Category Archives: critter

Sprouts Of Green

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One month ago we had a 40 or 50 degree day, where I was able to withstand the semi-heated garage to plant our geranium cuttings in some make-do soil. The organic soil was not a fresh bag, and not sure how long it sat in our garage. I added some sand to loosen it. Miracles happen. Most of the cuttings have sprouted new green leaves while seated on a warming mat and under plant lights. A natural fertilizer of fish emulsion will be applied this week. I hope to design some planters in about 2 months, in time for blooming spring gifts. I feel behind on some of my other propogating projects. I have zinnia and other cutting flower seeds to sow as well as herb and vegetable plants, and the gourds. The peas I savor should have sprouted already, but better late than never to sow. Emily Dickinson describes “how luscious lies the pea within the pod.” I can almost taste the juicy plumposity of those fresh picked peas! Non-GMO seeds and good organic soil is in the plans for my weekend purchases. I rarely seek fashion stores for my weekend shopping. It is antique, novelty, and garden shops I love to find the bargains for my creative green projects. Maybe I can actually get some sowing completed from my kitchen, then place the trays on the heating mats in the garage. The weather forecast is ice, sleet, and snow this weekend. The homegrown spring peas will evenually come …

A Songbird’s Spring

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Dean and I visited The National Quilt Museum in Paducah, Kentucky. One quilt square made by a 9th-12th grade student was entitled “My Songbird”. The breast and belly of the bird was an artsy music note while the body had sheet music flowing into and out of the wings giving the illusion of flying. This quilt left an impression on my heart, the soul purpose of an art form. “A bird does not sing because it has an answer. It sings because it has a song”, an old Chinese saying I remember. I recall reading a book written by an artist who explained how to keep the creative juices flowing. Besides the routine practice of the art, an artist, musician, writer, or chef needs to surround themselves in beauty once a week for at least an hour, away from distractions. This can take place at a museum, library, garden, or in a city park. Beauty is everywhere. The repetitive motion of going to one quilted beauty after another, soothed my soul. “Garden Stars”, “Star Struck”, “Organic Garden”, “The Charm Of Small Pink Roses”, “Lime Light”, “Splendor In The Grass”, and “Instrument Of Praise” displayed wonderfully some of my favorite things in life. Each quilt told a story or captured color in stitches.

This morning a songbird’s tweets greet Dean and I as we left for work. A refreshing sound! The day’s spring-like showers and thunderstorms will replace the snow and ice we have experienced for over 7 weeks in Missouri. I embrace warmer temperatures with open arms like I did during our 3 days in Paducah earlier this week. Today, a morning, mid-day, and afternnon outdoor walk betweeen raindrops will suffice. Alleluia, multiple layers of clothes, hats, gloves, scarves, and coats stripped off! Freedom! 70 degrees this afternoon! I will take this pseudo spring. Tonight’s nightfall winds blow in colder air once again.
The trip to Paducah proved that my swollen body, every aching joint, and chest pain was due to the cold weather. All those symptoms had subsided during our getaway. We returned home this week to milder temperatures, so symptoms have not returned. In the past 5 weeks, I had a visit to the urgent care, the ER, my primary care’s office, and outpatient care. Blood tests, x-rays, and two nuclear heart tests showed I have a healthy heart and lungs. Thank you, Father! My body was reacting to the multiple days of frigid cold air. In case winter returns with venegence this month or the next winter season, I see the allergist/immunologist next week to discuss a more proactive approach to the cold-induced angiodema. I will hear out what the specialist says, though one local herbalist suggested a holistic remedy: 1 teaspoon of cayenne pepper 3 times a day to lessen the effects of winter’s cold air. I need to grow some cayenne peppers this year. Unfortunately, the meteorologists say the earth goes through 100-year cycles, and we are now in a severe winter cycle. God, please no! I must keep in mind,“No matter how long the winter, spring is sure to follow.” ~ Proverb from Guinea.

