Back 2 Blogging

It's only 11:30, so if I hurry I can still do today's assignment. I need to write this week. Things are not going well and I am bottling up too much inside, so maybe this is the kick in the pants I need. Back in March 2009, I awoke to a gorgeous morning. Wanted to write about it, so I started this blog. So, welcome to day one.


Little House in the Snow Storm

I HATE snow, but this is the most gorgeous morning I have ever seen. It's only the third largest snow I can remember, but by far the prettiest.

The biggest was 1979 in DC when we got more than twenty inches, but I was too worried about missing a day of work to enjoy it. I shoveled for hours to get my car cleared, before realizing that work was out of the question - we were off three days, but I had wasted the best one. The second largest happened in 1983, but we were in Charleston and drove home to it, so we missed the first day ah ha experience. And the most fun was 1966 in Williamsburg. We got about eight inches over spring break. As one of fewer than 50 "women" who had stayed at school, I spent two days wandering all over town with my "day student" friends - played on the golf course, learned to play pool, and had a wonderful time.

But this is Laura Ingalls Wilder snow. At least eight inches on the back deck. It's still coming down and blowing and almost a white out. Huge cardinals in the trees all hunkered down and puffed to the max. The bird feeders are covered with finches and the occasional woodpecker, and all the small birds taking shelter underneath the table on the deck - with its snow hat.

It brings back a primal memory I have of snow in Lafayette, Indiana, when I was about four and the snow seemed to cover the windows. It's not that deep, really, but has that same heavy blanket feel.

I'll be tired of it by noon and will hate it by noon tomorrow, but for this morning I think I will glory in it for a while - and take some pictures. Later I will worry about the shrubs, but for right now they can just be lovely lumps of cream.

Wishing all of you good conditions, altho I know some of you are also getting a bit of this frosting. For now, I'm going back to my fire and watch the birds out the window.

Wednesday Workday - Finally Back in the Garden

What is it about Labor Day? Can Mother Nature read?

It certainly seems - well, actually "feels" - that way. As in so many previous years, August was hazy, not and humid; so many unbearable days; so many days hiding inside in the air conditioning. Then, "click".

Labor Day came and brought with it deepening blue skies, wispy clouds and - poof! - the humidity disappeared. It has been lovely this week and comfortable. So nice, in fact, that I finally got out and did some - gasp! - weeding.

The garden is in pretty good shape considering how little attention I have given it this summer. Twice-a-week watering has certainly helped, but like all well-established gardens, this one has held its own. And more than that, the fall blooming flush has begun.

Many spring flowers that stopped blooming early have decided that they have a bit more to say. Like the Evening Primrose, several of the clematis are blooming again. This one is particularly gorgeous with rich, dark blue flowers that are nearly six inches across.







The miniature roses are blooming again, too, and the first of the fall bloomers are starting. Last week one of my favorite sedums (seda? I think not!) bloomed. I can't remember it's full name, but I will. This one grows only eight inches tall, but is lovely.


The Obedient Plant has gone wild... as it is wont to do. The "obedient" in its name refers to the way one can twist or shape a stalk to grow in a particular way and definitely not to its staying where one puts it. It is highly invasive in this part of the world, so I spend a good bit of weeding time annually removing it from places where I don't want it. But you have to admit that it makes a lovely swath in the "understory" of plants, and it brings both light and color to a dark part of the garden.

The Gift of Time

My senior year in college was the last time that Bro and I lived less than 500 miles apart. Although we attended the same college that year and saw a good bit of each other, his career soon led him to Georgia, while I have remained a confirmed Virginian. We love each other dearly, but we have not spent enough time together as adults to be close friends. So, it has meant a lot to me that he has pulled up stakes the past two weekends to come help out with closing Mother's apartment and preparing to move her to a nursing home.

