Tag Archives: morning

Saturday’s Simplicity

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Some Saturdays can be activity-filled and complicated with household chores, shopping, and cleaning, “get up and get going” like a weekday.  This crisp November Saturday morning I slept in.  The sunny autumn day Dean and I began with chive & cheese scrambled eggs and cinnamon rolls knowing we needed a substantial breakfast to get the autumn leaf and brush cleaning completed. Dean captured some lovely photos while in the yard.  And my thoughts drift to a subject at hand to facilitate at an employee enrichment class in a couple of weeks.  Simplicity.  Some refer to a simple lifestyle as minimalism.  Whatever you call it, it is living in the present moment, and enjoying life, love, family, and friends.  There are only a few basics to possess … and everything else is just stuff.  It is up to you to figure out what you can live with and what you can live without.  So what can you give away from that pantry, garden, closet, or garage?  What do you need to cling to for substance for your day today?  I have confidence you will make a wise choice.message-on-a-wine-cork

 

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Pancake Morning

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“Talking, talking, pancakes” is what Dean describes our first morning together.  We loves our pancakes!  This Saturday morning is no exception.  This improvising personal chef had one over-ripe banana in the fruit bowl and one bottle of Wells Banana Bread beer left in the refrigerator from the holidays.  This combination created some delicious pancakes. Is it Hermann’s German culture or my German heritage from my deceased grandmothers influencing the weekend menu in this home?  Probably a little bit of each.  Here it is folks … Banana Beer Pancakes with Caramelized Banana Beer Sauce.

This morning Dean and I talk weekend topics over our pancake breakfast.  Errands to run … purchase and install new window blinds in our rejuvenated home, and a tile floor selection for the bathroom.  Then dog food and possible organic vegetable and herb seeds to purchase at the local farmers’ co-op with an afternoon run out to our 7-month greenhouse at Boone Hollow Farm in Defiance, Missouri.  I will get the organic soil turned up today while Dean looks over the structure for winter wear. February brings us closer to spring.  Besides the Groundhog tells us it will be an early spring this year. Spring-like today, but winter returns with frigid cold weather after the weekend. Deanna Greens And Garden Art will start our 4th growing season.  In another 4 or 5 weeks, seeds will be planted in our beds for an early crop of lettuces, spinach, and peas. The garage is too crowded with our extra storage during the house renovations to get the gourd and herb seedlings started on the heating pads.  All direct sowing this year.  Flexibility and improvisations once again.  Life requires it.

“Look around for a place to sow a few seeds.”  Henry Van Dyke

 

January Blahs and Baking

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I have had little energy the past few days, turning into bed early hoping to feel better the next morning.  Extra glasses of water and hot tea are being consumed.  Tuesday into Wednesday I awoke with my throat on fire, and needed to prop up on double pillows in order to breathe.  The seasonal allergy snuffles definitely became a bacterial infection. My Dean seemed to feel worse than I with his croupy cough.  We stayed home from work, and visited our doctors in the morning.  Antibiotics were ordered treating a sinus infection for each of us. The January blahs indeed.  Naps and cooking shows filled the day.  Bone-in chicken breasts simmered all day in the crock pot, and made a healthy, tasteful stock for homemade chicken & dumplings.  I had heard years ago, homemade stock made with real bone-in meats makes a health-filled potion.  Adding vinegar, wine, or beer brings out the collagen from the bone marrow.  I always add a bottle of beer or a glass of wine to the crock pot.  I coached my granddaughter, Libby with the dumpling recipe and shared with her my secret ingredient, a pinch of nutmeg.  Warm, comfort food filled our dinner bowls by evening.

I do not bake much as the sugar and calories are not needed as I age.  Though I have been so inspired by the CutThroat Kitchen episodes I watched this week as well as the German influences while in Hermann, Missouri last weekend.   In my memory bank, is an old favorite this morning, blueberry-almond kuchen.  While in this rental house I have limited kitchen appliances and spices, as well as my recipe box is still at our home. By memory, I create a blueberry-vanilla kuchen.  No almonds or almond extract in the rental house pantry.  I substitute with a home-brew vanilla extract and use vanilla yogurt instead plain yogurt.  A hand beater and muscles rather than my stand-up KitchenAid cream the low-fat cream cheese, yogurt, eggs, and sugar.  Nutmeg goes in the butter crumb topping for a nutty flavor rather my standard cinnamon or cardamon left at the house.  Sweet baking aromas fill the air this Sunday morning.  Warmth filled our tummies once again.

