Category Archives: Dean

How My Garden Grows These Days

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For this growing season all my gardening is container gardening, and this has been Dean and I’s exclusive type of gardening for the past three growing seasons. July’s squelching heat has me watering my porch herbs every other day. Despite (or because of) the hot summer, the pineapple sage is humongous. I will repot this plant after the weather cools a bit. The plants suffer enough without going through transplant shock during this hot season. Snippets of herbs are added to my summer dishes and iced teas which bring refreshment to the taste buds.

From time to time, I get a request for more information about gardening. I had a marketing person from Refin real estate company ask for my input on patio gardens. Here is the Rent.com article written, some of the content are some tips I shared. Take a few minutes to read this article: https://www.rent.com/blog/balcony-herb-garden/. Personally, I would like to try again some lettuce greens and microgreens in some pots. It is too hot to sow seeds now, maybe early September. Definitely, I can try in next year’s growing season.

This June’s Bipolar Nature

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This June’s Bipolar Nature

What magnificent spring weather we have relished in these past three months in Missouri. In my recollection it has been many years since we have experienced three full months of spring. Typically, in these parts of Missouri, it is a long winter with a rushed four weeks of spring, then right into the heat of summer. According to the weather forecasters, that heat of the summer comes this weekend. With this true spring has come thunderstorms and tornadoes. The weather has a bipolar nature. The damaging winds wreaked havoc in the St. Louis area more than once. The city has not seen such devastation in over 50 years. Recovery is day by day.

Dean and I have a huge, 50 – 60-year-old tulip poplar tree in our backyard which became victim to a pop-up thunderstorm a couple of evenings ago. It lost three medium to big-sized branches which landed between our house and the neighbor church building. Believe me, there are plenty of other branches for its survival. Today, I spent about an hour picking up small branches in the backyard and found a few in the front yard. My injured back only allows so much bending over, and it starts talking to me. I stopped before it started screaming at me. Dean has his various sized saws in use, binding up the large branches cut to 5-foot length as required by our trash company, and the smaller branches going in our lawn refuse totes and lawn bags.

A June respite comes with the mild temperature days. Some resting, meditating, reading, and writing this month. I have to thank God we are safe after each storm. Damaging gutters and roofs can be fixed and clean-up long, but Dean and I are safe and are generally in good health. I facilitated a writers’ workshop in Clarksville, Tennessee earlier this month. The six ladies gleaned much from this workshop where my co-facilitator and I emphasized the importance of observing with all seven senses. Yes, there are seven senses identified now. The traditional five are sight, smell, taste, hearing, touch. The two others are vestibular, associated with movement and balance, and proprioception allows a person to associate one’s own body with space. These last two are related to touch. I will mention there is a spiritual sense, which would make eight senses total for those who are believers.

“A comfortable breezy June morning … The clover is now in its glory. Whole fields are rosed with it, mixed with sorrel, and looking deeper than it is. It makes fields look luxuriant which are really thinly clad. The air is full of its sweet fragrance… These are the clover days.” Henry Thoreau

Thoreau wrote several lines in his journal on June 19, 1852, mentioning many other types of vegetation such as the crops of corn and potatoes, berries on the vines with anticipation of their ripening, even mildew and fungus he writes about. Several birds are included in his journal. He doesn’t miss any of the details and uses all his senses in his writings. Midway in this journal entry Thoreau mentions clover in three sentences and concludes with “the clover days” of June.  I have seen clover growing prolifically this month. The honeybees love clover, which makes for healthy gardens. The bees will come if the chemicals are not used. Folks, keep it organic like in Thoreau’s time. Keep all those senses stimulated. And journal your experiences.