Pray Tell

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Cardinal Thinks Spring Groundhog Cartoon
Pray tell me spring is only 2 weeks away, you old groundhog! Not 6 weeks away?! I cannot take much more of this frozen precipitation and arctic winds! Physically or mentally! I think hell froze over.
Sign Frozen
Icy roads again this snowy night. Trucks jack-knived off the highways coming home from our Farmington family visit. Warming stations once again are set up in the community this week. If I wanted to live up North I would move there. I chose to live in Missouri where the winters are suppose to be a bit milder. Relocation to a warmer destination may be warranted in the nearer future.
North Pole Traveler

Little And Bigger Miracles

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This year of 2014, January 6 was one of the subzero winter days, coldest in 20 years. Dean and I’s full-time jobs were cancelled for the day. Miracles, one of our bigger Christmas cacti bloomed on this day of the Epiphany. The Feast of the Epiphany is “a Christian feast day that celebrates the revelation of God the Son as a human being in Jesus Christ,” Wikipedia states. The beautiful red bloom of our kitchen cacti brightened my day while getting well again. Snuckered inside, I could have viewed the circumstances as stuck inside. But I far rather be indoors than out during the negative temp days of this winter. My face became puffy, moon-shaped during this subzero spell like a squirrel with a stash of acorns tucked in his cheeks. The cold air I encountered for brief moments getting into the car or letting our labrador/flat-coat retriever inside from his white outdoor haven caused this allergen reaction. Yes, I am allergic to the cold, cold air or water. Weird! While indoors for 3 days, I spent quiet time with my hubby or by myself.
Today, 6 days later, it is 60 degrees warmer! The 12″ of snow has melted, with shrinken dirty piles at the end of parking lots and along the curbs now. Our Midnight comes inside from the yard muddy. My face is finally normal size, I can see the outline of my cheek bones in the mirror once again. The antibiotics my doctor finally ordered are healing my sinus infection. Our garage tomato plants continue to have blossoms and fruit produced despite the frigid cold air a few days ago. The plant lights and oil heater must keep the plants warm enough in their winter home. My plants are daily reminders of little miracles. At Church this morning we sang “The Bread of Life” by Rory Cooney. A reminder of the bigger miracles …

I myself am the bread of life.
You and I are the bread of life.
Taken and blessed, broken and shared by Christ
That the world might live.

This bread is spirit, gift of the Maker’s love,
and we who share it know that we can be one:
a living sign of God in Christ.

Here is God’s kingdom given to us as food.
This is our body, this is our blood:
a living sign of God in Christ.

Lives broken open, stories shared aloud,
Become a banquet, a shelter for the world:
a living sign of God in Christ.

Snuckered In

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SnowflakesThe midwest blizzard and subzero temperatures have Dean and I snuckered in the past two days. Recovering from an upper respiratory infection, the cold air has kept me inside with hot herbal tea, fresh baked scones, fragrant glowing candles, and the love of my husband to keep my body and soul warm. Home is the place to be. Business comes to a halt as most offices are closed. We can choose to be stifled or set free. Cannot deny the snow is so beautiful, perfectly white. Snowflakes patterned a glittery shooting star on the kitchen window. Neighborhood Eurasian tree sparrows discover our cedar wreath blown under our wagon as a shelter. The berries fed our feathered friends. Photos were captured with Dean’s new digital camera. And then our red adirondack chairs contrasting with the white. The sunshine and wind cast everchanging shadows with snow drifts. Cannot wait to see the photos. “Photography… it’s the way to educate your eyes, stare, pry, listen, eavesdrop …” St. Louis born photographer Walker Evans has been quoted. We did not have to go for a hike in the country today as our home’s window panes framed the wintery scenes.

