Category Archives: purple

My Haven Is Home

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My haven is home.  So blessed during this stay-at-home order Dean and I have been given opportunity to care for our home and yard.  Our home gives back so much more.  And spring has been so pleasant this year, very much like spring should be.  Sunshine, rains, a random storm brews up, cool mornings, and warmer afternoons.  We had a couple of days it felt more like summer, but it cooled down after the rains.  And then a few frost warning mornings, but it never came.  Better safe than sorry, we covered our annuals and perennials.  Kind of like the corona virus for us.  We take the precautions: masks, social distancing, and extra sanitation in our home and when we are out.

These mild temperatures and regular watering from the rains has provided such a green haven of leaves, grasses, mosses, and foliage.  Mid-spring the dogwood, azalea, clematis, irises and the flowering trees, bushes, and stemmed blooms are clothed in white or more showy colors of fuchsia, paler pinks, purples, blues, oranges, yellows, and reds.  The peonies are exceptional this year.  The song birds are plentiful.  Their songs divine.  The morning doves, robins, finches of purple and yellow, grosbeaks, cardinals, indigo buntings, nuthatches, and sparrows of many species come to our feeders and reside in the birdhouses or bushes.  Hawks and owls call out throughout the day and night as their homes are nearby.  Of course, families of squirrels and rabbits in the neighborhood are for the taking by these birds of prey.  Occasionally, it is a morning dove for a meal.

Stay, stay at home, my heart, and rest;
Home-keeping hearts are happiest,
For those that wander they know not where
Are full of trouble and full of care;
       To stay at home is best.

Weary and homesick and distressed,
They wander east, they wander west,
And are baffled and beaten and blown about
By the winds of the wilderness of doubt;
       To stay at home is best.

Then stay at home, my heart, and rest;
The bird is safest in its nest;
O’er all that flutter their wings and fly
A hawk is hovering in the sky;
       To stay at home is best.

Song by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

April Evening At Boone Hollow Farm

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The vivid beauty of this spring season is present at Boone Hollow Farm near Defiance, Missouri.  In our attempt to get away from the urban or should I say “world” troubles, this farm became our mid-week oasis. It is almost magical at the farm where Dean and I’s greenhouse seats.  The lowering sun illuminated the purples and greens in the fields and groves of trees, the grass plush.  Birds singing their evening tunes, frogs peeping in unison, sheep in the neighbor farmyard baaing.  A serene symphony of countryside calm.  My country garden is a dwelling place for me, a bed to lay my cares aside.  Our sowed seedlings in the screenhouse side of the greenhouse are coming up well.  We are hopeful the leafy greens will be ready to provide the base for our salads by the end of April or early May.  In the mist of viral chaos there is a dwelling place for each of us, even if it is just in the mind.

 

The Love of Color And Dirt

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I have held up fairly well this very cold winter season.  I kept busy indoors with a 1000-piece puzzle, reading, writing, vacation planning, and even a couple of hand-written letters placed in the mail box.  You know, the old-fashioned way of communicating!  My interior decorating picked up again, with our newest additions  a chaise and lace-paneled screen for my boudoir, as well as a vintage stained glass window for the wall above the buffet in the living room.  It brightens the room up with the sun on it; swirls of purple, blue, and golden yellow reflect into the cottage.  Just what my soul needed … color!  Having just a little spring fever …

Oh, but there is the love of dirt, too!  I am anxious to get outdoors to dig in the dirt, sow seeds, plant flowers, move onto exterior decorating, and feel the fresh air and sun on my face.  Daylight savings time began this past Sunday, and the Spring Equinox is a week away!  Do you think the weatherman and mother nature saw the calendar, too?  I sure hope so!  No springtime snows and frigid cold blasts, please!

This will be our first spring in our little St. Charles cottage.  Signs of green popped up a couple of snowstorms ago.  I believe they are daffodils throughout the front and back yards.  Bursts of yellow in a few days!  I am sprucing up the indoor plants at home and at the office, trimming dead branches and topping the pots with fresh potting soil this week and next.  My green friends have done well under the plant lights in the basement, where it is not quite as cold as the barely heated garage at the other house.  And no feline friends to perch themselves in the potted plants!  My citrus tree, bird-of-paradise, ferns, and other potted perennials will go outdoors when the threat of frost is past, late in April.

Plans for very old awnings to come down, painting weathered window frames, window cleaning, and new fencing are on the top of the list of outdoor chores this spring and summer.  But the other chore, which to me is so much fun, is yard designing with the existing garden beds, as well as the choices and placement of garden art.  One of my childhood friends from Minnesota sent me a photo of her little mini greenhouse in the midst of an autumn snowfall, the sun gorgeously set behind it filtering through the autumn leaves and windows.  It brought to life the desire to build such a potting shed, maybe a bit of a “she-shed” where I can play in the dirt and plants.  But also to sit and relax on a comfy chair sipping herb tea, my writing journal, and pen among the birds, butterflies, and blooms.

