I awoke at 6:30am this morning. I saw some sunlight peeping through the window blinds. Actual sun after several days of rain. Checking the sky, a front of clouds is slowly moving from the southwest. Rain on its way once again. I think I can manage to get to the farm 30 minutes away to check my garden bed in the greenhouse/screenhouse before the rain starts. I was hoping the county highway was open, no flood waters to prevent my route to Boone Hollow Farm. I stole the opportunity by myself as Dean was attending to his son’s dogs and house, and will be home sometime late morn. I left Dean a note on the table just in case he beat me back to the cottage.
I arrived to an overgrown gravel road. No mowing had been done for a couple of weeks. Too wet to mow. And the small creek was swollen and flowing over the rocks, so I parked right near the county highway, and walked into the farm. My sandaled feet relished the coolness of the fresh rain water in the creek. The walk up the gravel road and hill to the greenhouse was sopping wet, quite muddy. The arugula and leaf lettuces are wildly overgrown; bolting, flowering, and forming their seed pods. My herbs have finally taken off with the summer heat and humidity. The cherry tomato plants are doing well, a couple have had their tops nibbled off by the deer or coyotes. Plenty more started forming their little yellow blooms, the fruit to follow soon. This morning the wild and cultivated meet together at Deanna’s Cottage …
Household and yard projects ruled the weekend. Dean and I managed to get a couple of walks in with Midnight between chores. On Saturday Dean cleaned and prepped the concrete slab for the laminate flooring to be installed this coming week in our house addition. While he did that I raked twigs and leaves, remnants of autumn and winter. The winds seem to blow the gum balls and pine needles from the neighbor’s trees our way. Cannot complain too much as these neighbor’s trees attract an owl that lives in the neighborhood. All the brown rubbish filled the compost bin, and then some. So that is just the front yard.
The back yard is one huge mess with the room addition project. The yard needs to be leveled and new grass seeded. Dean and I picked up huge tree roots and rocks unearthed from the foundation dig up. We continued discussion on making a small retaining wall, a rock swale, and small patio area. Piles of gray and brown sit curbside for the city’s bulky trash pickup this week; twigs, limbs, scrap lumber and old pipes. Seasons. Making way for spring colors. Greener grass; purple, pink, and white blooms; and the perennials being brought outside from the semi-heated garage one warm weekend before Easter. See what the March winds bring until April. Welcome Spring! So happy you came Today!
Spring seemed to arrive in Missouri early this year. Grass and flowers bulbs sprouted up out of the ground, and we are not even to March yet. My vegetable and herb bed was prepped with rich organic compost, and spring greens and peas sowed on Monday, earliest ever for Deanna Greens And Garden Art. The pink tulip trees and yellow daffodils bloomed in color this week. And then … woo, the north wind blew in the arctic cold and snow flurries on Friday. Winter is still among us this weekend. Those daffodils swayed with the wind on Friday, but with hope they will continue to stand and bloom even in the chill of winter. Resilience. That is what we are called to this very day, and for a season. Isaiah 42:3 states “He won’t break a bruised reed. He won’t quench a dimly burning wick. He will faithfully bring justice.” Hot tea, a warm Sunday breakfast, and God’s Word keeps this wick burning this day.
My cup overflows with green leaves and bursting color-filled blooms. The early morning silhouette shows plump pots, planters, and wagons, crowding the gardens and yards. Whatever vessel the spring plantings went into are now filled with branches reaching for the September sun. The daytime heat has been high this first week of the ninth month, but is to cool down a bit by Labor Day Monday. Yesterday’s evening soak from the garden hose did the green life well. This morning our feathered friends thank me for their filled bird bath while the crickets, grasshoppers, and bug life hum their late summer song.