Connection

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Connection

Connection, connections. “I got connections”. Many made during the Clarksville Writers’ Conference. I, along with about 100 other ladies and gentlemen listened to words, shared words, made the connection in our minds on next steps as writers, and connected with each other as friends. Many seeds were sown this week for such purposeful, beneficial blooms of the future. The workshop “Seeds For Your Word Gardens” I co-facilitated with Shana Thornton, publisher, author, and historian. We had some terrific writers eager to learn from each other. What an experience! Dean went with. We reserved through Airbnb and had a cozy basement apartment out in the country with deer, wood thrush, and morning and evening fog near the Cumberland River. This foodie and spouse love the local eateries. Found a wonderful Thai place and coffee & tea space. We heard the Nashville Symphony one lovely evening. My husband had some much-needed rest, took some awesome photos (some shared here), and together we met some friendly folks connected to the writers’ conference or this river town. Please join us next year. Take the last train to Clarksville, Tennessee to attend this writer’s or learning-to-be-a-writer conference on June 2 – 5.

“All flourishing is mutual.” ~ Robin Wall Kimmerer

Your Kiss Is On My List

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Your Kiss Is On My List

There are so many love songs, lyrics that touch the heart. Some melodramas, some heartaches, and others about lasting love. What is your favorite love song? Your Kiss Is On My List is the one playing in my head this Valentine’s season. I even found a little Valentine card for Dean with these words. This long Valentine weekend makes for a festive celebration for more than one day. Reservations at the restaurants are slim pickings. So going simple made Dean and I’s evening just right with a carry-out heart-shaped pizza from Papa John’s, chocolates, cookies, and sweet Valentine messages. Practical and thrifty is what we both are becoming in our older age. We just returned from a 9-day trip to the midwestern south last weekend, spent enough on our vacation. More little Valentine gifts were shared with the kids, grandkids, and friends. I hope you shared some love with your family, friends, co-workers, neighbors, and fur babies.

Preserved Love by Anna Gall   
Subtle, sweet, the simplicity of a stemmed, thornless rose. A single long-stem red rose given for Valentine’s Day. Another for our anniversary. And then another for my birthday. He remembers those special days with a single rose. The color will change from one special day to another. Maybe based on his mood, or mine. Whether red, pink, purple, white, or yellow, the gift is always given with tender love in the simplest form and received with gratitude and mutual love. Sometimes included are the sweet nothings whispered in my ear or scribbled on a note.  
After three or four days admiring the rose’s loveliness, the rose is taken to the basement and pinned upside down from the clothesline to dry. On occasion a bouquet with multiple roses is given to celebrate a special event. Or it might be a sign of truce after a squabble, or forgiveness for something more offensive. Soaking in the kind gesture for three or four days, the whole bouquet is turned upside down, twine wrapped around the stems tight, and hung to dry like the single rose. The preservation of a bouquet takes longer. Its sacredness all the same. Over the years dried rose bouquets gather in vases and dried rose petal potpourri fill mason jars. These floral displays are situated in prominent places in our historic cottage home. One antique ceramic vase given by a beloved brother now gone from this life holds a dozen pinkish buds above a shelf of family photos. Another bouquet of dried purple roses and baby red rosehips grace the guest bedroom near a quart mason jar wrapped in a white netting ribbon filled with withered pinkish rose petals and baby’s breathe. Preserved deep red roses are seated in a short clear glass vase at the base of Mother Mary’s statue. The rose, a symbol of love, romance, beauty, purity, courage, and virtue. Its vibrant color tells the story, its fragile condition continues that story with each petal. Thousands over the years, match the love that will last a thousand years or more. Well beyond this earthly life.  

The baby shower for our granddaughter, Hannah and her fiancé, Jay was a great celebration on Saturday. Held in DeSoto at the CIA Hall, made for a full day with set-up, preps, games, gift opening, and clean-up. The woodland theme was quite cute. Yes, I am going to be a great-grandmother in April. I hope my great-grandson will call me “GG Anna”. It’s much easier to say this name rather than great-grandmother as well it just doesn’t sound as “old”. I’m not in denial, I know I am getting older. My body reminds me of this every day, arthritis, required good eating habits, meds every morning and night, and bedtime about 9:00pm. Speaking of, it’s that time. Tomorrow, I have 75 meals-on-wheels clients to feed and another 20 in the dining room of the senior center I work at. I work a half day every weekday and get my nap in almost every afternoon. A nap has been a regular occasion since my young motherhood and will continue well into my great-grandmother years.

