March is mad. It seems to be mad at the world with its destructive tornadoes earlier this week and dive-bombing temperatures this weekend after spring was introduced weeks ago. The below freezing temps continue for 6 days, not just one night. And snow in the forecast!
I had my early spring sprouts emerge from the organic soil of the raised bed at least a week ago. Dean and I went to the farm last night between the spring showers and by lantern light we covered the vegetable bed with a plastic tarp. This bed is inside the screen house, so the baby plants just need an extra layer of protection the next few days. See what happens. Gardening is definitely one science experiment after another.
March is also the month to celebrate a few birthdays. Today, my father was born 81-years ago. He is no longer amongst us on earth, but they must celebrate birthdays in heaven! Happy Birthday, Dad! Hope you are celebrating with Grandpa and Uncle Lee! I miss you dearly! I hope you are proud of your family and what we are in our lives presently. That makes me happy to think you are. You must know about your granddaughter fighting a battle with cancer. I have asked for prayers and for the angels to watch over her. You and God must hear these supplications daily, hourly. Thank you for listening. In God’s hands…
Green swatches with flecks of purple and pink will completely cover this bed. Just need a few more sunny days and rain or well water. Our raised bed is a patchwork garden. One month ago seeds of the early spring greens, chives, and sugar snap and large pod peas went into the cold organic soil situated in this raised bed on the screenhouse side of our greenhouse. The lettuce and spinach are sparse. Either bad seeds, but most likely not enough watering and near freezing mornings a few days in April. We will reseed this week. One end are the early spring lettuces, spinach, and chives sowed in patches rather than rows. Then the 2 rows of peas in the middle. On Sunday I sowed a row of bush beans near the pea patch. At the other end of the raised bed are patches of herbs sowed into the soil; cilantro, a blend of basils, thyme, and marjoram. We selected Olds Seed Company organic vegetable and herb seeds bought at the local country store late winter.
The little pea patch is coming along just fine. This weekend we strung twine along the rows for the pea plants to climb. We have about another month until the date of maturity for both varieties. The delicate blossoms should be appearing soon. This legume can be grown just for the bouquet of flowers and fragance. Nutrients are provided for the soil as well. I cherish the fresh, delicious peas with a pinch of kosher salt and dabble of sweet butter. About as many varieties of peas there are, is about how many sweet sayings, poems, and songs referring to the pea. Babies, children and lovers have been called “sweet pea” for centuries. “Two peas in a pod” is a phrase I say when two people act alike. Mostly, sweet pea is a term of endearment such as from Amos Lee’s song…
Sweet pea, apple of my eye
Don’t know when and I don’t know why
You’re the only reason I keep on coming home.
Sundog prism peers
Forecasted this windy cold night
Howling at the moon
Anna Marie Gall
January 17, 2014
Missouri’s winter weather keeps shifting with the winds. Warm one day almost like a spring thaw (but you know better!) And then the next day, it is well below freezing. Life is like this, too. What was status quo for a season, becomes ruffled feathers in a whirl of activity. It can be a telephone call from one of our grown kids or our aging parents. One of my simple wellness projects at work becomes complex just because it involves people. Human resources are constantly changing. At work I arrange for onsite fitness classes. I have taken yoga lessons, learned to take deep breaths in some awkward positions. This year Tai Chi is teaching me to stand my ground no matter what blows my way.
This week my geraniums reminded me that pruning is necessary to become more beautiful. Lush green leaves, larger and more blossoms are produced after the pruning process. But that first snip, oh so painful! My budget had been pruned to nill for many seasons as a college student, young parent, single parent, and late-bloomer career woman. This week I have met a 10-year+ financial goal, and I now reap the reward of that diligence and prudence. The winds are now shifting in another area of my life. Optimal physical health and personal wellness is my lifestyle goal. Dean and I are planning a short 3-day trip in February, experiencing Missouri Mennonite country. We will gather non-GMO seeds and repurposed antiques for our gardens and greenhouse. We are building some raised beds inside the greenhouse and screenhouse to grow more herbs and vegetables for our personal consumption. Though flowers and perennials will always be the foundation of Deanna Greens And Garden Art, I am hopeful where this shift in our propogating goals takes us.
