Category Archives: fire

A Sprout

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A sprout, green shoots of hope appeared in the garden bed today.  My chives have surfaced from its winter hibernation.   It had been 10 weeks when we left the Deanna Greens greenhouse in Defiance, just before Thanksgiving.  By lantern light we harvested all the herbs and greens chive-sproutswe had left that evening. There had not been need to get to the farm since snow has been close to null, no need to check on the 3-season structure. Dean, Midnight, and I observed signs of where an animal had laid on the other side of the bed.  Our labrador sniffed the area thoroughly “who has been sleeping in my bed?!”

This mild sunny afternoon in early February called my name to the countryside.  Perusing our 3-season structure, and then for a long walk around Boone Hollow Farm with Dean and Midnight.  Midnight lead the way up the hill, passed the farm neighbor’s sprouting garlic field we help plant in November.  Then a stroll along the cedar ridge, down another neighbor’s gravel driveway, back near our greenhouse, then over to the barn, and circling the brush piles before our return to the greenhouse. Our landlord must have set the one brush pile on fire as there were a few lasting embers and a small trail of smoke surrounded by ashes.  Present moment, mindful observations of nature. The walk and fresh air revived my soul after this weary week.

Hope is like those February sprouts of chives and garlic.  Perennial faith believes a flourishing crop and bountiful harvest in the not too far future.  Lasting embers will once again ablaze a fire to light up the darkness and give warm comfort.  The ashes of cancer lie on the ground while my daughter lights the world with her strength, faith, and love.

Warming Spirits And Hearts

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In my Missouri town my furry  hat and leather gloves are needed when I get out and about this week. Winter’s chill is here to stay for a few months. It came before the winter solstice and Christmas this year.  A fire in a wood stove or fireplace is welcomed, but the chillest of December days seem to warm up with good food, drink, and fellowship.  Holiday celebrations are underway.  The inner chef in me loves the holidays. With last week’s office party I made a traditional tiramisu to go with the Italian luncheon of pasta con broccoli and lettuce salad.  For the extended family gathering last weekend, I prepared a 11-lb ham with a Bavarian-style glaze of brandy, brown sugar, and Dijon mustard with each family member pitching in with a homemade side dish or dessert.  A cheese platter like this photo from Cabot will be designed for another celebration, with spirits served at each gathering. I want to connect with those I love, and those I need to love more … warming spirits and hearts.  Tis the season, reason for the season.  Hibernation will come later.  Curling under a blanket with a book, writing, and dreaming. Ham and green beans in my evening rice, with a glass of that good blackcherry wine on the side.  Hibernation is a fine art!” ~David J. Beard.

Midsummer Day

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The Country Diary Of An Edwardian Lady by Edith HoldenI picked pea pods, lettuces, and herbs galore this past weekend. After a week of rain, the sun shined for a day. Finally, I was able to get to Boone Hollow Farm and Deanna Green And Gardens Art greenhouse without fear of rising creeks and rivers. I found an old saying in my book The Country Diary Of An Edwardian Lady “June damp and warm does the farmer no harm,” which I feel the local farmers and folks as far as Texas would disagree. Floods waters have ruined acres of crops. May be too late to try another round of crops this growing season.

Valhalla Sunset & Camp Fire

Valhalla Sunset & Camp Fire

Yesterday was the Midsummer Day in the US, the longest day of the year. A much celebrated day in the Old World and other countries around the world, but especially so amongst farm cultures and country folk. For some it is held on June 23 or 24. There are many rituals, most common is a bonfire. I had not the opportunity to have a bonfire for the summer solstice as we celebrated Father’s Day in Columbia, Missouri with family at a steak house. Does the flame from the grill count? No, I don’t think so. But the company and food was good. And it is not too long until the Minnesota destination of Valhalla on Island Lake. I will be memorized by the flames of many bonfires and the sound of chatter amongst friends.