Sow A Seed in 2025

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Sow A Seed in 2025

The word I picked for 2024 was “present”. Be present each moment and treat each day as a present or gift from God. Many moments of my days I was fully present. I had quality time in prayer. Moments spent with a cup of tea, watching the birds at the feeders, the bees and dragonflies on the pineapple sage, lemon thyme, and mint plants. More family time whether planned or took the opportunity as it came about with my oldest daughter, youngest grandson, and my cousin and her husband as they all relocated to St. Charles. Many days were spent writing, being present moment to finish my 162-page memoir (before photos) on my culinary life as well a mini book of 49 Haikus entitled “Balancing The Seesaw”. But there were plenty of other days not so much present moment, as I did too much regretting the past or fretting about tomorrow. I missed out on the blessings of those days.

“Drink your tea slowly and reverently, as if it is the axis on which the world earth revolves – slowly, evenly, without rushing toward the future; live the actual moment. Only this moment is life.” ~ Thich Nhat Hanh 

In late February Dean and I took a trip to Hilton Head Island, South Carolina and Savannah, Georgia. I had been sick most of the frigid January and equally cold February but instantly felt better when we got into warmer weather and the sea breeze. Somehow, we need to make these 9 or 10 days stretch for 8 weeks. Maybe when we both are fully retired? That is at least 2 more winters after this one. The sinus infections and bronchitis lingered for weeks, with vertigo and inner ear migraines to follow. It was not until July after physical therapy and a prescription regiment that I felt normal again. This allergy to the cold is getting worse, not better as I get older.

“May this winter be gentle and kind – a season of rest from the wheel of the mind.” ~ John Geddes

Other trips were to Eureka Springs, Arkansas for a springtime culinary & writing workshop I presented at the Writers’ Colony at Dairy Hollow. We had multiple trips to the Kansas City side of the state to clean out Dean’s parents’ home of 50 years and place it on the market. It sold in June, and our weekend trips to Kansas City subsided the 2nd half of the year with occasional visits to see 2 of Dean’s kids and their families. We had a Labor Day trip to Jefferson City for a meeting place after Dean’s oldest granddaughter spent the weekend with us. Beautiful autumn family photos were taken in October near Dean’s daughter’s house. Three other travel destinations in 2024: a writers’ conference in Clarksville, Tennessee in June, a long August weekend in Branson with Dean’s kids and grandkids, and a flood relief trip to Asheville, North Carolina in November. The writers’ conference was excellent. The writers’ group that formed after the conference in 2023 provoke me to keep writing. We always have a good time in Branson. The Asheville trip proved productive taking donated winter clothing and blankets for the flood victims after Hurricane Helene left such destruction. We made new friends with our Airbnb hosts who coached us on non-profit groups to work with while in town.

“The area holds a magnetism beyond words.” ~ Country Cottage Living about Asheville, NC

I suppose the biggest surprise for 2024 was the death of my oldest brother, Rick. He suffered a heart incident on December 1 after arriving back at the local airport from a Thanksgiving trip to see his oldest son and family in Seattle. He never recovered after 10 days on life support. A young 65-years old, it seems Rick left this earth too soon. Jesus must have wanted him there in Heaven, where we all want to be once we pass on from this earthly life. Rick spent hours of research in his first 2 years of retirement and left an unfinished book about the men of the Lewis & Clark expedition. Dean and his love of archival history may be of assistance in the finishing of Rick’s book. My sister-in-law, Joan has this project in the plans for the near future. I miss my brother.

