Spring...Discounting the recent late snow, hail, and freezing temperatures, spring has sprung in Oregon. Color appears in our gardens like magic, bare twigs burst forth with new life, and winter weary eyes brighten at the sight of something worth seeing where so recently there were only various shades of gray and brown. I know that its still too early for iris to be flowering but my recent transplanting adventures have made me start thinking about all the wonderful iris currently on the market. My own yard had only the basics-- deep purple, light purple, blue, and an occasional white but the world of iris has much more to offer for those people willing to spend a little in search of a lot. All of the iris I grew had been given to me free of charge by other gardeners with starts to spare, and whether its because they kept the more stunning forms for themselves or perhaps because the more unusual types don't reproduce quite so readily, I can't say. I tend to think that the fancy plants do spread just as well, since unlike people plants have no notion of their own startling good looks and therefore don't act the part of the diva as a result. Just a few minutes spent drooling at an online iris vendor will probably leave you the same as it left me--craving, planning, desiring, and designing...

Bi-color Dreaming of Rio is stunning. Imagine Act Of Kindness interplanted with Agastache rupestris if a succession blooming of those soft tones make you swoon...Picture late flowering flame parrot tulips paired with Anvil Of Darkness in a combo to make even Darth Vader garden with glee...I know my mother is craving something along the lines of Apollodorus which would make beautiful music matched with Cajun Rhythm. I fell in love with Cloud Ballet with its dreamy tones just crying out to be painted in watercolor. Let's face it, there's not an ugly one in the bunch--just check out the total online catalog for yourself and then let your imagination run wild with the beautiful combinations your garden could hold this time next year. Happy planting!!

There are certain plants which are referred to as trash plants, or junk plants. Typically, these would be trees which are so weak wooded as to be almost certain to drop limbs or have their trunks break, or trees which are so aggressively spreading as to become invasive nuisances, whether they spread from seed or from running root. Some perennials are considered trash plants for the same reason-- mint comes to mind, or bishop's weed. The thing is, just because they're aggressive doesn't mean they're unattractive, or totally useless. There are planting conditions so harsh that only the toughest and most determined of plants can make a go of it, and in those cases these never-say-die plants can be your only alternative to vast expanses of bark dust or gravel. Part of the beauty of these plants is knowing that if you have any at all, you'll soon have as much as you could ever want and then some. There's also that weird phenomenon where changing location changes performance. In my old yard in Portland the same tiny patch of Vinca minor has been struggling for over five years to fill out an area roughly two square feet. In my mother's yard, where the soil can justifiably be called toxic, vinca runs rampant, swallowing every bit of ground, concrete, and other plants it can get its runners around. Left to its own devices, I have no doubt it would be willing and able to eat her house. My mother's yard also sustains a prolific population of sweet violets which I know many people consider an invasive nuisance. Personally, I defy any gardener to stand near thousands of these tiny gems in bloom, smell the delicate perfume on a spring breeze, and still label them unwanted but the fact is they do spread prolifically, both from runner and from seed. I rescued multiple patches from my old yard, but they were all the common dark purple. My mother's violets, after decades of cross-pollinating, range anywhere from deepest royal purple to pure white, with stops off at pale lavender, and some streaked with multiple shades of everything in the purple family. I made a trade with her for some starts from my old yard, and now have all three colors establishing on a berm in the Fancy yard. I didn't need to take many plants from her colonies, because next year I'll have easily twice as much as I do today. I took her some Bergenia from my old yard too, simply because you can't kill it, it grows anywhere, never asks for extra care, and happily moves from spot to spot without a single complaint. Common and spreading it may be, but it makes up for so much simply by being so easy to get along with. I also took mom a vast amount of German bearded iris from my old yard, a plant she'd been craving to create the water feature friendly look she has in mind for her after-renovation yard style. German iris are stunning in flower, pleasantly architectural in foliage, uncomplaining and prolific in performance, hence typically much sneered at and then thrown away by most gardeners when after a few years in the ground, a dividing session results in two hundred new plants from a starting point of twenty. Like they say, nice guys finish last and just like people, being too easy to deal with results in being tossed to the curb instead of appreciated as deserved. The same gardeners who struggle and fret over their sulking Meconopsis will heave out their iris divisions without a thought, just to clear a bit more space for some other petulant garden drama queen.