I stay home with cleaning and cooking this Saturday. Garden fresh green beans, herb-red potato salad, and beef patties on the dinner menu with a dessert pie out so to catch up with some family this evening. The herbs will have to wait at the greenhouse another day. I will sing a tune or two and say a few prayers while vacuuming and cleaning the toilet …
Earlier this year I accomplished a major feat, paying off my debts accumulated from years ago before my divorce. Now my household budget is blooming, looking brighter everyday. I am determined to stay in the black with my green habit. Red blooms only, no budget in the red! Did you follow all those colors and what I am saying? It means I am gardening on a budget, small budget at that. With three grown children getting married this year outside of our town, cuts are made before the flowers bloom. Dean and I need to budget our time and funds with our growing adventures. We chose to not go to the farmers’ markets. We can concentrate on the redesign of Deanna Greens And Garden Art rather than the market. We will continue to grow organically. Dean and I’s health matters too much, so no short-cuts there. The founder of Missouri’s organic Mueller Farm, where our friends at EarthDance are housed has a sign displayed which says, “Health begins in the soil.” BTW: EarthDance has a class they are offering at a nominal fee called “Health Begins In The Soil” for St. Louis locals in May. Checkout their web page: http://www.earthdancefarms.org. Dean and I may see you there as we could use a refresher course. More vegetables and herbs than perennials will grow in our newly constructed raised beds made with 1 part good quality compost, 1 part good quality organic soil, and 1 part sand for proper drainage. The rich soil and the non-treated lumber to make the raised beds are our most expensive investment in 2014. Our hardy red geraniums will continue to bloom in big pots this growing season as they have all winter under our plant lights in our semi-heated garage. Sunny zinnia and marigold blooms will welcome parishioners and guests at the church once again this spring and summer. In about 2 weeks our gourd seedlings will go into the ground underneath recycled metal arches situated near the greenhouse, trusting we will be frost-free by then. If we have a bumper crop of gourds, we may venture to a farmer’s market or two this autumn. Gardeners and weekend farmers, how do you cut cost with your green adventures?
This year of 2014, January 6 was one of the subzero winter days, coldest in 20 years. Dean and I’s full-time jobs were cancelled for the day. Miracles, one of our bigger Christmas cacti bloomed on this day of the Epiphany. The Feast of the Epiphany is “a Christian feast day that celebrates the revelation of God the Son as a human being in Jesus Christ,” Wikipedia states. The beautiful red bloom of our kitchen cacti brightened my day while getting well again. Snuckered inside, I could have viewed the circumstances as stuck inside. But I far rather be indoors than out during the negative temp days of this winter. My face became puffy, moon-shaped during this subzero spell like a squirrel with a stash of acorns tucked in his cheeks. The cold air I encountered for brief moments getting into the car or letting our labrador/flat-coat retriever inside from his white outdoor haven caused this allergen reaction. Yes, I am allergic to the cold, cold air or water. Weird! While indoors for 3 days, I spent quiet time with my hubby or by myself.
Today, 6 days later, it is 60 degrees warmer! The 12″ of snow has melted, with shrinken dirty piles at the end of parking lots and along the curbs now. Our Midnight comes inside from the yard muddy. My face is finally normal size, I can see the outline of my cheek bones in the mirror once again. The antibiotics my doctor finally ordered are healing my sinus infection. Our garage tomato plants continue to have blossoms and fruit produced despite the frigid cold air a few days ago. The plant lights and oil heater must keep the plants warm enough in their winter home. My plants are daily reminders of little miracles. At Church this morning we sang “The Bread of Life” by Rory Cooney. A reminder of the bigger miracles …
I myself am the bread of life.
You and I are the bread of life.
Taken and blessed, broken and shared by Christ
That the world might live.
This bread is spirit, gift of the Maker’s love,
and we who share it know that we can be one:
a living sign of God in Christ.
Here is God’s kingdom given to us as food.
This is our body, this is our blood:
a living sign of God in Christ.
Lives broken open, stories shared aloud,
Become a banquet, a shelter for the world:
a living sign of God in Christ.