“If a man knows not to which port he sails, no wind is favorable.” ~ Seneca
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.
“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.
A hard freeze tonight is in the weather forecast. Up until this week, we wondered when autumn was here to stay. Each night it gets colder. Farmer Dave from the 550 AM radio show says the growing season is offically over in Missouri. We have moved 95% our plants to the shelter of our home and garage in the past 2 weeks. The gourd vines are almost all dried up, so the big gourds will come off their shriveled, withered vines. They will sit in the screenhouse to collect mold on their skin to complete their curing process for future crafting projects during this winter. The little gourds will go to the farmers’ markets this weekend. Great autumn decorations for your harvest table. Our roma tomato plants will die off after tonight’s freeze. We have three huge tomato plants in portable planters, so they now grow under the plant lights of the garage. I wonder how long we will have our organic tomatoes this autumn and winter?! I forgot about my terra cotta planter sitting at the corner of our 1/4-acre plot at Boone Hollow Farm, greets us when we come up the hill to the greenhouse. It houses a solar light post and plants. The geranium, swedish ivy, and vinca may live their last day today. We will not make it the greenhouse tonight with our work schedules, watering, and securing light source for the other plants. But then maybe the solar light will provide a bit of heat to keep temperatures above freezing near the terra cotta plants? Dean and I learn more about caring for plants during the experience rather than just reading about it. Hands on learners. Our plants are science experiments. This blog is our gardening journal. With the crisp nights and early mornings come the glowing autumn foliage. This weekend is to be the peak color weekend. Autumn has an alter-ego I can live with.
This St. Patrick’s Day brought snow flurries, sleety rain, thunder, and later pouring rain. No rainbow with a pot of gold, though the soil still welcomes much moisture after the parched seasons of past. Hard to believe yesterday was a warm and partly sunny spring-like day. Yellow daffodils blooming on the country hillsides contrasting green while tree frogs croaked near the rain-filled creek beds. Midnight, our labrador retriever seemed to be in heaven sitting in the slushy cold rain, dreaming of ducks and geese landing on the water while Dean and I worked at the greenhouse. I, bundled in boots, snow pants, heavy winter coat, and hat kept warming water on the camp stove for hot tea. My Irish blessings came with an old hymn this morning at church …
An Old Irish Blessing
May the road rise up to meet you.
May the wind always be at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face,
and rains fall soft upon your fields.
And until we meet again,
May God hold you in the palm of His hand.
This morning I witnessed four sundogs in the sky while enroute to work. Definitely a sign of the weather changing again. Our mock spring is just that. The weather reports this past two days have indicated a winter storm due into St. Louis, Missouri and area on Thursday. Do you know what a sundog is? Well, my father always called this patch of a rainbow seen in the sky usually around sunrise or sunset a “sundog”. He would say, “a storm is coming in” or “bad weather is around the corner”. I assumed it was a Native American phrase, as my father was very much interested in American history and our natives. But according to Wikipedia’s definition the name “sundog” is an Old World phrase. The scientific name is called “parhelia” which in Greek means “beside the sun”. Check out this link: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sundog for a more scientific explanation on the “sundog”. There is an art masterpiece “Vadersolstavlan”, which is Swedish for “The Sundog Painting” or “The Weather Sun Painting”. It was painted in the 1500’s depicting Stockholm, Sweden with this weather phenomenon as the focal point. I have included a copy of this painting on my blog. Aristotle called them “mock suns”. According to poet Aratus, the parhelia indicates rain, wind, or an approaching storm. “Parhelia” is included in his catalogue of Weather Signs. So in the days of old, the people simply watched the sky without doppler radar and other sophisticated instruments. St Louis weather folks are telling us sleet and snow during the day tomorrow, with up to a 1/2 inch of freezing rain overnight into Friday. Winter is not over in Missouri.
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. 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! Cups of hot earl grey tea and chai lattes are on my winter survival list also. Oh, cannot forget the fire in the kitchen fireplace. Spicy hats, teas, and layered bed clothes add a spark to life, don’t they?!