I couldn't help thinking about it, on my last drive to The Dalles. If I were to be a terrible accident, and the trunk of my car flew open, hurling the contents out onto the highway, what look would appear on the face of folks driving by? Mounds of iris, violets, and bergenia heaped on the roadway in prolific piles, ready to take root right there in the middle of I-84 if given only a few inches of soil and some rainfall, and everyone turning their noses up in disgust at the junk in my trunk...

If you are a serious reader, there is almost always a genre of first choice. A few serious readers, like my sister, somehow manage to chew on a little bit of everything to keep their reading diet balanced, but most people I know don't bother to be so equal about it. My daughter reads at the speed of light, primarily science fiction/fantasy with some (gulp) horror mixed in. Her boyfriend Jason reads ancient history texts, with some modern fiction and sci-fi for seasoning. My mother reads Pacific Northwest history with (shriek!)a little politics on top. I read fantasy as a first choice, sci-fi, modern fiction, health and nutrition, some Regency romance (shut up!) and lately, a lot of mysteries. My friend Janet reads almost exclusively mysteries and will turn her nose up at anything she suspects may have sorcery, swords, dragons, talking beasts of any kind, shapechanging, elves or Immortal Lords Of Ultimate Evil. In fact, her scorn is so pronounced that my usual reading matter causes her to look at me as though she caught me listening to Milli Vanilli or something comparably inexcusable. Sheesh!

I have nothing against a good mystery but they seem to be a bit...hard to find. Since its been a while since my last book review it seemed time to take a long look at some of the books I've read lately, and offer up for your consideration my thoughts on what makes a good mystery. Janet took me to an all-mystery book store recently and I noticed that she spent all of her time with her face glued to the shelf labeled "Hard-Boiled Detectives" I refrained from reminding her we were there to look for entertainment, not breakfast, and found myself drawn instead to an area which featured all-female protagonists, which were then further divided into "serious" and "light" categories. I have found that I enjoy a mystery more when I can relate to the female lead character...Does that mean Janet sees herself more as Humphrey Bogart? Gak!! The only obvious exception to this has been Dick Francis who writes male main characters of such appeal that the readers tends to relate to them almost instantly despite gender. That being the case I would recommend his books to anyone, and was pleased to find that Janet likes them also.