Papers, Papers, A Plethora of Papers

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So how did paper get to be so overkill? All the junk mail even during the electronic era? Before scrolled pen & ink messages,the typewriter, word processors, and computer words were carved in stone and wood for communication. Story-telling, musical lyrics, and fireside chats rather than books, blogs, and online chats. I’d like to reserve my paper adventures to handwritten “thank you” and “thinking of you” notes using recycled or hand-crafted papers, or papiermache or decoupage trinket boxes or other craft projects recycling greeting cards. Valentine’s Day is just around the corner for a paper creation.Happy Valentine<
With these wintry days time is on my side. I am not working two or three jobs any longer. No greenhouse chores. No pressing family matters to attend to. My allergy to the cold tells me I cannot play outside in the cold. At home and at work, I have a plethora of papers piled in baskets, boxes, trays, and file cabinets. All of which are in need of my attention. Not one paper is of immediacy. It just requires time to make decisions about what stays and gets filed, and what gets purged. I do not consider myself a hoarder, but I am beginning to wonder about myself as of late. Lack of time would be the culprit. But 2015 is the year for repurpose, recycle, and rejuvenation. How many trees can I save? Jonas At The Fireplace
At home, the unwanted papers are a part of an annual fire ritual set aside for a wintry late afternoon using the kitchen fireplace. It is the perfect Sunday afternoon to make split-second decisions before throwing the unwanted papers in the blazing fire or set aside for the files. I guarantee there will be another wintry day for filing. Our feline friends find the whistling of the fire fasinating. My work week has been somewhat subdued considering the kind of weeks and months coming out of 2014. Project deadlines and security issues were priority over these damned papers. To the shredder rather than a fire the excess papers go. I now keep most documents on electronic files. During another lull time, I will organize my computer files.
What paper projects do you create or undertake during the winter months?

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.

