Last evening at the greenhouse was lovely. Mild, a bit of a breeze. Dean mowed as I weeded, watered, harvested a bunch of basil, and then trimmed the tomato plants. All the growing energy needs to go to the fruit, not all the leaves. We may only have another 6 weeks of producing fruit before frost sets in. As the sun sets, the owls hooted into the dusk sky and the late summer bugs hummed in unison. And then the quiet. I listen to the quiet, and the earth’s heart beat… Leaving Boone Hollow Farm we were greeted with a yellow-orange moon. The huge trees along the county roads seemed to glow yellow. Was it from the moon, or is this the first signs of autumn? As we drove from the countryside in Defiance to our St. Charles home the moon seemed to get closer. It is officially a full moon today, and it is called a “grain moon”. Also known as the “green corn moon”, “barley moon”,
and according to the Farmer’s Almanac the August full moon is known as red moon based on its color illuminating in the hazy sky or sturgeon moon named after the large number of fish caught during this month in the Great Lakes region. Here is a list of names for the moon from this internet source: https://earthsky.org/astronomy-essentials/full-moon-names:
North American full moon names by month:
January: Old Moon, Moon After Yule
February: Snow Moon, Hunger Moon, Wolf Moon
March: Sap Moon, Crow Moon, Lenten Moon
April: Grass Moon, Egg Moon, Pink Moon
May: Flower Moon, Planting Moon, Milk Moon
June: Rose Moon, Flower Moon, Strawberry Moon
July: Thunder Moon, Hay Moon
August: Green Corn Moon, Grain Moon
September: Fruit Moon, Harvest Moon
October: Harvest Moon, Hunter’s Moon
November: Hunter’s Moon, Frosty Moon, Beaver Moon
December: Cold Moon, Moon Before Yule, Long Night Moon
Missouri’s summer heats up in August. It started on the cooler side, but it is full-blown dripping hot now. The humidity does it, zaps the energy out of me. I am taking a couple of hours this afternoon in the air-conditioned cottage to reenergize myself. This summer I have managed to get a walk in every day while at work. I found a quiet, shady alley that provides some refuge from the madness in the middle of my day. Then flowers and gardening are my evening and weekend therapy. The blooms are flourishing.
This year Dean and I’s spare summer weekends are focused on repainting the window and door frames of our St. Charles cottage. Of course with a house that is 80 years old, projects are many. There is multiple layers of paint to sand down, so we get a smooth, clean coat of paint. We have found 3 layers with the front door frame and headboard. A coat of primer will go on the frame and headboard this evening, with the final white paint another “free” weekend. Then the front door is next. “Nifty turquoise” is the color of choice. Read The Turquoise Table by Kristin Schell to know why I picked this color. Stay tuned for another post to follow with a picture of our finished project.
Vacation travels took Dean and I to the east coast in historic Charleston, South Carolina this past week. We relished the art, culture, history, and summer foliage that the city offers. We captured some unforgettable vignettes with alcoves, alleys, doors, windows, churches, homes, blooms, and green gardens galore. Its great to admire the gardens of other people, but always good to bring that admiration back to the home base despite the imperfections.
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 …
The summer solstice came and went without my celebration. I am sure the earth still celebrated! Too busy I would say. Yes, I need to slow down. Family engagements and work obligations continue to press me of my time, focus, and energy. Simply watering the potted plants or making a light, summer dinner is a chore. I have not stopped long enough to smell the roses or savor the flavors of summer. I took the day off today. Had to get some reprieve from the madness, gather my thoughts. Nothing like an upset stomach and headache to slow you down. Every year it is like this just before vacation finishing up projects at work, home and yard chores, making sure all the travel details are together. The air was unsettled this morning when I went out to water the potted perennials in the back yard. Something brewing. The clouds kept rolling in. Kind of like my recent hectic days building up.
I had no groceries in the house as we have been house and pet sitting this past week for two vacationing family households. I thought I would beat the eminent storm. It was like night by the time I gathered my $30 worth of protein and veggies into the Jeep. Big wet drops started to hit the pavement and my bare arms and sandaled feet. I managed to get to the cottage before the dark clouds totally let loose. Our first summer storm. How refreshing. I read Ann Voskamp’s timely words, “A soul does not work without a sabbath…Be still and know God…and not forget who you are.” There was a time in my life when I forgot who I was. And these memories too have preyed my mind these recent days. This vacation will be good for me. For Dean, too. Different scenery, a fresh view. I think a month-long vacation or sabbatical will be in 2020. Brewing for my next season in life …
“There are some things we can never really possess; we simply take our brief turn at tending them,” writes author Dominique Browning about relationships, homes, and gardens. Our children are with us for a short time. Then gone from our homes tending to own adventures in life. Remember they belong to our heavenly Father from conception on. Our homes whether you reside for 5 or 50 years are molded to suit your needs. Then you move to establish another residence elsewhere based on new needs and desires, and for some people multiple times in your lifetime. “Summer set lip to earth’s bosom bare, and left the flushed print in a poppy there,” poet Francis Thompson writes. Gardens differ from the voluntary poppy blooming on the lakeside, a potted geranium, trays of microgreens, elaborate rows of organic beans in raised beds, to the caged tomato plants. All tended with care by the gardener and mother nature.
