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A Destination, Literary, or Garden Escape – You Pick

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I am counting down the days now to our summer escape to my favorite northern destination in Minnesota. 62 days to be exact. Island Lake between Detroit Lakes and Park Rapids at Valhalla Resort is the place to be. The steady lapping of the water across the sandy shoreline, I long to hear. And the loons with their young calling out to the others, echos in the morning air. The swift tide brings gemmy and shell treasures along the shoreline with mossy driftwood after an afternoon storm. Just the quiet of a summer evening is what I desire. Simple. No city lights, just the northern stars and shining moon to guide my walk along the gravel road to the campfire sparks awaiting for more friends to join.
During those days of rest, a book or two will be at hand to read. Poetry felt. More words to spill onto my journal, eventually onto this blog. Last summer was the genesis of another writing genre, a literary affair with history and romance. Dean and I’s first. Another new adventure for us, probably a several year project with military and history research with 1st and 2nd hand accounts from the Minnesotan locals. Nature walks and shady naps under the birch trees abade.
Of course, the other escape is the garden. Someone’s other than mine, where I do not have to work in it, just be. All the senses awakened. Planted purple lobelia, pink impatiens, and contrasting green native ferns glisten with dewdrops of the crisp mornings. Vignettes of wrought-iron and wooden creations, the ambiance of charm. Fragrant organic tea and delicious strawberry bread shared with my friend while sparrows chirp and chipmunks scurry. I cannot wait to be at Valhalla once again.
Other destinations are on the horizon, I see a place for Dean and I to call “our own”. “Because there’s nothing more beautiful than the way the ocean refuses to stop kissing the shoreline, no matter how many times its sent away,” poet Sarah Kay writes. “Today is your day! Your mountain is waiting. So … get on your way,” Dr. Suess encourages us. See where this life leads us …

Color My World With Flowers

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In the greenhouse business, we have an opportunity to sow, plant, propagate, grow so many varieties of plants. Of course, the main color is green. But with flowers, the contrast with the green creates a canvas indescribable. Photos say so much, but in reality a person can use all their senses: see, feel, hear, taste, and smell the magnificence of God’s creation. I will share a collage of flowering plants from our greenhouse, gardens, and my want-to-grow list.
“Consider how the wild flowers grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you, not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these.” Luke 12:27

Texas Tea (Part 2)

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grandmas-cornOur Texas mini vacation included a jeep, cowboy boots, cowboy hats, cattle, big houses, a larger family, and a huge menu of local dishes. More on the Texas tea as promised … Dean & I made time for an early afternoon tea on Friday. We found a tea place in the northern suburb area of Dallas/Forth Worth inside an antique mall. The weather was a mild 70 degrees, warmer than it had been in St. Louis. I was hot after touring the Fort Worth stockyards and happen upon a livestock auction. A cup of hot tea wouldn’t do, though iced tea was served at this establishment with raspberry as the flavor of the day. Simplicitea had all the charm of a small tea house, minus an excellent glass of iced tea. Not homemade, as I did not experience plump flavorful berries in the taste or texture. Disappointed there. Though where their iced tea falls short, their quiche of the day, bacon asparagus and an elegant dessert, orange dream cake ranked high with us! The quiche had a smokey flavor with crisp asparagus tips. And the cake burst with citrus! There were actual bits of orange in the cake, whipping cream between and atop the cake layers, and swirls of orange zest garnished the delicious dessert.
Yes, the quote from “Texas Tea (Part One)” post is a rather bold statement, yet mostly true. The people of Texas love to brag, “the bigger the better”. And Texans love to eat! Therefore, they believe “Texas does not, like any other region, simply have indigenous dishes. It proclaims them…” Many are foodies, and not just foodies, but locavores. They savor local foods and are proud of their creations.
Two of the three dinners we had this vacation weekend included some type of corn dish. At the BBQ on Friday night, a cold corn salad was served as a side dish to beef brisket, pulled pork, and sausage. Other sides accompanied, but the corn salad scored #1! I did not see any green at this meal, other than the green chilis in a dip. Beer, wine, and spirits flowed endlessly amongst the family in the home of one of Dean’s cousins. On Saturday the 80th birthday party for Dean’s aunt was held at her youngest son’s well-decorated home. Hors d’oeuvres were catered as the main entree. Thinly sliced roast beef wrapping a blanched asparagus tip & red sweet bell pepper strip was my favorite followed by another fruity cake, strawberry. Flecks of berries dazzled the birthday girl and 100+ guests. Very luscious! And then there is Babes in downtown Arlington, a famous fried chicken eatery with all the fine fixins including a warm corn dish. Sunday’s dinner was mounds of crispy chicken with creamy mashed potatoes, milk gravy, bacon-smothered fava beans, and herb biscuits with sorghum and honey … no dessert necessary! The ambiance took us away from urban Texas, back 80 years in a small, simple town with a porch light and swing. I am sharing a photo of the warm Grandma’s Corn dish from Babes found on their website. Let me know if you find a recipe that mimics this dish. I, too will do likewise.