The first set of themed mysteries I ever read were by an author named Diane Mott Davidson. The story line follows the life and career of a woman named Goldy, who works as a caterer in Colorado, cooking up yummy meals and solving murders at the same time. The series is up to 14 books now, and my personal opinion is that it started out strong and grew progressively less appealing as time went on. The character of Goldy is still likeable but her son, Arch, initially a young boy scarred by his parent's divorce and his father's physically abusive nature, matures into a spoiled rotten, unbearable teenager and my desire to shake some sense into the kid instead of indulging his every whim and whine made me have to grit my teeth to get through the later books. Goldy's habit of tackling every problem with extreme caffeine still works for me, but her trait of always losing her balance and literally falling into clues gets old. Somewhere along the line the decision was made to take all the recipes and stuff them into the back of the book instead of having them appear mixed through the story as she cooks them. Part of the charm of these books was being able to read the recipes and imagine creating the dish as it makes its entrance into the story, and that tiny thrill is gone now. I've also recently read The Hannah Swenson series by Joanne Fluke. The main character here is a woman in small-town Minnesota who runs a cookie bakery while simultaneously solving murders. This series has some real problems with repetition, perhaps made more obvious when the books are read back to back instead of one each year as they're published. The recipes are mixed in with the story, which I like. The problem is that the character has maybe five main behaviors and Fluke hammers us with those over and over again instead of trying out new ideas--Hannah can shower and dress in under ten minutes, Hannah feeds her cat twenty times per day, Hannah fends off her marriage-fixated nagging mother every morning. Hannah unplugs her truck from a heater, she feeds everyone chocolate every chance she gets, she finds cutesy ways to convince her cop-boyfriend she's not really prying into things that are none of her business. It got to the point that I could have written the character myself, she was so predictable. That aside, a lot of the recipes sound great. Switching from food to drink, I also tried out the Tea Shop Mysteries by Laura Childs. This series is likable, with a main character who runs a tea room, and solves murders on the side. Theodosia is a little too perfect, but the series really gives the reader a wonderful sense of Charlestown, S.C. and it's history--well enough written that it makes a trip there sound like a great vacation plan. Theodosia has a dog instead of a cat, which is a nice change, but she falls into the too-common trap of the Painfully Helpful Sidekick. All three of the women just mentioned have an employee/friend who is just too perfect to be true. These employees without fail love their jobs beyond reason, seeming to exist for no other reason than to show up early, stay late, fill in, volunteer and support their employers while the amateur sleuths strut their stuff. I can see the literary necessity for such a character, otherwise real life would demand that Goldy, Hannah and Theodosia actually do a decent day's work to keep themselves solvent. The problem I have with it is all these secondary characters never display the slightest sign of resentment, frustration, ambition or any realistic responses to always having the scutwork dumped on them while their employers get wreathed in glory. A smidgeon of reality, please, anyone??? In search of a little more reality, I switched over to gardening themed mysteries. This led me to the Nina Quinn series, in which the main character owns a business called "Taken By Suprise" which specializes in one-day yard makeovers for the financially solid homeowner. Nina shares a lot with the previously mentioned characters--romantic involvement with a cop, a spoiled rotten sister to interact with, a chihuahua to care for, and a crew of employees always jonny on the spot while she solves the random murder here and there. The fact that all her employees are ex-convicts is a nice twist, Nina being the passionate love interest of a huge black canine provides humor, and the accurate description of the gardening involved makes this series a light but pleasant read. The next horticulturally themed series throws pleasant right out the window in exchange for heavy-handed politically correct lecturing of the reader. The Peggy Lee Garden Mysteries start out with an interesting premise--a woman who runs a garden store, and teaches part-time at a local university while solving murders relating to plant poisons--I can be interested by that. Even when you add the cliches with a few variations--her rescue of a large dog to provide pet interest, her required police involvement, (this time a dead husband and grown son who are/were both cops) her sidekick employee with no life beyond work, I'm still reading. But authors Jim and Joyce Levine can't be happy with that. Instead they take main character Peggy and stand her on so many soap boxes, lecturing about animal abuse/neglect, environmental preservation, fossil fuel usage and the joy of alternate energy sources, etc...that eventually the reader is unsure whether they are perusing fiction/literature for enjoyment or some sort of pre-test manual on "How To Be A Decent World Citizen". We're asked to believe that Peggy is being courted by a handsome veterinarian who lives next door, but the character of Peggy is such a self-righteous, pontificating prude it's hard to believe anyone could stay in the same room as her, let alone falling in love. The final straw for me? Peggy rides everywhere on her bicycle, in order to save the world from pollution from internal combustion engines--but then time after time when she has to get somewhere fast she demands rides from her friends and neighbors in THEIR cars!!! Does it matter if the car you're in belongs to you or to a friend, Peggy Lee?? If the car is transporting you on your errands, then you're contributing noxious gasses one way or the other, you sanctimonious hypocrit! Phooey...