Three weeks ago it looked like she would be returning to her apartment - perhaps with more "assistance" [as they say in the elder health care racket] - but that is not to be. Both her mental and physical state have declined rapidly and we are now looking for suitable nursing homes in both states so that one of us can be close enough to keep a good watch on her in the coming months. We will soon have to choose where and when to move her. Which leads us to cleaning out, sorting thru, and packing up what she's collected and saved in 80+ years of life. And, Bro has pitched in and been here to help with it all.

Last weekend he arrived prepared to move her to an assisted living space, but when it became obvious that she needs more care than that, he was right there to help. He was totally supportive of making the decisions as quickly as we needed to and moving on to implement all the details. This weekend he brought his wife and teenage children who helped pack and tote, and worked hard getting GrandNell's apartment ready to show. Mitchell and the World's Best Nephew carried out 50 loads of trash and filled the storage unit with packed boxes, while the World's Best Niece helped me sort thru clothing and linens and packed most of those boxes. My sister-in-law sorted out what gets donated to Goodwill and what we should try to sell first.

They visited with Mother and shared old family stories while sitting out on a sunny post-Earl afternoon. Bro and I shared remembrances, looked in amazement at the things she had saved - like every letter either of us ever wrote to her. Bro's stack was two; mine much larger! We found photos that we had never seen before and brought home four cartons to be sorted on cold winter nights! We found my grandfather's fez and my great grandmother's wedding shoes. Mom's rolling pin and the metal measuring cup that was used for two generations' worth of Christmas cookies. Her baby dress and mine. All of the handmade gifts she received from two young children... and so much more.

We talked for hours about what to do and when and how. We shared our thoughts and feelings and we got to know each other all over again. I suspect that we will see more of each other in the coming months because wherever Mother moves, one of us will be traveling a bit more often to see her. But, in a strange way this health crisis has given us all the gift of time spent together sharing and a new adult friendship. Not a terrible outcome at all.

Wednesday [Friday] Workday

Finally! A successful crop!

I've complained all summer about how hot and dry it has been and what havoc that has wreaked on my garden, so that I am almost hesitant to tell you about my big success - okra!

If you are not southern, you may not know much about okra. It's a strange looking veggie with a distinctive taste, that lots of folks never get a chance to eat. Good file' gumbo from New Orleans includes it, and extra good Brunswick stew. You can get it battered and deep fried at Cracker Barrel and S & W Cafeteria, but it's not the first thing that jumps to mind when someone says, 'Hey, what green veggie would you like for dinner tonight?"

Even if you are southern, you may have grown up [not] eating it in the elementary school cafeteria where they cooked it to slime. Not appetizing!

So, how did I come to grow it and to actually like it? Well, batter and deep fry anything and I'm your girl! We always buy some at a farm stand in the summer and fry it, but in May someone - I don't even remember who - gave me their leftover starter plants. About 12 of them. I plunked them in the ground, watered regularly and then came the heat and humidity. Voila! Okra loves it.

First thing I knew I was cutting a dozen pods a night and having more than I could possibly eat alone. You know how hard it is to give away your extra zucchini? Well, triple that. Clearly, we needed another way to eat it. So, I fell back on the southern tradition of okra and tomatoes, and after experimenting a couple of nights, I found the right combination. So, if you're game to try something new (and can find some fresh okra at a farmer's market), here's what you do.

Okra and Tomatoes

2 cups okra - cut in coins
1-2 cups chopped tomatoes
1/2 - 1 cup chopped onion
1/4 - 1/2 cup chopped green (or red) onions
1 Tablespoon of Canola oil
Salt and pepper to taste.

Saute' the onion and pepper in the oil until a little soft. Add the okra and cook for about 5 minutes. Add the tomatoes and saute another 5 minutes. Then cover, reduce the heat to medium low and simmer 10 - 15 minutes. Season to taste. (Serves four.)

As Flower Jane would say, "easy peasy"! If you really overcook the okra, it will become slimy. Promise! But 20 - 30 minutes total cooking time works fine. You can fine tune the onion and peppers to taste, and you may find that you like the okra a little firmer or a little softer so you can increase or decrease the total cooking time accordingly. Try it. You'll like it!