Texas Tea (Part 1)

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“Texas does not, like any other region, simply have indigenous dishes. It proclaims them. It congratulates you, on your arrival to having escaped from the slop pails of the other 49 states.” ~ Alistair Cooke ~ Quite a bold statement about the culinary creations in Texas considering the wonderful Italian pasta dishes on The Hill in St. Louis to the creamy seafood bisque found along the Oregon coast to the smoked northern pike in Minnesota. Texas is where Dean & I are headed for a mini vacation to inhale some sunshine and reunite with the Gall cousins. The family is celebrating his aunt’s 80th birthday on Saturday. We fly into Dallas/Ft. Worth tomorrow afternoon. So when you think of Texas food, do you think of huge sirloin steaks smothered with spicy BBQ sauce or keg of beer or Tex-Mex chili? Well, I think “Texas tea”. No, not the kind of “Texas tea” from Beverly Hillbillies. I am envisioning seated in a tea room sipping on a cup of rose tea and savoring a freshly baked herb scone surrounded with potted geraniums, English ivy,and lace tablecloths. Why? I am not sure, other than I am a romantic at heart. Don’t get me wrong, I love the outdoor life, earth, farming, critters, blue jeans, and cowgirl boots. But the more refined me, likes to wear a simple floral dress or blouse/skirt duo with a lace sweater and slight heels while visiting a local tea room establishment. So Dean & I will find such a vignette in Arlington/Ft. Worth area this weekend. I will write about our discoveries in “Texas Tea (Part 2)”. Maybe a recipe or two will be revealed as well.
Texas

Your Fence or Wall?

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Fence
Robert Frost wrote a poem called “Mending Wall”.
Something there is that doesn’t love a wall,
That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it,
And spills the upper boulders in the sun;
And makes gaps even two can pass abreast.
The work of hunters is another thing:
I have come after them and made repair
Where they have left not one stone on stone,
But they would have the rabbit out of hiding,
To please the yelping dogs. The gaps I mean,
No one has seen them made or heard them made,
But at spring mending-time we find them there.
I let my neighbor know beyond the hill;
And on a day we meet to walk the line
And set the wall between us once again.
We keep the wall between us as we go.
To each the boulders that have fallen to each.
And some are loaves and some so nearly balls
We have to use a spell to make them balance:
“Stay where you are until our backs are turned!”
We wear our fingers rough with handling them.
Oh, just another kind of outdoor game,
One on a side. It comes to little more:
He is all pine and I am apple-orchard.
My apple trees will never get across
And eat the cones under his pines, I tell him.
He only says, “Good fences make good neighbors.”
Spring is the mischief in me, and I wonder
If I could put a notion in his head:
“Why do they make good neighbors? Isn’t it
Where there are cows? But here there are no cows.
Before I built a wall I’d ask to know
What I was walling in or walling out,
And to whom I was like to give offence.
Something there is that doesn’t love a wall,
That wants it down!” I could say “Elves” to him,
But it’s not elves exactly, and I’d rather
He said it for himself. I see him there,
Bringing a stone grasped firmly by the top
In each hand, like an old-stone savage armed.
He moves in darkness as it seems to me,
Not of woods only and the shade of trees.
He will not go behind his father’s saying,
And he likes having thought of it so well
He says again, “Good fences make good neighbors.”

This poem says much, which can be condensed with the old Czech saying, “Do not protect yourself by a fence, but rather by your friends.” I would rather have friends than fences and walls, wouldn’t you? So much strife and bitterness amongst people, and the violence is horrible. Dean & I have a place we go where fences are not necessary, except clever ones to keep the deer out. It is Boone Hollow Farm in Defiance, Missouri. It is where our greenhouse takes home. There are no fences or walls to divide the lots between tenants, we each just know where our own spot begins and ends. Even our dog, Midnight knows. Caring and sharing is the attitude, so refreshing. I anticipate a great growing season, growing herbs and vegetables as well as friendships in this community.