Here, baby, here

We arrived at our little house in Hamilton, Mt., on Sunday night, tired, happy, sad, and a mix of other emotions. We've slept, off and on, for a couple of days. Today, we rise and shine. The morning is a cool, overcast one. We scope out the garden that came with our new place. We are pleasantly surprised.

My car backs up to a tall stand of Oriental poppies. I knew they were there, I just didn't know how big.

Our little, old carport is surrounded by blooming things. We sweep all of winter's last crumbly leaves from a weathered concrete floor and unpack our fold-up camp chairs. With a glass of wine each and a a section of tree trunk to serve as coffee table, we sit and survey the many blooming irises, as well as coral bells, rhubarb, raspberries and the poppies, of course. Someone here gardened, the old-fashioned way. It's lovely.

A humble carport becomes our getaway. The hazy blue color to the rear, left, actually is a mountain. It's called Downing.

To add to the Montana plants, we packed just a few of our own in my 2003 Subaru. Crazy, eh?

But they survived -- all of the hostas, Japanese painted ferns and variegated Solomon's seal packed tightly around a resin planter containing the roots of a six-foot-tall Meyer lemon tree. Had to bring it, swaddled in burlap. It's our favorite. It will live outside this summer and probably in the south-facing window of our bedroom this winter.

Below is part of the small St. Louis yard from which native Solomon's seal, in the foreground, was dug and brought to Montana.

Canna and Solomon's seal in the foreground, herbs in the sunniest spot against the house.

I also started three types of tomatoes from seed indoors in St. Louis -- heirloom Black Cherry and heirloom Green Zebra plus several of the prolific hybrid called Sungold. I had great luck with lettuce, but harvested most, and so-so germination with eggplant. I brought the eggplant and tomatoes, already hardened off by going in and out of the St. Louis back door. We'll see how well they do (and I do) in a garden in Montana. There's a huge raised bed here in need of major weeding, composting and roto-tilling before any Midwest transplants go in the ground.

Tomatoes made the trip pretty well. At least they're upright and have a few tiny flowers. They've gone outside and been brought back in here, as well. With tonight's low of a frosty 33 and upper 30s or low 40s predicted for the rest of this week's evenings, they'll live on a windowsill in the mud room.

But first, the real reason we're here -- the mountains. These are some that we saw along the way.

A first siting of mountains as we head west toward Bozeman.

Near the Big Hole River in a huge valley also called the Big Hole, southeast of where we live.

Mountain men, or man. We dine next to one -- a wary cowboy -- at Bitterroot Brewery.

And now I have to go!! The truck has just arrived!!! Lots of hauling off to be done -- of bicycles (old), harpsichords (2, built by Alex!), clothes, chairs, tables and the like. The one piece I'm worried about is the old Kentucky hutch -- also called a dry sink -- given to me by my mother. Here's what it looked like, blanketed and shrink-wrapped in St. Louis. I am hoping that it made the trip unscathed and unscratched...

The hutch before the big move. After?? For these and other domestic details, stay tuned.