 

A Different Season

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wild violetsSpring finally arrived but transitioned into summer within days.  80 and even 90 temps have come quickly after such a long winter.  I have not put in my vegetable and herb garden yet.  Yes, I know.  A sense of guilt for the early crop of greens I missed.  But the garden will get planted.  It has been one cold spell after another, one distraction after another, and one rainy day after another.

We brought the perennials outside yesterday.  Some survived the winter in the semi-heated garage, and others did not.  After a good soaking last night, my potted greenery seems to relish the mild outdoor air and misty morning rain this Sunday.  My arrowhead plant has taken a beating from the baby kitten newly adopted.  “Little WeeWot”, I dubbed him, who likes to hop from the tall ceramic pot up onto the buffet where he has full view of the kitchen.  He even lays on the arrowhead plant to nap.  The arrowhead plant is now housed next to the porch under the Japanese red maple.  Such a pleasant sight this morning to see its branches perked up looking for the sunlight on this overcast day.  Hopefully, just the song birds perch on the potted plant.

This spring has been a different season.  I see my plants tell my story, my life. Gone with the dead, on with the living.  Browns and grays have passed away.  Green and vivacious colors reign again.  Flowers of red, purple, blues, and yellow spring forth and fill the pots overflowing.  Relationships renew.  Love lavishly wins.  Always. Tulips

 

Making Way For Spring Colors

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Household and yard projects ruled the weekend.  Dean and I managed to get a couple of walks in with Midnight between chores.  On Saturday Dean cleaned and prepped the concrete slab for the laminate flooring to be installed this coming week in our house addition. While he did that I raked twigs and leaves, remnants of autumn and winter.  The winds seem to blow the gum balls and pine needles from the neighbor’s trees our way. Cannot complain too much as these neighbor’s trees attract an owl that lives in the neighborhood.  All the brown rubbish filled the compost bin, and then some.  So that is just the front yard.

The back yard is one huge mess with the room addition project. The yard needs to be leveled and new grass seeded.  Dean and I picked up huge tree roots and rocks unearthed from the foundation dig up.  We continued discussion on making a small retaining wall, a rock swale, and small patio area.  Piles of gray and brown sit curbside for the city’s bulky trash pickup this week;  twigs, limbs, scrap lumber  and old pipes.  Seasons.  Making way for spring colors.  Greener grass; purple, pink, and white blooms; and the perennials being brought outside from the semi-heated garage one warm weekend before Easter.  See what the March winds bring until April.  Welcome Spring!  So happy you came Today!

 

 

Colorful Reflections

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The holiday weekend marked the baptism of our youngest grandchild, Elise. Beautiful evening ceremony.  Lovely child.  God with us.  Labor Day seems to signify the end of summer. Colorful fields with changing hues of amber and purple for the harvest season.  A whole summer of prolific arugula is about to end although my growing season continues with my herbs.  I sowed more leaf lettuce and basil a month ago in hopes to yield a fall crop.  See how mother nature takes her course.  Next year I will introduce a new herb to my quilt of culinary herb patches.  Lavender.  So I will learn how to prepare the soil for my first crop of organic lavender.  Lavender lemonade is my favorite summertime beverage, and a lavender tisane is a soothing, calming herbal tea enjoyed before nap time or bed time. This time next year I hope to harvest my own fresh grown lavender at the Deanna Greens And Garden Art plot seated in Boone’s Hollow Farm.  Not sure if little Elise will be quite ready for a tea party then, but maybe soon in the many days that follow …

The Basics

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Gratitude

One water pipe can change the course of one’s life.  A broken one anyway! Life took a U-turn or some may say a few steps back.  I remind myself that life is not a linear course.  There is so much to learn and experience for it to be a flat, straight line.  Dean and I are back to the basics.  Simple living arrangements in a 1-bedroom studio apartment in a hotel. Stripped to enough clothing for one week.  And I am managing!  Maybe I need to rid myself of the excess in my closets at home collecting dust?  Same with food provisions.  We manage without all the condiments in the frig and choices in the cupboards.  What about all the nick nacks that we packed those 2 days immediately after the flood?  I could give away or toss away into the trash.  The basics indeed, and I am grateful to have a warm bed, comfortable couch, a stove to cook on, breakfast served daily, and the ability to write.