Never fear, there's hope yet. I also discovered the Amanda Pepper Mysteries by Gillian Roberts. This wonderful series about an English teacher in Philadelphia, who happens to date a cop and solve murders on her off-hours, will give the reader all the intelligence, humor, introspection and personality they need to feel satisfied. Although some cliches exist in the story (cop boyfriend, marriage-obsessed mother, perfect sister, wacky best friend, cat housemate) somehow none of it grates on your nerves the way it does in the other series. Perhaps its the obvious intelligence of the main character, Amanda, who seems to be aware of the cliches in her life, and ponders them frequently, and with subtle wit. Perhaps it's the very literacy of the character, and the quality of the writing, which is far above average and a real treat for a serious reader. Amanda has social concerns and values, but they don't pound you over the head, they invite you to consider the questions she raises and form your own conclusions. The books improve as you move through the series, and I am thankful to say I recommend this set highly. Author Gillian Roberts has another series she's just started which to my amazement tackles a subject I've written about myself lately--why is everyone supposed to be so damn happy all the time? What would happen if your main characters WEREN"T constantly high on life and chocolate? What if they were grumpy, snarky, sarcastic, moody and---human? What if there was an employee who didn't thrive on being treated as a convenient accessory to the main character's life, and instead wanted to be shown courtesy and respect? What if the two main characters weren't sure they wanted to work together, let alone be best pals? Enter the Howe and August Mysteries series. Set in California, this series features an odd couple detecting team, one woman who's an old pro and owns the company, and the other a rookie employee with a lot to learn. I started out reading the second book of the series by mistake and am now backtracking to the first with high hopes. Gillian Roberts seems to be willing to take a chance on characters who aren't perfect, cliches, or even totally likeable, and I am enjoying the change of pace. Well, Loyal Readers?? Now it's your turn...Toss in some reviews of your own if any decent mysteries have come your way lately...

Yesterday, my mom told me a little story...She'd had a five pound bag of sugar. After opening it, she discovered that ants had invaded the open sack and started a snack bar in the top lefthand corner. Disgusted but thrifty, she decided to try and save the majority of the bag and put it into the freezer, in order to rapidly immobilize the ants for more efficient removal via strainer. (She claims to have had no intention to then take the freeze dried sweet bugs and dip them in melted chocolate, creating her own little sacks of MADE IN OREGON Pioneer-Style Chocolate Covered Ants to sell at the museum) With her usual calm, she informed me that while she hated the thought of wasting almost five pounds of perfectly good sugar, it wasn't really the ants themselves that had so disgusted her, it was their lack of personal hygiene! Having lived in The Dalles for going on forty years, she announced, "I've seen ants! I've seen big ones and and little ones, black ants and red ants, fast ones and and slow ones but never any like these--They Stink!! If you touch one, or smash one, or get it caught on your clothes and crush it, there's this SMELL--strong and musky and kind of spicy!! ICK!!"

Ever helpful, I promptly told her she clearly need to buy them--ANTY-PERSPIRANT!!!!!

Groan...

Having recently escaped from a place where the only acceptable moods were "good" and "GREAT!", where a person was suspect if unwilling or unable to meet every second of the day with a nearly manic expression of glee on their face, where constant harping about the joy of a positive attitude included telling people at the abrupt and undesired end of a marriage to "just take those lemons and make lemonade" or upon the death of a newborn baby to "look on the bright side" I offer up to you this link to an article on the true value of seeing the dark as well as the light. Is being lost in gloom and negativity desirable? Not necessarily, but neither is it utterly unnatural or without some value. Human nature is a spectrum, life is a journey which includes stops at both wonderful places and terrible ones. Sometimes joy is better appreciated when you don't try to force it to be the stuff of daily fare, rendering it as common as brushing your teeth (Look on the bright side! Be grateful you HAVE teeth!) Familiarity breeds contempt, or so the saying goes. Perhaps by striving to make every day an endless expanse of nothing but good times, you are cheating yourself of experiences of value. Perhaps when you constantly judge others for their "negativity" you are failing to see the beauty of the full spectrum of humanity. Perhaps if you are so offended by someone else's moments of darkness, you should ask yourself some questions about your own fears, instead of simply deciding their bad attitude is the sole problem in sight. There is more than one way to think, more than one way to live a life of value and meaning. Maybe it's time for some people to open up their minds a bit and let some shadows in...