The Year of The Mattress

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Dean and I along with our labrador-flat coat retriever mix, Midnight arrive at the 60+ year old cabin situated on Island Lake just at sundown. Oranges, pinks, and purples kiss the lake “good night” and welcome us. It’s been a long haul from St. Charles County, Missouri to this Minnesota paradise. But so much worth the road trip. Weekday and weekend warriors cannot stop on vacation either. We had taken the extra long route following the Mississippi River highways. So a 12-hour trip became a 15-hour trip. The meandering scenery had slowed our pace down before arriving at this moment. Midnight climbs out of the SUV from his secure kennel into what I think my father described to him as heaven. Our dog gazed wide-eyed at this expansive beautiful lake recounting the aquatic tales his deceased master had told him, I am sure. Into the lake he went, lapping water and going for his doggy swim in Island Lake. Just 2 minutes to realize heaven was here, and my father’s spirit present.
Our first night at the cabin we unloaded the SUV, then gathered jackets and a flashlight onward bound by foot just up the road with our dog. The little green cabin had folks congregated there near a campfire. We met up with my childhood friends and greeted new ones from as far away as Norway. Midnight gets acquainted with more labradors, the natural breed of our 4-legged friends in the land of 10,000 lakes. Before we know it, the time passes midnight with the campfire still aflame. Embers will be there in the morning to start a skillet breakfast. We head back to our lakeside cabin, choosing the front bedroom of the 2-bedroom pine-lined dwelling. I climb into bed too tired to have a spring from the mattress just about empale me. We’ll sleep in the back bedroom tonight and deal with the mattress issue tomorrow. We discovered the back bedroom mattress was not much better as Dean and I are forced to meet in the middle. This mattress’ sunken center provided cozy quarters for this exhausted yet still honeymooning couple. Our backs ache in the morning begging for more support. Dean flips over the empaling mattress to its other side to discover the year of the mattress … 1971. Why that is the first year my father along with my mother and their 4 children ventured to this heavenly northern destination in a Chevy Impala. Now don’t cast too much judgement on this mattress date. The cabins are only used 3 – 4 months out of the year, so a normal 10-year mattress can go to 30 – 40 years. So at 42-years old, it might be due for replacing.
Electronics, computer and TV are non-existent in the cabins. While on this get away, Dean chose to use his basic cell phone on occasion. I took a vacation from it all. This post was written last week, scrawled onto my paper journal … I awoke this morning before sunrise. Is it night still? No clock to check as we are in a time warp at this northern lake retreat. In just a few minutes I see a tinge of blue in the black sky. I take this moment to observe the day’s beginning. I slip on my jeans and sweatshirt and quietly step onto the screened porch. Those moments of complete silence, no human awake just nature and I welcome the morning in this neck of the woods. Our dog, Midnight stretches on the porch and awaits at the porch door to be let out. He, too embraces morning’s arrival this day. There is something special about living in the present moment. All senses akeen, see the colors change before my eyes recognizing the picturesque treeline before me. The loons cry out as the fog lifts from the lake. Misty vapors keep my skin and clothes damp, I smell and taste the lake, and I remember my father’s love of this place. His planning, mapping, and research of his yearly fishing trip started in January when the tree farming and landscape designing was at a hault. My father was a planner, and I too like him. Yet this present moment reels me back to reality. I would have missed this unforgetable sunrise had I rolled over and slept in another morning of my vacation … ducks, a blue heron, and even a night owl calling it a night show themselves amongst the pines, birches, and cattails. The dragonflies are now flitting about, illuminating more color for this overcast day. The brisk morn may see a rain shower before the warm noon sun. No boat on the lake, that I hear or see, and 2 hours into this day … In 1971 and several years to follow, my father would have been out on the lake by now catching walleye and bass for that evening’s dinner. Way before my siblings or I and definitely my mother opened an eyelid. I miss my father today like everyday. This place called Valhalla is heaven on earth, and was my father’s favorite place while he was alive on earth. Somehow he is with Midnight, Dean, and I. It is called eternal life …
For my siblings and I Valhalla meant playing with friends all day with very little chores. We would play h-o-r-s-e in the barn, swim in the cold lake, boat rides, hide-n-seek with the fireflies lighting the path, and a campfire with songs and roasted marshmallows. Those young teenage years I wanted to be on the receiving end of another kiss from a cute Norwegian boy, my Minnesota friends’ visiting cousin. To me Valhalla is about people, kind-hearted genuine folks. The mild summer and lake fish bring the people. But the people bring life to the vacation. The summer visitors enjoy fish fries, potlucks, smokey breakfast skillets, and campfire tales. This year the fish fry, skillet breakfast, fire grilled pizzas, and lemon rice krispies treats make the food highlights. More Norwegian cousins entertain the family and friends this year. I miss my Norwegian friend from my childhood, and his cousin promises to persuade his return to Valhalla next summer. Initimate moments we share about the death and memory of loved ones. Songs were sung at church and at the campfire. Yes, my Scrabble game had kinder words reflecting my kinder, at peace thoughts this restful week. The year of the mattress did not reflect the oldness of 1971, but the goodness.

Winter Shut-In

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Dean is due out of St. Louis for his Washington, DC weekend trip with his father, brother, and son much later than he desired today. The winter storm cancelled and delayed many flights in the Midwest. So we are winter shut-ins today. No need to report to work if we scheduled this Friday off for a 3-day weekend. Give the road crews an opportunity to clean off the snowy streets. So Dean slept in until 9:00am, and I arose an hour later than my usual 5:00am. Cannot sleep in too long. I put together Deanna Green And Garden Art expense receipts, sorted them in monthly order, and entered them onto the 2012 spreadsheet. Computers are handy when they function properly, and we have graciously been given one to replace the old virus-infected one. Accounting comes easy to me, I just do not like doing it. So I procrastinated until this week. I’d rather be gardening, reading, writing, or watching the birds…
This gray wintery day the Carolina wren, tufted titmouse, house finch, Carolina chickadee, and Eurasian tree sparrow gathered at the feeders. We have gone through more than 5 pounds of seeds in 3 days. Sunlight broke through the thinning clouds an hour ago with the promise of a clear, but very cold overnight. I stoked last night’s logs, and have a fire blazing in kitchen fireplace. So cozy next to the computer desk. Sipping coffee laced with Grand Marnier in my mug while I catch up on e-mails and write this blog. My son-in-law will take Dean to the airport, so I can remain a cocoon in my home. Hot chicken soup, roasted marshmallows, and homemade snow ice cream with the grandkids this evening. I like being a winter shut-in, my mind free indeed to dream. “Take time to contemplate – away from the opinions and influence of others – what you really want and what you believe to be important in your life.” ~ Jonathan Lockwood Huie