Old And Then The New

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MultiWineBottles
The happenings of today and all the yesterdays of 2013 culminate this evening. My memory fails me with the many whirlwind days of 2013, but this Word Press blog helps me recall as I read the posts. By nature I am a planner, though my heart wants to live the present day and reflect on the goodness of yesterday. Gratitude overtakes me. I have slowed down this past week, taking time off my jobs. Dean and I spent time with family in quaint settings as well as bigger celebrations during the holidays which bring much joy to our hearts. We visited our greenhouse at Boone Hollow Farm in Defiance this sunny, yet crisp afternoon. Quiet reflection. The sounds of the countryside on New Year’s Eve Day. Song birds chatter while gathering field seeds, the owl hoots “hello” in hopes to bring the night sky sooner, and the livestock holler for their last feeding of 2013. What will 2014 bring?
Three weddings in 2014 promise to keep Dean and I busy with his three grown children and their fiancees. More visits with my grandchildren in 2014. Life is too short. In 2014 our greenhouse and screenhouse will house more organic vegetables and herbs for our personal health. We will plant a flower garden for our personal pleasure, and add gems and stones my father collected, and colorful wine bottles I collected as a border. Less farmer market dates, though autumn we hope to feature more Deanna Greens And Garden Art gourds. I will dabble with paints and carving tools to create works of art with our 2013 gourds. Most have weathered well. My full-time occupation in employee wellness will undergo some changes … New sights and sounds for Dean and I to explore together.
“Life begins each morning…Each morning is the open door to a new world – new vistas, new aims, new tryings.” ~ Leigh Hodges

Bleak Mid-Winter

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the bleak mid-winter / Frosty wind made moan, / Earth stood hard as iron, / Water like a stone;/ Snow had fallen, snow on snow,/ Snow on snow, / In the bleak mid-winter / Long ago.
Our God, Heaven cannot hold Him / Nor earth sustain; / Heaven and earth shall flee away / When He comes to reign: / In the bleak mid-winter / A stable-place sufficed / The Lord God Almighty, / Jesus Christ.
Enough for Him, whom cherubim / Worship night and day, / A breastful of milk / And a mangerful of hay; / Enough for Him, whom angels / Fall down before, / The ox and ass and camel / Which adore.
Angels and archangels / May have gathered there, / Cherubim and seraphim / Thronged the air, / But only His mother / In her maiden bliss, / Worshipped the Beloved / With a kiss.
What can I give Him, / Poor as I am? / If I were a shepherd / I would bring a lamb, / If I were a wise man / I would do my part, / Yet what I can I give Him, / Give my heart.
These are the words from the poem In The Bleak Midwinter by poet Christina Rossetti, which her lyrics have made a lovely Christmas carol since the early 1900’s.
Work, work, work, and then rest. Warm, cold, warm, cold, cold … the seasons of life, some shorter than others.
The calendar says it is 3 days into winter, though the freezing cold has been around for weeks now. This week I have experienced some brief moments for reflection and observance to the reason for this Christmas season. This Sunday church attendance had picked up and we arrived just as the bells chimed, to find the pews filled. The 4th Sunday of Advent, Dean and I seated ourselves in the balcony of our 190-year old gothic-style church near the choir. The view was like of a bird’s-eye, watching as other late comers found a space or two to join the congregation while the purple vestments of the priest and deacon glittered at the altar. The most touching was the worshippers coming forth for communion, with Dean and I to join by the grace of God to commune with Him.
The song above Bleak Mid-Winter played overhead while sitting at a large novelty store. This is our last chance for shopping before Christmas gatherings. My tired feet and I awaited while my Dean was in search of the right gift for my son and son-in-law. My feet ached after standing for 7-8 hours at the spice shoppe, so I found a bit of solace in a quiet corner surrounded by books, novelities, and shoppers. Reflections of the lyrics brought me to Him. Whether it be the pure white snow, a shining star on a clear winter night, sharing intimate communion with others, or sitting in a store quietly, all and many more opportunities draw us to our Heavenly Father and His Son, Jesus Christ. He dwells amongst us. Merry Christmas to you, and may you know the gift of love and peace through Jesus Christ.