“The shadow side of love is always loss, and grief is only love’s own twin.” ~ Margaret Renkl

Dean and I’s occupations remain the same, Dean as an archival technician at The National Archives, and Anna as a culinary professional at Aging Ahead. This autumn I joined a women’s group, the local chapter of Epsilon Sigma Alpha (ESA). We serve the St. Jude Foundation, veteran, and local charitable organizations with fundraising and recognition efforts. These fellow sisters donated items for the Asheville victims. They were also there to comfort me after my brother’s untimely death. I look forward to building friendships while at our fundraisers and social events. Dean as well as other husbands assist from time to time. On occasion we make it to the DeSoto CIA and community events to support our friends.

“The lesson which life repeats and constantly reinforces it, ‘look under foot’. You are always nearer the divine and the true sources of power than you think.” ~ John Burroughs

Texas is on our radar for a few days this February to escape the Missouri winter tundra and weather. Soon after we will be welcoming our first great-grandchild into the world. My oldest granddaughter and her fiancé are due late March. Early June I will be presenting a workshop on block-out poetry and ekphrastic poetry at the Clarksville Writers’ Conference. The theme is on gardening, my favorite subject to write and talk about. A destination for admiring the more flowers, woods, and sunsets is planned for September.

“A seed neither fears light or darkness but uses both to grow.” – Matshona Dhliwayo

I promise to read for 25 minutes a day in 2025. My word for 2025 is “seed”. At the end of 2025 we will have lived a quarter of a century into the current millennium. Where does the time go? I dare say I have been busy, but maybe not busy enough with what really matters. Maybe I can make this 25th year count for what is truly worth the energy and time I expend. Sow a seed with a kind and sincere word; help with making the air fresh and the water clean; provide a garden, kisses, sheltering arms, a cozy bed, write words worth reading, and love enough for it to be returned.

“She did not need much, wanted very little. A kind word, sincerity, fresh air, clean water, a garden, kisses, books to read, sheltering arms, a cozy bed, and to love and be loved in return.” ~Starra Neely Blade

“Those who plant in tears will harvest with shouts of joy. They weep as they go to plant their seed, but they sing as they return with the harvest.” ~ Psalm 126: 5 & 6

Crispy October’s Preparations

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Crispy October’s Preparations

We have had several mornings with crisp air which means the first frost is soon. Today’s shifting air is the telltale sign. This evening’s weather forecast is predicting frost for Wednesday morning. While there is daylight, this afternoon Dean and our 14-year old grandson, Eli brought our perennials inside the basement. Wrangled are the two granddogs and grandcat to keep them inside while the yard gates and basement door swing open every few minutes for each ceramic pot brought in. We have 15 pots of greenery living in the basement for the next 5 months. One pot fell over and broke on the basement floor. Dean bought a plastic replacement pot as this arrowhead plant is ginormous. The plant light has a timer placed on it for daytime light. A garden hose is attached downstairs for watering. Unfortunately, we have no space for our green friends upstairs in our cottage home except for my small pots of kitchen herbs. This week I will snip branches off of the thyme, basil, mint, and sage plants, dry the leaves, and store in glass jars.

We have had a few family members with us this week. Canine and feline included. This morning while listening to a fellow writer group member’s TEDx talk on water footprint, she said the word “water” many times.  Not sure how many times, but it was enough to catch the attention of our visiting diabetic granddog beagle, Beatrice, who has an unquenchable thirst for water. She perked up every time she heard “water’.  We use the Spanish word, “agua” or “H2O” around this aging pet.  My daughter said it was karma for every time Beatrice barked for more water. Then this evening I started my colonoscopy prep, drinking 8 ounces of this stuff every 15 minutes until gone, 64 ounces! Beatrice is mooching for it! If this dog would only know what would be in her near future if she drank this water-based solution! I know, and I am dreading the next 8 hours! All a part of getting older! Crap, literally! Prayers, please, for these preparations and the procedure on Monday morning. There is that fall margarita I’d rather be drinking right now.

