Dean & I are waiting to hear word about our access to electric for the greenhouse. According to the electric co-op, the barn down the hill may not have enough ampage to heat, circulate air, and provide light in the nightime for our 1300+ square foot greenhouse. We have redesigned the greenhouse so half will be a greenhouse (so 650 square feet needs electricity), and the other half will be a lathe or hoop house for raised beds of vegetables to grow 9 months out of the year. I wanted to have those beds made already, with a winter crop of organic spinach, garlic, and root vegetables, but family matters have taken priority. Alternative energy sources will be sought, if need be. In the meantime our plants are sheltered in two different garages with “plant lights” and space heaters to be installed this week to keep them green and alive during this transition. I dislike this in-between time, but did not have the heart to let the hard freeze kill the green life we have cared for this past year. Cannot believe, but it will be 1 year mid-November when we bought the greenhouse and adopted everything in it. Do you have any ideas for alternative energy sources in Missouri? Please share.
Category Archives: home
The Autumn Winds
… I love the year’s decline, and love
Through rustling yellow shades to range,
O’er stubble land, ’neath willow grove,
To pause upon each varied change …
Now shatter’d shades let me attend,
Reflecting look on their decline,
Where pattering leaves confess their end,
In sighing flutterings hinting mine.
For every leaf, that twirls the breeze,
May useful hints and lessons give;
The falling leaves and fading trees
Will teach and caution us to live…
These verses are from a poem “Autumn” written by John Clare (1821). I walked down the Clayton street to another building on campus for a training class this morning. I felt and heard the autumn winds in my hair and the rustling leaves. In the wind I feel my father’s presence. Autumn was his favorite season. Brain cancer did not win, as my father has eternal life with Jesus. I had to go out again at my lunch break, just so I could feel the winds and know my father is present in my day. Did you know, my Dad, you built so much of my character and personality? That steadfastness, strong, and stubborn characteristic I shared at the ceremony in your honor on Saturday, but tenacity would be another trait I forgot to mention. This greenhouse business, Deanna Greens and Garden Art is requiring tenacity. It is a sunny, warm, and blustery October day, with another cold front meeting with the current 80+ temperatures which will produce storms in a few short hours. I see the clouds coming from the west. A 40+ degree drop in temps is to come this evening. Dean & I moved many plants to safer shelter last night. Up into the wee 1:00am hour. We have been in the process of moving for weeks, and have found homes for many of our tropicals. But my potted geraniums, wandering jews, swedish ivy, and other hanging baskets needed to be someplace warm. The greenhouse rebuild has come to a halt with the question of electricity ampage for heat, fan, and light resources. Dean met with an engineer from the electric company. Our prayer is that the barn down the hill from our greenhouse has 300 amp, so we can connect. Waiting for an answer as we have permission to do so from the landlord. The side walls and plastic liner should be completed this week, delayed a week for more important matters such as my father’s funeral. See the lovely autumn canvas from my parents’ home in Pike County, the photo taken by my cousin during our gathering in Dad’s honor on Saturday.
My Father
My father’s obituary … more thoughts in a few days …
Martin K. Bates, age 76 of Bowling Green, passed away Thursday October 18, 2012, at his home. Funeral services will be held 11:00 a.m. Saturday
October 20, 2012 at the Mudd-Veach Funeral Home in Bowling Green, with Rev. DawnVictoria Mitchell officiating. Burial will be in the Memorial Gardens Cemetery in Bowling Green. Visitation for Mr. Bates will be held from 10:00 a.m. Saturday until the time of service at the funeral home.
He was born March 10, 1936, the son of Earl Kenneth and Anna Susanna Kurz Bates. He grew up in St. Louis County and on April 26, 1958 in St. Louis, he married Darlene Hudson. She survives. Also surviving are his father of St. Charles; two sons Martin Richard Bates and wife Joan of O’Fallon, Stephen Kenneth Bates of Bowling Green; two daughters
Margaret Bates of Los Banos, CA, Anna Gall and husband Dean of St. Peters; five grandchildren; 5 great grandchildren; one brother Earl F. Bates and wife Sunny of the State of Montana and one niece Julie Fait and husband Jim of Romeoville, IL. He was preceded in death by his mother,
his step-mother Paula Bates and one nephew Drew Bates.
Mr. Bates lived in St. Charles County for 43 years where he owned and operated Bates Nursery in St. Peters from 1969 to 2002 when he retired. While owning the nursery, he raised many of his own plants, and did landscaping. In 2003 he moved to Bowling Green. Martin was an avid hunter, loved his hunting dog Midnite and enjoyed training dogs. He also enjoyed woodworking and painting and sketching. He was a good husband, father and grandfather and was a member of Trinity Episcopal Church in Hannibal.
Serving as pallbearers will be Rick Bates, Steve Bates, Ian Bates, Nathan Bates, Benjamin Phelps and Dean Gall.
