It's hard to remember that trees are mortal, too

My 4-story gum bumelia had to be removed this week. After half of it broke off in wind storms and another 1/4 was hacked by the power company, it was time for me to say good-bye.

I had a couple pet names for that tree: the Dr. Seuss tree, the squirrel tree, the tree-that's-going-to-fall-and-take-the-transformer-with-it tree, etc.

It costs a lot of money to have a tree removed. On top of that, I hate to see tall trees go, especially when wildlife enjoys it so much! A squirrel family of five was living out of one of the pockets in the tree last year. Of course, the tree wasn't that wide around, so I had to suspect that if 5 squirrels could fit in one hole (and actually climb through the tree out a hole on the other side!) then there probably wasn't much holding this tree up besides my hopes and prayers.

So, I decided the other day to be proactive and remove it.

Oddly enough. Now that it's gone I don't feel the sense of relief or good judgment that I thought I would. I just see a very smooth, 20-inch diameter wood platter where a 4-story squirrel motel once stood. The non-interrupted flow of energy in the yard feels disquieting.

I also think the grass is going to fry this summer with no shade.

I don't know if it's too late to plant a tree for the season, but I'm going to look this weekend for a future replacement. Now that I don't have to worry about a new tree getting squashed by falling timber, I want to start growing a new squirrel motel as soon as possible.

I grew lovely broccoli flowers....

Somehow, I missed the cue that said "Pick the broccoli and eat it" and so I just have these lovely yellow flowers for a winter's worth of watering.

I've got to do a little more research on broccoli. In the meantime, I think I'll start some carrots...

I pride myself on knowing what my readers want.

You want to know what Johanna and I had for dinner last night.

Answer: turkey stroganoff with a side of cauliflower. But not just any cauliflower. Last week, Johanna's CSA provided us with a head of purple cauliflower.


How does one cook up purple cauliflower? We had no idea. We decided to try the old South Beach Diet recipe for fake mashed potatoes, which uses cauliflower, to create purple fake mashed potatoes.

We had no idea how it would turn out: is the cauliflower purple on the inside, or was it just spray-painted by a farmer?

Turns out it was purple through-and-through, as evidenced by how the steaming liquid ended up:

And here's how our meal looked in the end:


Bon Appetit!