Rosemary is my favorite herb, and this is what it looks like today--a little rain (not enough, sadly), a few warm hours (80 degrees by mid-afternoon), and the blossoms pop out, sweetly, delicately blue, along all the stems. Some bushes are bluer than others, but it's easy to see why the story of the Virgin's blue cloak (flung over the rosemary bush to dry) is such a popular one. And here's a tea that I make right out of the garden: 2 parts rosemary leaves, 1 part juniper berries, crushed, 1 part mint, 1 part lemon grass. Tart and tangy.
Tomorrow is photo shoot day. A photographer from Texas Monthly is coming out to MeadowKnoll to take photos to go with an interview that is schedule for the magazine's April issue. A "side-bar" interview, it's called: running down the edge of the page. I'm always delighted to be in TM. It doesn't happen often (last time, it was with Hangman's Root, which TM chose as one of the 10 "Notable Books" of 1994). So I'm thrilled. Picture me washing my hair, rooting through the closet for clean jeans and a half-way acceptable shirt, putting on makeup (ACK!), and trying to look like a serious writer, whatever that is. I think I'll wear the red/orange/green socks my dear D-I-L Sheryl knitted for me, with sandals. Serious writers wear red socks, don't they?
And today . . . well, today is Celebration Day. I finished the last bit of polishing on Spanish Dagger, printed out the manuscript (it just took a jiffy on our new speedy printer), and got it ready to go flying off to New York tomorrow, about three weeks ahead of the deadline. I've been working on Beatrix #4, but took a brief leave of absence to go back to China and get her all prettied up for her next (omigawd, this is #15!) appearance.
Reading Note, from Maud Grieve's A Modern Herbal. Do check out the link--Grieve is delightful to read, although, since her book was published in 1929, you'll want to check her medicinal recommendations against more recent research:
- There is a vulgar belief in Gloucestershire and other counties, that Rosemary will not grow well unless where the mistress is "master"; and so touchy are some of the lords of creation upon this point, that we have more than once had reason to suspect them of privately injuring a growing rosemary in order to destroy this evidence of their want of authority.