Jane Lewis’ song Tend Me Like a Garden defines “tending” well …
I wish you would tend me like I was a garden. Start me from scratch, babe, right from seed. You could plant me with your bare hands in the springtime. And bring me water whenever I had the need. Tend me, tend me like a garden. Love me, love me like the rain. I will give you all that you can harvest. ‘Til the first frost steals me away. Oh won’t you take me into your garden. Lie with me on this fertile ground. I will feed you with my body. And bathe you in the sunshine coming down. Tend me, tend me like a garden. Love me, love me like the rain. I will give you all that you can harvest. ‘Til the first frost steals me away. I will love you through all of the seasons. I’ll weather what the fall and summer bring. I may lie fallow in the winter. But I swear that I’ll remember you in spring. Tend me, tend me like a garden. Love me, love me like the rain. I will give you all that you can harvest. ‘Til the first frost steals me away I swear that I’ll remember you…
What relationship in your life needs tending today?
Where is the Bee—
Where is the Blush—
Where is the Hay?
Ah, said July—
Where is the Seed—
Where is the Bud—
Where is the May—
~ Emily Dickinson, Answer July
I am missing May. This July in Missouri has been a scorcher. Parched the past few days, rain finally came overnight after a 108 degree day in the St. Louis region. More is needed. I pray. Yesterday Dean and I walked Midnight late-morning. The tree leaves were turned and folded in an attempt to protect from the blasting sun rays. They made a wither y rustle when a slight breeze came by. We waited until dusk for that last walk of the day. The sun, oh so hot this summer! Yet I am reminded of its purpose by the flowering beauty of our bird of paradise, the delicate peppery flavor of arugula shoots, the calmness of green in my Swedish ivy planter, and the glimmering glass art butterflies at the Butterfly House.
Simplicity. “In a world of complexity, the best weapon is simplicity,” Price Pritchett is quoted. The simplicity of a garden is one place I find peace in this troubled world. I am an artistic gardener, rather than a scientific one. I love creating an ambiance with green life. The fragrances of fresh herbs after a soaking rain or while harvesting feed my culinary imagination for Dean and I’s next meal, cucumber salad with snippets of cilantro to cool the heat of the summer day. The beauty of August’s blooms set in a simple vase uplifts the day no matter the bad news. “To plant a garden is to believe in tomorrow,” Audrey Hepburn once said. It takes faith. “Faith isn’t the ability to believe long and far into the misty future. It’s simply taking God at His Word and taking the next step,” artist Joni Eareckson Tada tells us. So I take one step at a time, one seed at a time. “Faith as a mustard seed can move mountains” as the Bible encourages us. I believe one simple step of love leads to another and then another. Those mountains of hatred will move. Make one simple step towards peace this very evening.
“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 those who interpret life for us by pen or brush would buy a trowel and pack of seeds.” Ruth R. Blodgett.
The week-long sunshine and humidity boosted garden growth. Clean, crisp leaves of arugula and leaf lettuce will make a big bowl of salad for the family crowd this week. My sister is in town from Minnesota, cause for celebration.
Sweat beaded my neckline, and then down my back and chest as I harvest the garden greens. Already 88 at 10 am. Soon salty droplets dribble onto my lips. The greens are almost sweet before the extreme afternoon temps turn them bitter. Are not we all?
The herbs thrive in the summer heat, with plenty of water. More chives need cutting. Snipette of tender dill and cilantro came ready in a couple of days. Next week I will be freezing my surplus herbs for the winter meals. The pea blossoms produced 1-inch pea pods in a matter of a week. Plant scraps are added to the compost. Earthy goodness. Primal to my taste buds. Organic gardening..
As the summer solstice approaches we relish the vibrant blooms in the gardens and roadside, as well in our homes. Our dream is to bloom with our kin folk. Dean and I refurbished our living room, a blend of fresh and vintage. Midnight, our Labrador is ready for the companionship of kin, and is on the welcome committee at our home. In the meantime a few recent travels take us to our families in other Missouri towns. Dean is such a proud father and grandfather. He carries his digital camera to capture the moments and shares his finds with zeal.
Late April we were blessed with another grandchild. Elise is Dean’s first born grandchild. Beautiful baby. We took the occasion and traveled to meet her early May when she was less than a week old, and another one this past weekend. The last Saturday in April we honored my deceased father, aunt, and uncle with a Relay For Life team of kin at the cancer relay held downtown St. Louis. Mother’s Day was a visit to an old lookout point in St. Francois County with my daughters and their families. We had another May day trip to the Missouri Botanical Gardens with my brother and sister-in-law. And there is summer league baseball with our oldest grandson, Brendan. The first weekend in June we celebrated the 30-year birthday of Dean’s daughter, Liz as well as the birth of our youngest grandchild, Elise.
“Let us be grateful for the people that make us happy, they are the charming gardeners that make our souls blossom.” Marcel Proust