Diary of My Country Life-September 1st, 2025

The original source of this blog: https://www.lotusandmichael.com/blogs/diary-of-my-country-life

09/01/2025 Monday 56-79F Mostly Cloudy

Last Sunday we went to a nearby flea market, one of my favorite places to go on weekends. It is a big market, with hundreds of booths. The weather was nice--little white clouds drifting in blue sky, the blue was so lovely that it looked like some sort of pure clean spring water inviting you for a swig. Breezes were on and off. Driving in our little yellow mini convertible, my heart was filled with a vacationing or festival mood.

River road 29 is also one of my favorite road drives. Indeed, the road was a little winding, and each direction has only one lane. But the road was quiet and serene, lined with tall trees; and there were both mountain and river views. Sometimes we passed some cute houses, little towns, farms, people would wave and smile at us. Especially when it was a beautiful sunny day, the light beams went through the swaying trees and formed a changing, flowing pattern like a floating boat on a river.  

One thing interesting about this flea market trip was that it seemed all of a sudden, a lot of booths were selling paintings. In the past we did see paintings there, but just very few random booths. This time, the percentage was much higher. Though they were all secondhand paintings; some paintings seemingly were decades old, people were like us, strolling and browsing with great interest.  

Then a painting caught my eye—it was a painting of a lady sitting by her balcony, wearing a pink sleepwear. Her felt hat was a very old fashioned one, and the city scene outside her balcony was like that of Brooklyn. The edges of the painting were worn and turned yellowish, looking like something at least one hundred-year-old. The painting itself had nothing special, but for some reason it hit me right away. Perhaps because of its rustic, inhibited aura. 

I didn’t check the price. As a painter, I often felt reluctant to buy others’ paintings except for the ones which I absolutely wanted to own. So, I passed, telling myself that if I saw it again on my way back, I would buy it. 

But eventually I didn’t return to that aisle: I bought something else even beyond my expectations and I had spent all my cash. That thing was an easel. The seller told me that this easel was from late 19th century, a real vintage. What made it more precious were that all the parts of it were still functional and the height was adjustable. I always wanted a second easel, a one with style. So this one, with its flawless oak structure and brass accessories, and light in weight, was my dream. 

This time without hesitation, I made an offer and it was accepted. That’s a great bargain. Feeling excited all the way home, I planned to paint more with this easel: The first painting I was going to paint would be the Russian sage in my back flower bed, to which I had been inspired for some time. 

This year I didn’t buy as many plants as I did in the past two years. So far basically I only made three small purchases: one aloe vera for my homemade shampoo; one joe pye weed because I happened to see it in the nursery, it was tall and slender (would add more texture into my garden), aromatic, and deer-resistant; the third one was saffron corms. In fact, I planted some saffron bulbs two years ago, but last fall only one flower popped out. I made tea with its precious three strands of spice. The tea pot was filled up two more times, while the tea water was still pretty red at the end, and tasted lovely. That’s why I planned to plant more this year; I wanted more saffron spice so I could dry it for tea and cooking.

Yes, from this point, I am picky. I plant not only for planting, or for the appearance of the garden’s sake, but also for consumption. Therefore, I become very fussy about what to add in my garden given its limited space: The plant needs to be fragrant to please my nose; and be edible or have other practical use; and be deer-resistant (I am tired of fighting against deer). Having all the three elements is ideal but having at least two of them were my definite bottom line.  

Two days ago, my epiphyllum bloomed its second flower. The day when it was about to bloom, I noticed that its bud swelled dramatically. So I moved the pot into my bedroom near my pillow, in case I might miss out its bloom during the night hours. Then some time at night, I was awakened by a musky fragrance. I suspected that it must be from my epiphyllum flower. The light was turned on; I saw a vivid, stunning large flower lifting its head gracefully smiling at me. That’s just gorgeous!

The beauty about epiphyllum flower is that it blooms for a very short time (usually just several hours during the night). If you didn’t give it enough attention or get its message, most likely you can only find the spent blossoms the next morning. So Chinese people used to regard happy moments or rare-to-find beautiful things as “the bloom of epiphyllum”.

After the blooming night, I brought my epiphyllum back to its normal place in the courtyard in the morning. A lucky bee found it immediately. It dived straight onto its yellow stigma, spiraled about it. This was an event that would only happen once in this bee’s life, so enjoy it! 

Again, early bird gets worms 😂.

“As always, only after my fade in the mornings,

You would pass,

And would notice-

That how beautiful yet lonely I was last night outside your window.

Even there was only one single flower blooming on me,

I still appreciated it.

And I am the only one who knows that the night you missed last night,

Shone with the purest moon.”

----The Secret of An Epiphyllum (Poet: Murong Xi; translated by Lotus)