More! Morels! Rick mowed the little piece of grass that I can’t reach with Johnny yesterday and found these:

A grandfather and grandson! Just growing in the grass, but adjacent to the flower bed where we found their “cousin” growing last week. Look how little the small one is next to my finger.

In this photo you can see how far apart they are growing from each other. See them? Big morel at the bottom of the photo; little one at the top in a direct line.

And, yes, we will be eating them ... soon.

These mushrooms were found growing in the backyard. I’m sure they have a name but we normally call this kind SBMs (small brown mushrooms). In other words, too hard to classify. No. We won’t be eating these.

As a side note: I sincerely hope no one was too upset by my “Morel” of the story the other day. My sister and Rick both found the story touching and sad. I guess my short story was a hit since I made my readers feel sympathy for a poor little mushroom!

My neighbor, Terri, at the beginning of our little dead-end street, has a gorgeous cherry tree. I took a walk down there this week to visit it. Standing underneath its bloom-laden boughs was awe-inspiring. I found this poem which just about says it all.

Latter summer fall and winter,

I lie down in your remnants.

This is a reflectory post. Hmm, is that word? If it’s not, it should be. Even though some things in my life are not going according to plan (Sailor), I can’t help but be thankful for all the good things I have going for me. First off, I love living in New Jersey. Spring is particularly sweet in this part of the U.S. Everything is green or blooming. Dogwoods, weeping cherry trees, lilacs, azaleas, and the list goes on and on. Gorgeous. Lush. Paradise. From a “girl” who lived the better part of her life in Colorado, New Jersey is an oasis. So far this year our weather station has recorded 15 inches of moisture. I think that’s more than Colorado gets on a yearly basis. We think nothing here of a day-long rain that amounts to an inch of moisture. The vegetation just drinks it all in, like it’s its normal due. Amazing.

Living in New Jersey we are able to enjoy cheaper gas prices than many other states. And HELLO! I don’t have to pump my own gas. Not only is our gas inexpensive in comparison, I don’t have to pump it. I can be a true Jersey Princess sitting in the throne of my car while someone else does the menial work. What’s not to love? [For those of you not in the know; it’s against the law to pump your own gas in New Jersey.]

Our House. Yes, I used a capital letter on purpose. We only had one week to house-hunt and there were not many houses on the market at that time, so our choices were limited. Plus at the time of our move we had seven dogs to take into consideration for the house we would eventually live in. We knew we could not have a house right next to another. Not with seven dogs! Our search at the time was limited to those with a bit more space.

I had seen this particular house online in my MLS search. We dubbed it “the Chateau” since it looked like a French “chateau” style house. I fell in love at first sight. It was slightly above our comfort zone. When we arrived for our “house-hunting” trip our realtor thought it was too far out and therefore didn’t show it to us until the last day. The setting and acreage were perfect. The inside was plain (as we had seen by photos online) but it had “good bones” and we had renovations in mind (they start in a few weeks!). We put an offer on it immediately. Soon it was ours. It welcomed us with open arms right from the start. I love this house. I love my neighborhood. It fits. We even got a pool in the bargain, which neither of us was interested in. Now I wonder what we would do without it. (Pool opening for the year scheduled for this Friday!) The one and only major downside is that our house in Colorado is still for sale two years later. Bummer.

We have wonderful neighbors. Kim and Mark across the street were the first ones to offer up the olive branch. Since then Kim has led me on many interesting capers. She is a treasure for sure. Being Kim-napped has become something I look forward to. Aileen next-door keeps me supplied in fresh eggs. Her chickens lay the most delicious, oddly-shaped eggs around. She joins Kim and myself on many excursions. Luke, down the street, looks after our cats while we go away and makes certain that I see the local sights. He and I have started taking various hikes around the area, which I will be blogging about soon. In Colorado, we hardly saw our neighbors let alone do anything extracurricular with them. It’s all good.

We miss our cabin in the mountains of Colorado. However, our house here in New Jersey bridges that gap in many ways. We have woods surrounding us that teem with wildlife, we can have wood fires in our fireplace (not allowed along the Front Range of Colorado unless you have a house with a wood-burning fireplace prior to a certain year—no new construction after 1991 or so), we can go for hikes in the woods from our house, and a five minute drive gets our canoe in the waters of Green Turtle Pond. I am a country girl at heart, not a city one, so this suits me just fine. Nothing gives me more peace of soul than standing in my back yard listening to the varied bird song, taking in the breeze, and listening to the wind through the trees.

