After brunch with our new dog, “Midnight” sleeping at Dean and I’s feet in the midst of grandchildren’s squeals, toys, crinkled holiday wrapping paper. Taking a surprise nap, my deceased father’s canine companion enters our lives as a surprise present this Christmas … part of my father in our midst. Duck hunting on special occasions, with many more days at the farm and greenhouse. “The poetry of the earth is never dead.” John Keats
So I relearned a neat word yesterday at the Toastmaster’s meeting, “jocund”. It means “high spirited” , “joyful”, “cheerful”, … “chirpy”, which is another appropriate word to describe the season we are in. Have you ever noticed how the birds chirp and chatter just before a cold front or snow storm comes? They are busy about filling themselves with seeds and any bugs in sight before they “hunker down” (as Farmer Dave says on the 550 AM radio station in St. Louis, Dean & I’s wake-up station every morning) to protect themselves from the cold air. Full bellies and colorful, warm feathered jackets. Serene and quiet in their nests while the world is as white as snow. Well, I think we people do the same. We chirp and chatter making this a jocund season “noisy”. Yes, lots of fuss over holiday gifts and food celebrations. What kind of noise or song are you creating? I hope it is one of good cheer, merry wishes, feeding each other good seeds, while sharing the peace, hope, and love that Jesus’ birth gave mankind. I hope for a serene and quiet moment for each of you during this jocund season! 
So these are my grandchildren, Libby, Ella, Brendan (in the back) with Eli and Hannah (in the front). Yes, they are mine alright. They are loud and rowdy when they get together, like they had not seen each other in ages and catching up with each other’s news. They see each other fairly often as their mothers are best friends and sisters. I love my grandchildren despite their loud presence. I have actually learned to relax with children as I get older. It is guaranteed, they will bring a smile to my face and make me belly laugh when I am with them. Angels they are not, unless they are sound asleep on their pillows. This photo was taken on Easter at my parents’, their great-grandparents’ home in Pike County, Missouri. Libby is a precocious 8-year old, smart as a whip, and will say things as she sees them. She is a sponge with science subjects such as plants, likes to garden and camp. Libby thinks she is the ultimate authority on some matters; therefore, it is her parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and teachers who instruct her differently with her reluctance. School of hard knocks, you know. She reminds me of her mother, my daughter Elisabeth. I adore them both. Then there is 6-year old Ella. She is one investigator, discovers and researches things. Inquiring minds want to know! She is a peaceful child, though can let stubbornness ruin “the moment” unless Mom or Dad steps in. Ella resembles me in so many ways. My Dean calls her “Mini Anna”. Then there is the 1st born grandson, my 5-year old Brendan. Reading in full sentences since age 4, on the go as a new adventure character, wrestling with Dad, yet makes time to cuddle with Mom. Now there is one long word to describe 2-year old Eli … whirlwind! Maybe another word … tornado! Eli is into everything! And definitely has those “terrible two” moments. But he will bring a smile to my face when he says “I like ‘hot cream'” rather than ‘ice cream’ or when he sits next to me and wants to read a book. Well, I just love to read to children, especially my grandchildren. And finally, there is my 1st grandchild, Hannah who will be 11-years old in November. Her nickname “bug” dubbed before she even walked fits her well. Hannah loves nature and animals, bugs included. I have a ladybug stepping stone her mother and her designed for me when she was a preschooler. Hannah is a “social bug” now, loves to be in the know of the raising teenage movie and singing stars, and has limited access to online chats. I imagine a cellular phone would be her 1st choice for a birthday or Christmas gift. See if Mom & Dad are ready for that yet!? Meantime, journaling and creating art are great outlets for her. Mine, five wonderful grandchildren!
This is everyday life on a Missouri farm for three of my grandchildren, Ella, Hannah, and Eli … their Daddy captured a quiet moment at the chicken coop, shelter for the egg-laying hens.
I wanted to share some photos my daughter took of our tropical jungle. Our front and back yards have been lovely, especially since the extreme heat has subsided. The plants are lush green flourishing in the humidty. We had a rainy Labor Day weekend bringing much needed rain to our area. God’s provisions in the midst of the longest drought in years … 
Above: Simply cuttings from our moses-in-the-cradle, swedish ivy, and sweet alyssum planted in a moss basket this spring … this planter loves our humid summer! Below: Patio plants are rearranged and changed up weekly, creating varied vignettes …
Above: A cart full of gernaniums sheltered under the shade of a huge maple tree. They need more sunlight to continue blooming. Philodrenrons, ferns, and peace lilies are scattered about the front yard landscaping. Below: A bird of paradise blooms in full color. Deanna Greens And Garden Art sold this beautiful plant at the Lake Saint Louis Farmers’ and Artist Market last Saturday during our Tropical Plant Sale. 