This last day of January begins with a spectacular sunrise.  Another unseasonably warm day is in store.  Dean and I are feeling much better with a few rounds of antibiotics.  I cleaned and finished up laundry yesterday while Dean worked on one of the vehicles. With the weekend chores completed, we have this Sunday to attend Mass and go play.  An afternoon walk around the displays at the Train Show will help me burn off that serving of Blueberry-Vanilla Kuchen I indulged in this morning.

Blueberry-Vanilla Kuchen

My Cup Overflows

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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 …Sweet At Home Poem

The Gift Of Art

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My Saturday morning arrived on the sunny side of life. Awoke with plans to repot my 2-year-old plants into bigger pots. They are thriving in this rainy and mild spring into summer season. I did a few stretches while repotting and top-dressing my succulents and geraniums. Afterwards, I spent some time in the house, cleaning, laundry, and cooking for the upcoming week. By bedtime, I was sore. As I write I listen to a CD “Feather On The Breath Of God” a friend sent over my way at the office awhile ago. I suspect she herself listens to this same CD to calm her hectic lifestyle as a yoga instructor for yoga instructors as well as amateurs such as myself. The art form of yoga has been recommended to me for a few years by my physicians. Releases the tensions of the day with each pose and breathe. I am needing to keep this a daily practice. I have two colleagues reminding me each time they see me about this goal. So my achy body tells on me. Yoga every morning from here on out! The weekend warrior routine is not the way to go. Gardening, yoga, music, and writing … the gift of art. Calms my soul and keeps me healthy.

Co-Existence

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I sat in our small SUV waiting on Dean to come out with a bagful of groceries needed for the next day or two’s menu. A late Saturday evening after the comical “Always Patsy Cline” play at the Westport Playhouse, I caught 10 minutes of shut-eye with the cool night air blowing away the heat of the day. I awoke to a noise in the local grocery store parking lot, and saw in the corner of my eye a quick movement. I turned, and there stood a deer! Misplaced or in starled my presence, we froze for a second or two. Co-existence? Suddenly, off across the parking lot and into the neighboring field he ran. Strangest encounter for a late night Saturday.
Well that deer sighting didn’t stop there. On following Sunday afternoon we arrived home from the church picnic, tidying up the house before taking a nap, and Dean hollers, ” I just saw a deer run down the street”. I ask Dean which direction was the critter headed, and he pointed west. I go out the front door to investigate, and there was the deer grazing in the neighbor’s front yard, 3 doors down and across the street. I don’t believe we have ever encountered a deer on our street the whole 28 years I have lived there. When I was a child, we would see a deer or two at my childhood home and tree farm about 2 miles from where I live now. A much more rural area 40 years ago. But not on our street, and our neighborhood in a city of this size, over 50,000 people! I am not sure if this was the same deer I saw the night before, only 1 mile away from Dean and I’s home. But co-existence came again for another 30 seconds before the deer saw me staring at him. He ran off once again.Bambi
Monday morning’s traffic report: “A herd of deer are causing traffic jams in St. Peters…”. I have not seen a deer in St. Peters since. I suppose the authorities took care of matters … I enjoyed the deer while they were amongst us. But then, maybe that is what has been chewing on my daisy and mum plants? I have been blaming the rabbits and squirrels. Cannot we co-exist? I know it is not easy, but I continue to dream.

Gentle Rains

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Dragon Wing BegoniaGentle rains sprinkled the Missouri earth early last week. An even soak for our plants that just came outdoors from their winter home of the garage and back bedroom. Yesterday, I finally had a day at home to prune and primp the large moss baskets of wandering jew, Moses-in-cradle, bridal veil, and dragon-wing begonias as well as our several pots of succulents, arrowheads, and ferns. As the day went, the humidity was building up, it looked like rain 2 or 3 times before the dark cloudy skies finally broke loose come early evening. I had my hair pulled up away from my face while I worked, ringlets formed by the steamy air like I had used a curling iron. The native pets became restless as the day went. Heavy raindrops and loud claps of thunder drove Celine, our cat under the furniture. Midnight, the dog panted with nervousness. The pets seemed relieved with Dean’s arrival home from his 8-hour round trip Sunday visit to his youngest son in Springfield. Devastation as tornadoes swept south of us through Arkansas, though violent thunderstorms hit most of Missouri. A long night though the sun shined bright this morning, glistening off of ultra green leaves and grass. Prayers go out to those in Arkansas. The song There’s Got To Be A Morning After by Maureen McGovern …
There’s got to be a morning after
If we can hold on through the night
We have a chance to find the sunshine
Let’s keep on looking for the light