Rick’s job is another good thing. He loves it. Such a change from the last gasps of Hewlett-Packard-turned-Agilent. wow. Such a wonderful company and exciting business that he now gets to go in to each and every day. I am a tad bit envious. They’ve made us part of the family, and for that, Andy; thank you.

We’ll be here for at least another four years which is just fine by me. Like I said before, we miss our cabin in Colorado (and our “cabin neighbors”), but plan to make yearly treks back there to spend some time. Other than that, after spending so many years in Colorado, I really don’t miss much about it. Sure I miss a few friends, but they have basically all gone on with their own lives (at least I don’t hear much from them) and that’s okay too although it’s sad. We’ve grown apart; done different things with our lives. Rick and I have always been renegades—living in foreign countries and learning different cultures (Germany, the Netherlands and France). We like that about ourselves. Our lives have only been enriched by living where we have. Uh, wait a minute ... that made it sound like New Jersey was like living in a foreign country. It’s not; but culturally it IS very different, but in a good way.

Okay, enough blithering on and on from me for now. I can’t promise I won’t blither on again at some point in the future. I hope you will still be willing to listen.

photos: top; my neighbor’s dogwood tree :  dogwood blossom along my street   :  bleeding hearts in my backyard

Once upon a time there was a little white Morel growing peacefully in a bed of mulch, just minding its own business and thinking shroomy thoughts. In its short lifetime it had known moisture and glorious sunshine as well as rich, dark soil. It grew into a handsome specimen. Standing tall, it seemed to know just how handsome it was.

One day someone discovered it. They exclaimed over its beauty and seemed to be in awe of having found it growing there in its mulchy flower bed. They came and took photos and oohed and aahed. It was certain that it would be famous—maybe even get its photo on the cover of Morel Monthly. It basked in the glory of it.

It was still musing over its would-be fame & fortune when a large hand came down from the sky and plucked it right up! oh no! the little Morel exclaimed, what will become of me now?

The little Morel was taken inside and laid gently upon a plate. More photos were taken. Aha!, thought the little Morel, I know what my fate is to be. Why, I am to become a piece of art! Just look at me!

It was indeed beautiful; truly a masterpiece with its honeycombed structure. Absolute perfection!

But, alas, it was not meant to be. This would be the end of the road for this particular hapless little Morel. I will spare you the details, but suffice it to say that the “Morel” of this story is not to grow where Rick and Lynne can find you or you will end up being part of their dinner. The End.

Above: Pork tenderloin with Morel mushroom sauce; roasted fennel and potatoes. D-lish!

This is half of my back yard. The trees have not completely leafed out yet but they are working furiously on it. This is one of my flower beds (or maybe I should call it a rock garden!). [Note: all photos were taken this weekend.]

Above is part of the other half, and my big flower bed which will soon have a large variety of things taking their turn blooming.

With all these trees it figures that we get lots of different birds. Some of them are not residents of our mountain highlands and live a bit further south, while others live here year round. The red-bellied woodpecker is one of those residents. [Please don’t ask why they call it “red-bellied” when it’s obvious that it’s head is the only red thing on this bird.]

This male Rose-Breasted Grosbeak (and the female, next photo) we only see occasionally.

One of my favorites is the Indigo Bunting which we only see coming to the feeder in spring. They are so bright blue you can’t miss them even when they sit in the trees!

Of course we gets lots of these pesky (but cute) creatures.

This is growing in the woods just off the big flower bed. It’s a kind of Jack-in-the-Pulpit. I consider the woods inside our fenced area to be “my yard” as well, so this counts.

Rick found this on Sunday morning as he started to plant the marigolds in the front flower bed. It’s a white morel! More on that story in a different entry ...

And last, but certainly not least, the newest repeat visitor to the front yard. Patch(es). As I drove in the driveway returning from a grocery trip yesterday, there she was laying in the same spot again. I think she likes it here. I managed to catch her on video as she was leaving.

I do hope you’ve enjoyed your tour of things found in my yard!