Memorials may be made to the Donors choice.
39 Degrees!
Brrr! It got down to 39 degrees one night this week! We found shelter for our tropicals, since the greenhouse is still being rebuilt. Our garage makes a nice make-shift greenhouse. Some tropicals have new homes already. Like that 12-foot fiddle leaf fig. It is repotted into a beautiful red ceramic pot and placed inside our parents’ condo with a cathedral ceiling, only 2 miles away. We can still care for it until we get an eager buyer. Then there is our biggest hibucus that will be transplanted into a bigger pot next week, as well as our big bird of paradise. These too will be 2 miles from us. Some of our littler tropicals make their way to my full-time workplace. We have a large foyer near the elevator with windows nearby. Deanna Greens and Garden Art plants will like their new indoor home for the autumn and winter months. Tomorrow we will have mild weather for the 1st day of autumn. I love autumn, the palette it sets. And the cooler, crisp air. Wind blowing in the leaves. The bittersweet of autumn is saying “good bye” to some of the summer flowers I have so much enjoyed in my yard. The greenhouse will be filled with green life once again in a matter of days.
Herbs, Herbs, and More Herbs
“Much Virtue in Herbs, little in Men.”
Benjamin Franklin,Poor Richard Almanac (1706 – 1790)

Deanna Greens and Garden Art will be at the Lake Saint Louis Farmers’ and Artists’ Market tomorrow morning bright and early. We are having an Herb Sale. Kitchen herbs such as sweet basil, chives, marjoram, common and pineapple sage, lemon and winter thyme growing in 3-1/2 ” terra cotta pots will go for 4 pots for the price of 3. $15. Pesticide-free. Great for your favorite autumn and winter dishes. Come buy, cook, and savor.
Everyday Life on the Farm
Sharing Life
Sharing life with those who surround me has helped me grow. Like the 12-foot fig tree we pulled from the greenhouse in May. It needed to be pulled out of the ground, taproot and all in order to move to our yard while the greenhouse is being rebuilt. Apparently, it loves the companionship of our biggest,oldest maple tree as it has shot more fresh leaves in these 4 months than it had in past 4 years. This maple tree has been struck by lightening and storm winds over the years. It is bare in some places, missing branches and foliage. Kind of “bald”, and showing its age. But it provided shelter to another plant this record high-temp summer. Sharing life. So back to me. I suppose there are days I ask “why do I care?” when a reward is not in sight such as a pay raise or guaranteed friendship. Yet, I share my lfe, talents, and hard work for the betterment of my fellow man and woman. As incomplete as I am, through Jesus I am complete. The grace of God. I want to see others grow, flourish, and bloom. I want to encourage my employees to take care of themselves, and I find joy providing the tools to do so. I want my children to love unconditionally; each other, their significant others, children, and those they are surrounded with. I want my husband to know without a doubt he is loved just the way he is. I want my grandfather, parents, and siblings to know I love them, and still need them in my life no matter how old I am. Sharing life, no matter what your circumstances, condition, or age you are in, is worth it. Watch how others grow … and yourself.
Sliver of Pink
At dusk the sunset shown scattered slivers of pink while driving to St. Charles County from Pike County. It reminded me of the sliver of pink on my father’s cheeks Grandpa pointed out while he and I visited Dad last evening. My 97-year old grandfather had not been able to make the 1-hour trip to see his son for 7 weeks due to the summer heat wave and car engine malfunctions. We made this trip possible especially this week. Hospice care seems to think this may be my father’s last week. The two, father and son greeted each other with gladness in their hearts and faces. Something I will never forget.
It seems wrong for a father to say “goodbye” to his son, no matter how old you are.
Their last words “You take care, son.” “See you later, Pops!”
Good bye is not forever … Thank You, Jesus for eternal life!
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.
The Dew of Little Things
“For in the dew of little things the heart finds its morning and is refreshed,” Khalil Gibran shares with us. It was a “little things day” yesterday. I awoke early Sunday morning as usual, even after 3 of my grandkids’ slumber party continued well past my bedtime Saturday night, which needs to be at 9:00pm! After perusing the yard, taking in the morning sunlight, I returned to my kitchen to cook eggs, sausage, and toast before the little ones and my exhausted husband awoke. He was up late working on the jeep, trying to take apart the layers to access any engine damage. It looks like it is “fatal” as Dean says. Shopping for a new engine now, or a new vehicle. I let my husband work on those details while I played and relaxed with the grandkids. We watered the plants and played with the hose a bit. Frisbee and the neighbors’ dogs filled up the rest of the morning. After our afternoon nap and quiet time I feel refreshed. We watched a hummingbird visit the canna blossom. We played with a bouncy ball, colored, and watched a movie. I showed my granddaughters how to propogate cuttings of wandering jew and swedish ivy. The slower pace of the children quieted my spirit, even in the chasing after my 2-year old grandson. “The dew of little things …” 