Our plan to buy a guest house in our beloved Hermann, Missouri was curtailed with the water main break in our home 2 weeks ago. We have to take care of our own residence before providing for others. Purples, lavendar, greens, and grapevines color my vision to share a tranquil retreat with others.  This will come about … God’s perfect timing and plans.  We focus on new flooring, walls, and doors for our home.  God’s provisions and blessings.  The basics and the details are in His hands.

 

New Homes

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Our bromeliads need to be divided as they had been quite busy this past year producing babies. A bay window in shallow terra-cotta pots had been their home. Showy fuchsia edges contrast with the fresh green, these babies needed new homes as they were crowding their parents. Dean and I carted two plants with us to our July Minnesota destination. The bromeliads stayed outside near the cabin and lake for a few days. When the storms brewed up, we brought them onto the screened porch. We hoped these showy plants were accumulated to their new surroundings, when we spent an afternoon dividing and repotting them. Five planters were made and given to our northern friends. We hope these tropical plants enjoy their new homes. We brought to our Missouri home gifts of heirloom tomato plants and streptacarpella, which have thrived well this past month. These tomato plants should produce fruit well into the winter months in the comforts of our semi-heated garage. And maybe the purple-flowering streptacarpella will find their home in window planters in the spring.
We are cleaning out that garage this month, finding new homes for bikes, toys, old furniture, and throwing away those “why did we keep this?” stuff. Our lawnmower and garden tools will go into their new home, a shed built in our back yard this week. We are making room for our beloved plants as the air changed this week. In about 6 – 8 weeks, our planters landscaping the yard this summer will be in their winter home, inside the heated garage under plant lights before the first frost of the autumn season.
Dean and I dream of a new home for just the two of us. The place we call ours, some where between St. Charles and Hermann along the Missouri River and the wine valley. If I chose, retirement from my office job is only 5 years away. But not retirement from living. So much more to experience. See what adventures come as we seek and find God’s will in this approaching season. Wherever we go, green things, art, and hospitality come with.

The Patchwork Garden

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Green swatches with flecks of purple and pink will completely cover this bed. Just need a few more sunny days and rain or well water. Our raised bed is a patchwork garden. One month ago seeds of the early spring greens, chives, and sugar snap and large pod peas went into the cold organic soil situated in this raised bed on the screenhouse side of our greenhouse. The lettuce and spinach are sparse. Either bad seeds, but most likely not enough watering and near freezing mornings a few days in April. We will reseed this week. One end are the early spring lettuces, spinach, and chives sowed in patches rather than rows. Then the 2 rows of peas in the middle. On Sunday I sowed a row of bush beans near the pea patch. At the other end of the raised bed are patches of herbs sowed into the soil; cilantro, a blend of basils, thyme, and marjoram. We selected Olds Seed Company organic vegetable and herb seeds bought at the local country store late winter. PeasInThePod
SweetPeaBouquetSeedPacketThe little pea patch is coming along just fine. This weekend we strung twine along the rows for the pea plants to climb. We have about another month until the date of maturity for both varieties. The delicate blossoms should be appearing soon. This legume can be grown just for the bouquet of flowers and fragance. Nutrients are provided for the soil as well. I cherish the fresh, delicious peas with a pinch of kosher salt and dabble of sweet butter. About as many varieties of peas there are, is about how many sweet sayings, poems, and songs referring to the pea. Babies, children and lovers have been called “sweet pea” for centuries. “Two peas in a pod” is a phrase I say when two people act alike. Mostly, sweet pea is a term of endearment such as from Amos Lee’s song…
Sweet pea, apple of my eye
Don’t know when and I don’t know why
You’re the only reason I keep on coming home.

December Sky

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On Sunday morn, I awoke at my weekday rising time of 5 am something. My bio clock keeps ticking on time. Darn it anyway. I join my feline friends in the living room and lie on the trundle bed snuggled under the throw while gazing at the picture window. Celine and Jo are situated on the love seat next to the window, their favorite perching spot. Celine had been there for awhile, dozing from time to time until the tweet of a neighborhood sparrow arouses her. Jo, the single male cat in the house just arrived to the scene after his night of prowling in the house. He cackles at the birdie, premeditating the pounce. Jo, our daughter’s Tabby takes every opportunity to escape to the outdoors. I cannot blame him. Pennylane, known as “Pounds of Penny” snoozes while her sassy plumposity lies on the floor nearby. And Pixie, the eldest feline and Midnight, the dog have not awoke yet, snoring with the other remaining humankind in the bedrooms. I watch the December sky turn from a midnight blue to a fuzzy and fluffy white with a tinge of purple behind the bare tree silhouttes. The silence so clear, a quiet moment with God. Creation speaks as the pastor did at church later that morning. “Trees” written by Joyce Kilmer in 1914 …
BareTrees
I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth’s sweet flowing breast;

A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;

A tree that may in Summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;

Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.

Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.