This Month’s Preoccupations

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This Month’s Preoccupations

September is finishing up nicely. Cooler weather and rain after a few very hot days in the midst of a seven-week drought in our parts of Missouri. Some humid late afternoons led into early evenings bringing huge thunderheads, and spotty rain showers. In St. Charles they didn’t produce precipitation. Our trees, shrubs, and blooms were begging for some. We watered occasionally with the garden hose, and filled the birds’ fountain a few times these parched weeks. One Friday evening while the Main Street boutiques stayed open a couple of hours later, Dean and I did some early Christmas shopping. While out we captured the sun reflecting on a huge thunderhead, creating this beautiful orange sunset. Finally, much needed rain came the past two days.

September is a few weeks away from October’s first freeze, typically mid to late October. We start preparing for the planters of perennials and herbs to come indoors. Probably next weekend for the big move as the mid-40’s is predicted for the week after next. Our ferns and arrowhead plant won’t like those low temperatures. My potted herbs are sensitive to the cold air, especially my basils. I grew Genovese Italian and Tai basils this year. I clipped their blooms a couple of weeks ago to allow them to dry on a paper towel in my kitchen. Last evening I spent an hour extracting their tiny black seeds from the Italian variety. I will take on this tedious job with the Tai variety another evening next week. I enjoy the satisfaction of growing from my own plants’ seeds and cuttings. This autumn purple asters grace our front porch. They are a lovely contrast to the nifty turquoise door as well as the orange pumpkin and front door wreath. I have to read up on how to care for them. Asters look similar to mums though have ferny-type leaves that are attractive. I have not much luck with mums, so thought to try something different this fall.

This autumn season fabric pumpkins and pillows are all the rage for me. Dean is into Halloween doodads and widgets. A stop at the antique mall last weekend was successful with reasonably priced, handmade finds for both Dean and me. We had a fun evening at the Smartt Field hangar dance last Saturday. Dressed in tropical casual, with many others in period clothing and WWII uniforms. The band was led by my OB doctor when I was pregnant with my son 31 years ago. So nice to see he is still using his musical talents as well as still active in his practice in the community. Reminds me of someone else I know, using her technical and creative skills to serve her community. I am still at it in the kitchen of our community senior center as well as writing.

How To Cook Husbands

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How To Cook Husbands

I went to the library this afternoon to do some recipe and local history research. There were interesting cookbooks introduced in the 1800’s and 1900’s. I perused a more modern book, Pot Roast, Politics, and Ants in the Pantry: Missouri’s Cookbook Heritage written in 2008 by Carol and John C. Fisher. Sizzle, sizzle. Some hot stuff. One section of this book was labeled “How To Cook Husbands”. I cannot lie about this. It is a humorous prose piece written originally in two cookbooks called The Iron County Centennial Cook Book and Pure Food Cook Book. After the type of conversation I had with my husband this morning, while reading this prose I couldn’t help to think other women must have been married to my husband in another life or someone very much like him. Yes, I wanted to cook my husband this morning. No, I have not gone nuts. Just frustrated with my man of little words, except to insult my efforts in communicating with him. I love him. Please pray for us. Communication is our challenge. As I roast him, I must mention my Dean has wonderful qualities, too.

Rather than crying, this made me laugh. Please laugh with me as I share a few lines of this prose ….

"A good many husbands are entirely spoiled by mismanagement in cooking and so are not tender and good. Some women go about it as if their husbands were bladders and blow them up. Others keep them constantly in hot water. Others let them freeze by their carelessness and indifference.  Some keep them in pickles all their lives.  It cannot be supposed that any husband will be tender and good managed in this way, but they are really delicious when properly treated ..."

What The Heart Knows As The Summer Blooms

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What The Heart Knows As The Summer Blooms

Summer can bring a frenzy of activity like the hummingbirds with their multiple flights to the sugar-water feeders. Dean is filling those feeders with his homemade recipe every 7 – 8 days. The finches and sparrows are the same with the suet blocks we put out. Fattening up, those birds of song. Summer blooms and songs all around. I read about blackberries, bees, and honey. I sit, observing from our cottage’s windows, taking it all in this week while recovering from COVID. This morning, I am feeling well enough to walk outside in the midst of the sights and sounds. Sunday’s sermon will be given courtesy of Mother’s Nature. The biscuit & gravy chef made a plate for me this morning. My last day of quarantine will be a beautiful one. How blessed I am.