I've spent a great deal of my free time recently reading books, websites, blogs, and articles about nutrition, diet, diabetes, metabolic syndrome, insulin resistance, weight related prejudice, the fat acceptance movement, and othe related topics. I've had multiple conversations with friends and family regarding these subjects. I've watched online lectures and documentaries, I've thought long and hard. The conclusions I've come to, Loyal Readers, are nothing less than terrifying. Coming from a family where diabetes and heart disease are rampant, it should be no suprise that the subject is on my mind a great deal, I suppose it would actually be MORE terrifying if I weren't aware and afraid. But I am not alone, not in my family, and not in this society. The subject of weight control, or the apparent lack of control, is about as inflammitory as that of politics or religion, as far as I can tell.

If you doubt me, just read this article about a woman who actually created a false book called "Fat Is Contagious" and carried it around with her as a way to deal with the daily hassles she encounters due to being overweight. Try to express your concern that maybe the reason you're struggling with your weight and blood sugar is due to carbohydrates and not dietary fat, as explained in the article on Note to Dr. Dean Ornish and listen as people tell you everything from "Your brain needs carbs for fuel!" to "You'll ruin your kidneys eating all that protein!" Just for the fun of it, ask those folks to spend a few days reading Good Calories, Bad Calories by science writer Gary Taubes and then try making those statements with a straight face. Whether or not you personally believe that being overweight is as simple as "calories in vs.calories out" or if you've grown to think that it's a question of gluttony, sloth, and utter lack of self-control leading to the downfall of American society, or maybe it's a conspiracy on the part of the government, the medical profession, the diet industry, the pharmaceutical companies, mega-farms, General Foods, and network television, or perhaps it's the fault of our genes, our upbringing, our pancreas, and our simple desire for a little comfort and joy in our lives...My point is that no matter what we believe, we seem to believe it strongly, vehemently, and to be willing to defend our beliefs far past the point of common courtesy and decency.

Now they tell us that even zero calorie diet soda or flavored water drinks can cause us to become fatter, not due to any actual calories consumed but thanks to the Pavlovian response of our insulin levels to the taste of artificial sweetener. That's right--a glass of zero-calorie diet pepsi can make you gain weight!! I've been reading a series of murder mysteries which have a main character who is a cookie baker---Dear God!! Just reading about these forbidden sweet treats is probably piling on the pounds! I watched The Barefoot Contessa cook delicious fare last week--Is that where that extra pound came from? I know, I know...you're dying to tell me that if I'd get up off my fat fanny and go exercise instead of reading or watching the Food Channel for half an hour, I'd have a little less to worry about--to which I refer you back to the Taubes book, and its collection of studies on the supposed efficiency of exercise as a weight control tool. I won't argue the value of exercise with you, in fact I don't want to argue with you at all. I want to stand by my personal belief that I was born with a predisposition to become insulin resistant, that decades of trying to reduce my weight by reducing my caloric intake has slowed my metabolism to the point that I could (as I believe my mother has pointed out about all the women in our family)"Survive for months on my blubber while stranded on an Arctic iceburg". I want to believe that the secret to my stopping diabetes in its tracks is for me to avoid carbohydrates as if they were the devil himself, clutch my Atkin's book firmly to my flabby chest, and never let my fasting blood sugar go over 100. The problem is that for a severely damaged metabolism, recovery takes time and a very delicate balance, as well as constant vigilance. A few too many cauliflower buds, two cups of raw lettuce instead of just one, and slam!!! There's your next blood sugar reading shot to crap. Desperate times call for desperate meaasures, and so I am planning in the not too distant future something akin to a month in rehab, just like Britney, only older and way way cheaper--I am going to rent a yurt out the middle of nowhere, like in Fossil, Oregon or something. Far away from any type of grocery store, 7-11, microwave or other modern convenience, I'm going to spend a quiet month re-training my metabolism by subsisting on nothing but meat and fat--seal blubber, cow halves, and all types of fishy and eggy things with not a single carb in sight for the entire month until I can stand up proudly and declare to my pancreas, "You ain't the boss of ME!" Well, OK, you ARE the boss...but can't we all just get along???