Wintertime Occupation

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While our flat-coat/Labrador retriever mix perused the yard, sleety stuff pelted his double-layer coat this morning. Midnight’s forlorn gaze while Dean and I left for work today tells me we are in for the winter storm the meteorologists predicted a few days ago. Midnight loves this winter precipitation, so being indoors is not his idea for fun. Me, I hate being in this freezing weather due to my cold allergy. Those were the days of sledding and warming bonfires…
So other wintertime occupations have started indoors for me. Watching love birds sharing seeds with each other, along with the holiday movies and music specials, Scrabble games, and reading library books on snowy evenings are what I have in mind this week and the many others this long winter. And what about the wintertime foods and drinks? Well, that is all a part of it, too. Warming soups and pastas. Tea time every day at work. Tonight, Dean and I will indulge in some Bailey’s Irish creme while in front of the blazing fire of our kitchen fireplace. We will finish up the list of guests for the weddings next year. All three of Dean’s children are to be wedded in 2014! Maybe we will chat about our garden dreams for next year, as we cannot solve the cares of our jobs and of this world … “We have learned that more of the ‘earth-earthiness’ would solve our social problems, remove many ‘isms’ from our vocabulary, and purify our art. And so we often wish that those who interpret life for us by pen or brush would buy a trowel and pack of seeds.” ~ Ruth R. Blodgett.

Plumposity

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The birthday trip to Chicago this past Thursday and Friday was great! On Thursday night Brian Setzer and Orchestra gave a Christmas concert to remember for our lives. The big band or rockabilly Setzer-style to favorite holiday tunes set our feet a dancing. The show was held at the beautiful, classy Rialto Theatre in Joliet, Illinois. Dean and I were dazzled by the spirit, sounds, and sights of the holidays. On Friday the birthday boy and I ventured to the big city. After finding a parking space (which cost more than our lunch!), we met up with his younger brother and dined at a downtown Chicago pizzeria called Lou Malnati’s. Scrumptious, delicious Italian fare! This eatery described the Roma tomatoes as “plumposity” for the sauce in their signature deep dish pizza. “Plumposity” might be another word for “pleasing plump”, as some men describe how they like their women. My hubby included. Or the “plumposity” of a freshly picked crisp apple as you bite into, it squirts juice down your hand. Or the “plumposity” of the Cherokee purple tomatoes I indulge in still with our tomato plants under plant lights in the semi-heated garage. But the word definitely describes the Roma tomatoes used on this classic Chicago-style pizza. “It’s difficult to think anything but pleasant thoughts while eating a homegrown tomato,” quoting Southern comedian, Lewis Grizzard. Culture shocked for a couple of hours, we then battled the traffic headed out of the city into the suburbs. We visited with my cousin and her husband over a home-cooked meal, before heading back home on a 5-hour drive. A blitz trip, and now we are back to prepare for 5 more adults and 4 more dogs staying for the Thanksgiving weekend, with more family for a pasta dinner Saturday night. Now I am thinking this new-found word might describe the effects of a traditional Thanksgiving dinner. Yes, this weekend I think our home will experience “plumposity”, an overflow of holiday indulgence and family!

Whirl Wind Day

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Frozen Leaves
“Dull November brings the blast,
Then the leaves are whirling fast.”

~ Sara Coleridge

Veterans Day means another day off for the government worker. In the past, Dean and I have used this day for a long weekend trip, catch up on doctors’ appointments, and/or chores around the house or greenhouse. This year the whirl wind day encompassed doctors’ appointments for all three of us. The cold air literally blew in while we traveled 1 hour north for our labrador’s annual veterinary exam. We visited my father’s cementary site. Old flowers withered and brown, and I forgot to bring a sprig or two of colorful leaves and mums, Dad’s favorite flower. Not sure the wind would have allowed them to stay. The whirl winds brought the last of the leaves down, and a stark-gray filled this November afternoon. It followed us back to St. Charles County, Missouri.
My youngest daughter is in the hospital once again with major back issues. We make our way over to their apartment to watch after the two grandkids when they arrive home from school while our son-in-law stays with my daughter at the hospital. A congenial disorder she found out a few days ago, same as her older sister. My heart aches. A mother despises the pain her child is in no matter how old the child is. A sense of comfort envelopes me as I spend time with Libby and Brendan. The grace of God is evident in this family. We gathered under fleece throws while watching a Disney classic. The wind whipped about outside the patio window, frozen leaves nestled in the corner of the deck. Their three cats take turns for a gander as the howls come and go all evening. Spits of snow tell us winter will follow this whirl wind day. Good-bye autumn, my achey joints are not ready for winter yet.