Fleur-de-Words

My favorite morning greeting comes when I walk through the sheet metal shop on my way to the lunchroom refrigerator where I store my 1 p.m. meal.

Kutzown Ken greets me in Pennsylvania twang: “Morning Laurie” but what my garden-starved ears hear is “Mornin’ Glory”. And don’t we all wish our mornings were filled with morning glories—Grandpa Ott’s on the kitchen garden arbor and Heavenly Blue on the chicken fence.

Mystery Plant

Running through my brain are Paul Simon’s words:  “All lies and jests, still a man hears what he wants to hear and disregards the rest.” That sums up my workday.

Spring fever came early, and there are moments when I’m not sure I can make this adjustment to an office environment. Sure, it was ok in November, December, and January—but heavens, it’s spring! And I’m in a cave.

Sharon the receptionist not only faces the front glass door and a wall of windows, she has a skylight overhead. Not so in my portion of the building. When the sun breaks through the Central Pennsylvania clouds, the only way I know is when she sends me an email. Sharon also keeps watch on a computerized weather monitor and alerts the roofers to rainstorms or nasty winds heading toward their job sites. She’s a regular Mother Nature sitting up there with a big welcoming smile. Who? Me? Jealous?

My workplace buddy John, who has a windowless office near my windowless cave, teases me about my office light dimmer. There is a light switch near my computer that I flip on in the morning and off when I leave in the afternoon. But it took me several weeks to realize that there is also a little tab that can brighten or dim the light—well, actually, John told me about it when I was sitting in the semi-dark with the light switch on. So, when he found out about the sunshine emails from Sharon, he decided that was my cue to play Mother Nature. When Sharon emails a sun alert, I turn the dimmer switch up to full brightness; if I get notice that a thunderstorm is approaching, down goes the dimmer.

John is also my roofing terminology translator. It started when I heard him discussing crickets with one of the crews. 

“I know you’re not talking about Jiminy Cricket,” I said one morning, “but what’s a roof cricket? Certainly crickets can’t hop up on roofs.”

Close-Up

He patiently described a roof cricket (and there are actually “chimney crickets”—did Disney know that?), and how it is used to divert water. A few days later, the lesson was on “scuppers”. Scuppers are small openings in a roof railing that prevent water from pooling on the roof, channeling the rainwater through the railing and off the roof. Scupper. Don’t you just love the way the word tickles the roof of your mouth when you say it? I’d like to name a dog Scupper.

My farming ears really perked up one day when I heard the guys talking about a cow tongue drain. I had to see one of these. Well, a cow tongue drain outlet looks like a cow yawning after a big sip of water, big fleshy tongue hanging off its lower lip.

That’s not all. My Fleur-de-Lys French-ness got all excited when one of the estimators was writing a proposal for a “porte-cochere”—a carriage entrance leading through a building or wall to an inner courtyard.  Or, in this case, a drive-through entrance at a hotel.

But the perfect irony of workplace words hit me in a fit of scanning boredom.  In the quiet moments between my more arduous tasks of typing invoices or scribbling work orders for roof leaks, I scan the contents of the job folders for 2010 and 2011. If you’ve ever tried to slide staple-pried and dog-eared papers into a scanner that feeds the text, photos, and drawings magically into the computer, you know these are temperamental creatures. I sit there, sometimes hours on end, shoving documents into the feeder tray, anticipating the inevitable “Paper Jam” alert. Irritating at best…until I realized I used to spend my afternoons making strawberry preserves or elderblossom cordial. Now, I’ve graduated to paper jam. Yummy! Words do put a smile on my face. Laurie Lynch

A Little Help, Please: As I work in my Dad’s old gardens, I’m discovering brickwork I forgot about and an occasional plant I am not familiar with. Such is the case with the bold beauty pictured above. Can anyone help me out with an identification? It’s a daisy-like flower, blooming as I type, and 2.5- to 3-feet tall. Leaves are soft and fuzzy, and kind of arrow shaped.