I felt a whisper of refreshing air last night while in the screen house repotting succulents into darling little vintage pots … maybe? Early today I stood by the opened patio door to hear the morning greetings of our feathered friends, and I felt the air change. Yes, autumn is around the corner! Every year for over 40 years, I have said those words “I felt the air change today”. I grew up watching the weather and hearing about it from my farmer father. He would read the Farmer’s Almanac, have a weather ban radio playing in his office every morning, evening, and on occasions of severe weather threats. Mostly I remember the feeling when a shift in air direction and the front would roll in with clouds and sometimes rain with it. And then the refreshing change. Awe! Autumn in 4 – 6 weeks, and saying goodbye to sizzling summer. My oldest daughter remembers these words well, too. Rachel wrote a poem about these words, her mother saying them, and autumn. And we chatted today about those words …
The woods begin to vibrate with gathering and preparation.
The sounds so crisp, electric.
Her words were “I felt the air change today.”
Red, orange, yellow, green, brown.
They dance while falling.
A choreographed waltz.
Every year she said “I felt the air change today.”
Beautiful, breathtaking, loyal.
The Canvas.
I think I felt the air change today.
The rains came twice over the weekend! It was like a miracle! And with it came cooler air, more like normal summer temps, low 90’s. We loaded our plants into the van in the wee hours Saturday morning, to make it to the Lake Saint Louis Farmer’s Market. It was storming, but I kept at it in my rain poncho and Dean with his hat. Our plants seemed happier, as well as their gardeners! Later, I trimmed sun-scorched branches from some ferns, and moved them to more shade under the dogwood tree. Sunday we repotted plants. Our tropicals are gigantic, growing as long as they have water in their roots. They thrive in this humidity. Dean & I met at the front porch on several occasions this weekend. We watched the storms come in and shared porch meals. The green ambiance allows conversation to flow. The electronic devices in the house don’t have that skill! Our hearts mesh when surrounded with nature. Whether camping, walking in the woods, and sitting on our porch bench with lovely greenery and birdhouses surround, life is simpler with plants and birds. At least, most of the time! 
“Time, you left me standing there
Like a tree growing all alone
The wind just stripped me bare
Stripped me bare
Time, the past has come and gone, gone
The future’s far away
An hour only lasts for one second, one second
Time without courage, time without fear
Is just wasted, wasted, wasted time
Oh, oh, oh, ooh ooh ooh
Time, why you punish me?”
These lyrics from Hootie and the Blowfish’s song “Time” keep playing in my mind tonight. This post is continuation of my thoughts in my last post written 5 hours ago. I cried when I walked upon that boat dock at Island Lake last week. I felt my father’s spirit with me, though in body he could not be there with me. Valhalla was Dad’s favorite place to do his favorite thing, fish. Such an appropriate name. “Valhalla” is the Viking’s heaven after he dies from warfare. My father has been fighting such a battle. Dad’s days are running short. He is dying of brain cancer, and I keep thinking about his life. Dean & I visited his father, my 96-year old grandfather last evening. Grandpa Earl tells us stories of his childhood and my father’s childhood. Yet he is cognitive enough to ask about his oldest son, my father. A copy of a photo arrived in the mail today from my cousin. A 1945 family portrait of my Grandpa Earl, Grandma Anna, Dad, and Uncle Earl. Mom called this evening on the way home from work. A hospital bed is being delivered to their Bowling Green home. Yes, the bed my father will be in when he passes from this life. God, I am so thankful for my father, Martin Kenneth Bates. He has been strength to this family for many years. And now we are his strength. He will be with You soon. And I will miss him greatly. I do not want pain for him, just Your peace, comfort, and rest.
My Dean & I so enjoyed our stay at Valhalla Resort on Island Lake outside of Detroit Lakes, Minnesota. It was a peaceful vacation, time to slow down our pace. Our stay included meals with friends, walks, swims, and fireside chats with tales of old. Friends shared stories of our childhood sparking laughter one after the other. One evening turned into a 1:00am departure from the dwindling campfire. A night owl called to us, or maybe he was talking to the rabbit hiding in the bushes. Bugs chirped. All dogs and cats had long since retired to their favorite beds. As Dean & I walked to our lakeside cabin, we saw the Milky Way. The Big Dipper shone so brightly in the clear northern sky. It brought to memory my father sitting a boat nestled near the dock for that particular summer night, telling a young audience how to tell time from The Big Dipper. My friends recalled this, too. It seemed like yesterday … Dad seemed to explain it so easily that we understood it. Here are a few web links on telling time with the stars: http://www.johnpratt.com/items/astronomy/telltime.html, http://www.av8n.com/physics/star-time.htm, http://www.physics.ucla.edu/~huffman/dtime.html
“I’m dreaming of a white Christmas …” I am! I had enough of these 100 + temp days! How about you? Well, if I cannot have a white Christmas right now, I will settle for milder summer days in the north woods of Minnesota with friends. 
Dean & I are headed there for a few days! Need to hear the loons once again!
Deanna Greens and Garden Art 