I Am Perfect

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redembersIt has been less than a perfect week this week, actually very far from it! I helped put a fire out at work on Wednesday. Literally, and yes on Ash Wednesday, I played firefighter just before I was due out from the office. The ‘flight or fight” response came out, and I stayed to fight. I helped put a fire out that was on the rooftop, just outside my office. My building has been under construction for months, and the rooftop became the main project the past 2-3 weeks. Shingle tar was bubbling, a nearby plank board was glowing with red embers, with high winds blowing. After calling security and waiting for 5 minutes with no avail, I checked the rooftop door and it was unlocked. The fire hydrant was blocked with construction equipment, so my co-worker poured water from a pitcher onto the fire while I kept the door open. In 30 seconds it all was a smoking mess! Still cannot see clearly why we did the wrong thing. Authorities were notified, the site inspected, little damage, and no one injured. You would think, our superiors would be elated, right? Yet we were to set the fire alarm, escape, and wait for the local firefighters to show up or not. This past month, the firefighters never showed at 2 other fire alarms. Apparently, a complete investigation is underway to find out the cause. A local firefighter would have been a neutral party, to announce whether it was an employee fault or the fault of the contracted construction crew. I try to do the right thing, though what is right to me and 7 other people who were at the scene of the fire during and immediately afterwards, is wrong to the superiors.
On the way home from church today I saw a local shop sign that says, “I am nobody. Nobody is perfect. Therefore, I am perfect.” A humorous confidence booster, I would say. But it was just what I needed to remind me to laugh. And that confidence and esteem is a matter of perception, self-perception and God’s perception. God’s Word tells me that “I am fearfully and wonderfully made” (Psalms 139:14). If I listened to others, I am nobody. If I listen to God, I am perfect. Then I replace the “I am” with “you are fearfully and wonderfully made” to forgive and bless the less than honest people, when I really rather not. Right now, it is a process. My attitude and sarcasm about this smoky mess are simmering down. I feel like shouting on the rooftop, “I am perfect in God’s eyes … I did the right thing!” Though I will settle with just knowing how God feels about me, and that means everything to me. The grace of God …

Winter’s Chill

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Winter’s chill has come with the New Year here in Missouri. Brrrsy! A thin layer of snow, freezing rain, and more snow covered the church parking lot New Year’s Day. In 2012 I did not need my black faux fur Russian hat, but I pulled it from the coat closet this 1st week of 2013. Dean calls my head covering my “Ivana hat”. I think he likes the old world style on his bride! Warm, and protects my head and ears from the stinging air. Already this year it’s requiring drastic survival tactics! It was 10 degrees F in “Skunk Hollow”,according to the local 550 AM radio station yesterday morning. A woven scarf and gloves accompany. I have long locks (unlike the photo), yet not enough for 10 degrees F. Faux Fur Russian Hat For those quiet intimate nights with my hubby in order to keep the pets from snuggling in our bed requires closed bedroom doors. Don’t want to keep the dogs and cats outside or even in that garage for more than 5 minutes. I know, they are part of the family, and spoiled! So then, pajama bottoms with a long-sleeve night shirt is mandatory as well as the space heater next to the bed. The heated air from the furnace does not circulate as well with closed doors. All those clothes kind of defeat the purpose, but makes for great snuggling with my man. Marital union must take place in the winter months, as there are plenty of people born the months of September, October, and November, right? What about those folks up in Alaska, Norway, and Russia? Somehow, they reproduce! Oil Space Heater Cups of hot earl grey tea and chai lattes are on my winter survival list also. Chai Latte Oh, cannot forget the fire in the kitchen fireplace. Spicy hats, teas, and layered bed clothes add a spark to life, don’t they?!