solve a lot of problems if I can pull it off.
I hope that this blog proves to be great fun for you.
by Anne
on August 5th, 2007 at 8:41 am
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No, no Elena. The objective is to control your environment. It’s the American way.
DB
by don
on August 5th, 2007 at 10:01 am
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Oh, it wasn’t until I left home that I realized that vegetables did push out of the earth in cans.
Actually, that’s not true My maternal grandparents (also survivors of depression) grew some of their own vegetables, but this didn’t seem to inspire any back to the earth enthusiasm from my parents. I, alas, am relentlessly indoorsy, but more power to you.
by Stephanie Patterson
on August 5th, 2007 at 10:10 am
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As I sit here in my apartment in The Bronx with just a concrete terrace to take the place of a true backyard, I am thinking that only Elena would make rain barrels out of broken gutters. I know that her backyard is not huge, yet she manages to produce produce, year after year, in a small garden that is, in part, taken up by a killer catcus named, aptly, Killer.
In like manner, Elena takes elements from the past and the present and somehow produces mysteries that are a joy to read. If you haven’t read one, you are in for a treat. She also manages to write satirical poetry, keep her friends in stitches and root for the Phillies (not an easy job). I am waiting to hear that she has learned to turn lead into gold.
So, Elena, who turns the worst into the best, I pronounce you Alchemist Extraordinaire. Enjoy the last green leaves of summer!
by Jean
on August 5th, 2007 at 7:45 pm
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Ah, gardens. This word is about to be stricken from all Brecksville, OH dictionaries, as directed by the
4-legged critters in the area.
We try to grow things….but loose each year to deer and others like chipmonks, squirrels, fox, ground hogs, etc.
But Casey does have a big punkin’ patch going strong….now if we can get through the growing season without loosing them to ground rot.
Z
by Zorro
on August 6th, 2007 at 10:47 am
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My grandmother had a wonderful summer garden of tomatoes, tender scallions, lettuce, parsley, and peppers. We picked our salad each evening when visiting Grandmom’s. I helped her can tomatoes for her wonderful Italian sauce for winter pasta meals. Thanks for the memories Elena. I enjoy your ability to infuse these simple yet rich actvities and traditions into your mysteries. — A.J.
by A.J. Monteverde
on August 7th, 2007 at 9:25 pm
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