While the rains water and the sun warm the earth, this is what the heart knows as the summer blooms: it is good to sit awhile to reflect and pray. I pray for my children and grandchildren. My disabled daughter who lost their house in a fire 1-1/2 years ago is living in a huge travel trailer on her husband’s family farm. Not quite the 3-bedroom house they were accustomed to. A final insurance settlement is almost completed. “Please God not another day of delay for them and give them wisdom on the best ways to spend these provisions.” My other daughter who fought and beat breast cancer in her early 30’s still struggles with brain fog after treatments. “Please God, clear her thoughts to see the next steps to take and the fortitude to walk those steps.” My son, who struggles with mental health challenges, like so many of us do. “Please God bring clarity and assurance of Your love for him. and each of us”

Take a walk in your neighborhood gardens and snap some green beans with your grandma today. I guarantee you will feel better.

Sweet Berry Kisses

Off to the blueberry bushes and blackberry brambles I am sent,

into the strawberry patch squishing overripe berries between my toes.

A painter’s palette smeared like rouge onto my cheeks

and all phalanges match my berry-stained face, lips, and tongue.

These delicious delectables satisfy my tummy’s rumbles

while the morning’s sun seals the sweet berry kisses to my lips.

Picking berries, berries, and more berries is my morning chore,

so, most make their way into Auntie’s heavy handled shiny bucket.

Pies, crisps, cobblers, buckles, and biscuits smothered with berry jams,

these Auntie anticipations as she twiddles her thumbs awaiting.

Down the garden path Auntie comes with a rabbit behind and bees a buzzing,

to lend a hand at picking plump berries into her long-handled metal pan.

Before noon into her kitchen baking oozing, finger-licking berry hand pies;

Oh, these juicy jewels create the sweetest berry kisses to my lips.

Anna Gall

May 4, 2024

Summer Weekend Rest

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Summer Weekend Rest

We are blessed to have all our children, grandchildren, and one surviving parent living in our home state, Missouri. Travel for visits with them are frequent. We had my sister in town for a week in June. The Kansas City family was in town last weekend, so some local outings were ensued and enjoyed. We spent a Sunday afternoon in Farmington to take my youngest grandson, Eli and his buddy out for lunch. We met our newest granddog, Tillie, a stray puppy with the most gorgeous blue eyes that wandered onto the farm. This week was my granddaughter, Libby’s 20th birthday, Dean and I’s14th wedding anniversary, and the 4th of July, and we chose to stay in our hometown except for yesterday. We ventured out to our favorite neighboring river towns of Hermann and Washington, MO. The recent summer rains and storms have the Missouri River up and over the banks in some places. Tributary creeks are swelling into the fields and yards as well. Some holiday activities were cancelled because of the flooding, but less fires started with fireworks. Cabooses and train stations became our entertainment.

These weekends while Dean and I are at home, we are able to get some chores done. Dean’s parent’s home sold last month, so no more emptying cabinets, drawers, purging, and throwing away. Now we sort through the treasured items Dean brought home as mementos of his childhood and heritage. He built a shelf in the basement to organize these items. The Japanese stemware his father brought home while serving in the Army will be placed in our China hutch. We added a handsome wood bench to our living room. A worktable for planting and building projects sets under the carport as well as an old tool cabinet.

Yes, somewhere in between chores, rest and relaxation have been included in our weekends. With summer travels at a minimal, it is possible. For myself, writing is relaxing. Just about every weekday afternoon after cooking for the local seniors, I get a short nap, then write until dinner needs to get started. Some evenings and weekends include writing as well. My first book, a memoir of recipes, short stories, and poems has been my primary focus these past few months. I am just about finished with it after three years of plugging away. I promise myself, one last recipe, one last short story, and then the photos. Writing can be an addiction. Dean is my first reader, then I will ask a couple of others before going to a professional editor. The publisher and the printer are to follow. I will let you know when my first book is available.