Written on Slate: The difference between the right word and the almost right word is the difference between lightning and lightning bug.”  --Mark Twain

Fleur-de-Vintage

I love vintage clothes, vintage fabrics, vintage toys, and even vintage vintages. I once used the description “vintage vegetables” (as an alliterative substitute for heirloom vegetables) in a piece I wrote and a PASA fellow complimented me on my unusual word choice.  But when the computer geek at the Apple store said I had a “vintage iMac”, I knew this was not a good thing.

Yes, there are expiration dates on jars of mayo, peanut butter, and olives, and sadly most marriages don’t last a lifetime, but when a computer is going on its sixth birthday, is it time to call it quits?

In my case, it was. My iMac was stuck in perpetual sleep mode and resuscitation was doubtful.

Fritillaria imperialis (Crown Imperial)

I wasn’t ready for one of those flip-floppy tablet things, but I did want to go semi-mobile so I chose a laptop. The iTechies insisted they could transfer everything from my old computer onto the new, which they did. But, when I got home, I couldn’t open any documents. Long story short, after many sleepless nights, fruitless searching of boxes, and finally a software purchase, I now can get back to writing my 500 words a day—even if I have to bump everything up to 14-point just to read it on the screen. I didn’t anticipate that my fingertips would overhang the tiny keys, nor did I know how to massage the touchpad. Not expecting miracles from dear old Mom, my son Richard saved my mouse from its previous life and showed me that I can still use it when my laptop is sitting on a desktop, thus easing the transition.

Enough of all that. It’s time for catching up. Laurie Lynch

In Bloom: This handsome gent is a native of Iran, Afghanistan, and Pakistan, and produces a musky odor that repels mice, moles, and squirrels. As an extra bonus, even deer don't like to nibble on Fritillaria imperialis.

YoYo Yogurt: I got several emails and links about yogurt making and it looks as though there are probably a dozen different techniques and many of you are much more skilled at it than I. I’m going to stick with my heating pad method because it works for me. There’s a good solution out there for you.

One reader mentioned the book Wild Fermentation, which says to use no more than one tablespoon of starter per quart of milk. This keeps the yogurt culture from being crowded. I’m embarrassed to say that I own that book—and didn’t even think to use it as a guide—because a certain son of mine is interested in other fermentation processes and had hijacked the book to his dorm room!  Wild Fermentation also suggests making yogurt in an insulated cooler and references The Joy of Cooking.

Karen makes her yogurt directly in the crockpot, so my too-hot hypothesis was not cool at all. She sent along two links with methods she has tried and found successful:

http://crockpot365.blogspot.com/2008/10/you-can-make-yogurt-in-your-crockpot.html

http://girlsguidetobutter.com/2010/02/crock-pot-yogurt/

HARING HEART:  I got another email from Al Haring about his son Keith’s heart art on the cover of Architectural Digest; “We had not been aware of the heart that Brooke (Shields) has hanging above the mantle (nor the wrapping paper) and were surprised to see it.”

He sent along the following link that has a slide show listing all of the places in New York where Keith Harings can be found, for all of us armchair art gallery goers!

galleristny.com/2012/03/haring…

Beds just waiting to be planting with F-d-L seedlings.

Fleur-de-Central: The mild winter blending into an early spring means we’ve got lots of new gardening projects going on. Seeds I saved from my favorite F-d-L vintage tomatoes germinated (will I ever stop planting triple what I need just in case there is major seedling failure?)

I’m renovating my Dad’s old raised-bed gardens and wrapping them in fencing to keep the groundhogs and rabbits out. I’ve decided to turn a planter on my Mom’s deck into an herb garden. Fresh herbs will be an arm’s length away when we dine outside. And, the garlic I harvested last summer at Fleur-de-Lys and planted in State College in the fall looks fabulous!