We're going to eat a lot of persimmon pudding

I've been derelict, not cooking at all, serving everyone grilled cheese sandwiches and pancakes. The last week has been nutty  -- in good ways! Chief among the positive developments: My mother came home from the hospital, is eating with gusto and feeling better than she has since September. The new chemo is doing its job. Cancer will shock you when it goes on a mad rampage, but it can shock you every bit as much when it suddenly turns tail. The last few days have been disorienting in that regard, but we're not complaining.

Garden update: 

Back in December, I ordered a bunch of bare-root trees and they finally arrived. Yesterday, we planted. I went overboard with my order, but especially in the persimmon department: fuyu, chocolate, and hachiya. What is wrong with me? They are very beautiful when fruiting in the fall (see aspirational photo at top), but we struggled to find places for those three trees. If even just one survives, we are going to be drowning in persimmons.

Which is a truly nightmarish image. 

This is how a young persimmon tree looks in February:

Can you even see it? The tall stick in the foreground.

 

We also planted four fig trees along the street outside the fence, since deer do not eat fig leaves. We can never have too many figs. And we put in some (more) raspberries, grapes, blueberries, and two columnar apple trees, which are wonderful because you can plant them in tight spaces. They grow straight up like . . . columns. This is what the Scarlet Spire columnar apple tree looks like as of 5 minutes ago:

An asparagus.

After the big morning in the yard, my husband threw an all-boys Super Bowl party and I went to the movies to escape the shouting and potato chips. I didn't love watching Jeff Bridges throw up, but otherwise really enjoyed Crazy Heart.

(I should say, I have a horror of watching people throw up, even in movies. Maybe especially in movies, because you can't leave the room. Others will probably not be similarly offended.)