Oh, can’t you see the morning after?
It’s waiting right outside the storm
Why don’t we cross the bridge together
And find a place that’s safe and warm?

It’s not too late, we should be giving
Only with love can we climb
It’s not too late, not while we’re living
Let’s put our hands out in time

There’s got to be a morning after

We’re moving closer to the shore
I know, we’ll be there by tomorrow
And we’ll escape from darkness
We won’t be searching anymore

Old And Then The New

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MultiWineBottles
The happenings of today and all the yesterdays of 2013 culminate this evening. My memory fails me with the many whirlwind days of 2013, but this Word Press blog helps me recall as I read the posts. By nature I am a planner, though my heart wants to live the present day and reflect on the goodness of yesterday. Gratitude overtakes me. I have slowed down this past week, taking time off my jobs. Dean and I spent time with family in quaint settings as well as bigger celebrations during the holidays which bring much joy to our hearts. We visited our greenhouse at Boone Hollow Farm in Defiance this sunny, yet crisp afternoon. Quiet reflection. The sounds of the countryside on New Year’s Eve Day. Song birds chatter while gathering field seeds, the owl hoots “hello” in hopes to bring the night sky sooner, and the livestock holler for their last feeding of 2013. What will 2014 bring?
Three weddings in 2014 promise to keep Dean and I busy with his three grown children and their fiancees. More visits with my grandchildren in 2014. Life is too short. In 2014 our greenhouse and screenhouse will house more organic vegetables and herbs for our personal health. We will plant a flower garden for our personal pleasure, and add gems and stones my father collected, and colorful wine bottles I collected as a border. Less farmer market dates, though autumn we hope to feature more Deanna Greens And Garden Art gourds. I will dabble with paints and carving tools to create works of art with our 2013 gourds. Most have weathered well. My full-time occupation in employee wellness will undergo some changes … New sights and sounds for Dean and I to explore together.
“Life begins each morning…Each morning is the open door to a new world – new vistas, new aims, new tryings.” ~ Leigh Hodges

The Year of The Mattress

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ValhallaValhallaMap
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.

Herb Harvest

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Our dill is daintily charming, and so fragrant. Yesterday evening we harvest our 1st crop, and will put in a 2nd crop after the 4th of July holiday. Wild sunflowers and sprigs of dill fill a green vase today. Our chef son-in-law will use this 1st crop of dill to make pickles with his homegrown cucumbers. Maybe a jar or two of Hannahway Farm sun pickles are on our way?! The patriarch spice shoppe owner says in Europe dill is used in just about every dish. I love it with my baked fish and potato salad dishes. The 3rd crop of dill will go in early autumn, with plans to take as show-n-tell farm products to the City of St. Charles preschool classrooms Farmer Dean and I visit in November. Our 1st crop of basil screams pesto! Served with veggies, chicken, bread, and pasta, I cannot wait!
Dill
This week’s other farm chores include straightening and cleaning the screenhouse, putting extra pots and trays together in somewhat orderly fashion, and throwing broken items in the recycle pile. One recycled dresser is filled with “tea room” stuff, as well as a recycled tile-top table put aside for our meal and snack times. Another recycled dresser holds pots of blooming geraniums. We are making space in the screenhouse in case we need to move our plants to this cooler side of the greenhouse structure. Last year at this time the heat wave and drought was well underway in Missouri. The extreme heat required us to water two times a day, early morning and early evening. Our plants were housed under the shelter of shade trees in our yard while the greenhouse reconstruction plans were being modified until autumn when the heat subsided. The lack of rain has not been an issue this spring and early summer, thank you God! The growing gourd plants will go into the ground this weekend.
Growers, what are you harvesting now? What are you putting in for an autumn crop?