My husband, Dean and I at times wonder if the grass is greener elsewhere. Not sure where, but just elsewhere. We consider relocation, a fresh start as a second-marriage couple thoroughly in love with each other. We talk about a place called “our own”. Not raising young children any more, and in a few weeks an empty nest once again. A new beginning and more discoveries is what we sense. Is it a matter of a different house other than where I raised my children, or is it a different town, and/or new positions in a different area altogether? I came across a couple of young birds this morning enroute to another building on campus. One drank from a tiny puddle near the street curb. I said “little bird look over there, there is a fountain full of water.” Why drink from a small street puddle, when a fountain of fresh water is just one building over? Is the water fresher on the other side of the bushes, the grass greener on the other side of the fence?
Dean and I traveled to Arkansas this past weekend for a family wedding. Neither of us had been in southern Arkansas before this trip. We ventured off onto country highways from I-55 to camp at a state park on Friday night enroute to the Monticello, Arkansas wedding for Saturday evening. Cotton, rice, corn, and winter wheat fields dotted the landscape between rivers, sloughs, and bogs. Crop dusters flew over us like crows, leaving green pellets of God only knows what on the highway. The dull gray soil says it needs sustainable products rather than more synthetics. Stuttgart, Arkansas is the duck and rice capital of the world according to their signs. I do not want to venture on the validity of that statement, but it was picturesque after witnessing some desolate, impoverish homesteads before arriving in this prosperous town. Crepe myrtles, magnolia trees, snowball bushes, yuccas, cactus, and water lilies dotted the landscape with green and contrasting color as we entered into central Arkansas. The state park camp was so typical, inexpensive and loved by the other travelers and locals. Father’s Day weekend was not too terribly crowded, though plenty of children bicycling and playing ball nearby probably while their fathers wetted a fishin’ line. The bugs galore are summer-long tenants rather than visitors such as ourselves. I am chewed alive by mosquitoes, and the chiggers found me within minutes. Instead of fighting the insect population I decided to read inside the zipped screen of the tent on the comforts of the air mattress. As soon as dusk came, the clothes came off to cool down. My eyelids were shut within minutes after sundown. Early in the night a raccoon visited camp rattling a cup of ice we left outside our tent door. The people of new localities always interest me. The polite southern culture resignates in Arkansas. “Yes, ma’am, no ma’am”, the young folk say with sincerity. It was nice to meet some local folks at the wedding. The bride’s and groom’s families and friends blended well for a festive occasion. Good food, music, dancing, and laughter throughout the evening. An oldy but goody song brought Dean and I to our feet, and a Spanish-flavored tune just about sent me over Dean’s shoulder. I told my dance partner, “none of that fancy stuff, I need to be able walk off the dance floor tonight.” Castanets were in order, but none to be found. The Saturday and Sunday night hotel stays were restful.
Today reality hits, the work week is in full bloom. My more-than-busy Missouri life needs to change. Working 7 days a week with three jobs is much for anyone. Demands increase at work, with no pay raises. Change is in order, and around the corner. Let’s see what comes.
Do you want to brighten Mom’s Day? A single blooming shasta daisy bedded in a terra cotta pot will do just that! Deanna Greens And Garden Art will be selling at two farmers’ markets this weekend. On Saturday, you can find our tent at Lake Saint Louis Farmers’ Market from 8:00am – 12:00pm. Dean will be there with his smiling face and a cup of coffee at hand. Joining Dean are our lovely geraniums, a blooming cactus, hanging pots of swedish ivy, moses-in-the-cradle, asparagus and rabbit’s-foot ferns, vinca, as well as small planters of easy-to-care-for succulents. On Mother’s Day, you can find Dean at the Chandler Hill Vineyards Farmers’ Market from 10:00am – 4:00pm. Also, beautiful nature photo cards crafted by my artist sister will be available at both markets. A delicious Sunday brunch is being served at the vineyard. Come to the countryside of Defiance, Missouri for an unforgettable Mother’s Day treat! I will be at the Olde Town Spice Shoppe selling spices and sharing recipe ideas. Remember, buy local! Dean and I will join my grown children and grandchildren for a picnic at the park near the Missouri River in St. Charles for the evening. Happy Mother’s Day!
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.
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.