Images of Autumn: Harvest Time

Joe digs, the girls find the treasures

What do we have here?

Donna shows us one of the teeny-tinies

Stella shows off three nice ones

Inge displays one of the larger potatoes

Not a great harvest, but it will make a few meals anyway

L to R  Donna shows our seconds, small, medium, and large potatoes

I boiled up the tiny ones for supper that night.

Mint leaves to dry for herbal tea

Some spring photos after the long winter

I know, I'm jumping the gun just a little here, calling it spring.  But I think last night was the first below zero night in about a week, so really, that's pretty springy if you ask me. 

I was tempted to take my book out on my front porch, well bundled in blankets, and with my coffee in a thermal cup.  Weather underground says it's 7 °F.

That white wicker love seat looks pretty inviting in the morning sun, does it not?

But before I got comfortable, I looked around a bit.

We're starting to see some earth up by the house.  I can't wait for my perennials to start showing themselves.

The snow is mostly melted off some grassy areas near the driveway.  And you can see a bit of soil in the field south of the church parking lot.

It will be awhile yet, before we can get the van into the detached garage.  If you look closely, you can still see the remains of the edge where Todd and others were plowing for us earlier in the winter.  Eventually they just gave up, since it drifted back in every night and often during the day, too.  We'd go out and not be able to get back in.  Or in the morning, the kids racing to school would find the van stuck out there with no easy way to get it out.

I think it will take some time before the mountain of snow from clearing the driveway is gone.

I won't be hanging out clothes just yet.  And that baby swing that hangs from the far end of the clothes line, ...  Yeah, I know, I don't have any babies, ... but the smaller kids still sometimes like to climb in it while I'm out there working, ... nobody will be swinging today.

We won't be getting any laying hens this week.

But the cat has been enjoying the shelter of the chicken house all winter.  Last fall Clara hung a bit of cloth in front of the chicken door.  She put the cat house inside, and hung another old blanket around it to shelter it further from the drafts.  Talk about luxury.  But I think the cat needed it this winter. 

The kids learned that the electrical box gives off a certain amount of heat.  One of them fell through the snow that had drifted over.  They discovered the little cave surrounding it a few weeks ago. 

It reminds us to be thankful for electricity and all the other many luxuries that make even such an extreme winter as we've had much easier than those through which generations past had to manage.

After my little tour of the "winter into spring time" yard, I decided it wasn't quite warm enough to have my coffee outside.  Even bundled in a couple layers of blanket.

To the Daffodil

I made this photo for my facebook, and I like it so well, I wanted to put it here, too.  I love the greens and yellows together.  I love the poem.  I love daffodils.  We're still waiting to see them here this year, but a woman can dream.  The original photo was from my friend Karin, and of her spring gardens in northern Indiana.

Another text I had considered including was the Daffodowndilly traditional English rhyme,

Daffodowndilly 

Is new come to town

In a yellow petticoat 

And a green gown.

And as long as we're on the subject, here are a few other choice daffodil tidbits.

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
~William Wordsworth, "I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud," 1804

When I bought my farm, I did not know what a bargain I had in the bluebirds, daffodils and thrushes; as little did I know what sublime mornings and sunsets I was buying.
~Ralph Waldo Emerson

The daffodil is our doorside queen; 

She pushes upward the sword already, 

To spot with sunshine the early green.

~William Cullen Bryant

Sun Dappled Mornings

Dappled.  Isn't that a great word?  It conjures up images of speckled ponies and shady grass with the sun glinting through.  Lazy days at Grandma's house lying around her yard and looking up at the sky through the branches of the trees.  Were they ash?  Elm?  Poplar?  I don't remember.  But I loved my grandma's yard, and the sound of the wind in those trees, and the shade and sun playing across the lawn, and the green and blue when I looked up into the sky.

Right now the shade from my hanging basket of petunias is dappling the white wicker chair across the porch from me.  As it sways in the very gentle breeze, the shadow shifts and shudders into an every-changing show of white and gray.

Adjacent to the wicker chair is a planter into which I did not put any pretty plants this spring.  It's a biggish planter, so I don't move it for the winter.  It sits through all the cold and gray of winter, and waits for good things to come its way in the spring.  But this year it didn't get any colorful plantings.

At first.

In spite of not having discretionary funding to use on pretty potted plants this year, my big porch planter has now had some good things come its way. 

One of the projects the kids made in VBS the other week was these decorative garden stakes.  They are cute as can be.  Since I had six little ones in VBS, I have six garden stakes.  So instead of sticking them in the dirt here and there around my gardens, I tucked them all into my big front porch planter to make a bouquet of my children's colorful handprint flower blossoms.  It's fun to see as I sit and have my coffee.

Beyond the porch railing, and further yet beyond the southern perimeter of the yard, the neighbors' hay field is looking beautiful in the sunlight of this summer morning.  The round bales are scattered across the landscape.  They have dried from the grayish green with which they pop out of the baler, to a soft golden hue.  The new growth of the alfalfa is coming up a fresh green around them.  This particular view is one of the great blessings of living where we do. 

(I have only the webcam on my laptop this morning.  I tried to take a photo of the above scene, but the quality was not lovely enough to want to share.  If you use your imagination with the above description, you'll end up with a finer end product than my camera and photographic skills could produce.)

The bees are buzzing all around me, and the birds are twittering in the trees.  I can hear the kids starting to stir in the house, which means it's time to start to think about getting things rolling.  We have 11:00 church this morning, so there is no real rush.  But somehow, it always ends up in a rush by the time 11:00 rolls around.  The most likely culprit:  too much sitting on my porch to enjoy the view.

Wonderful morning here in the northland

Happy Father's Day to all you fathers out there. 

It's a great day here today.  I'm relishing the peaceful morning on my front porch hide-away.  I brought a book out, but haven't even opened it.  I left my computer inside for the first cup of coffee and just enjoyed my day.  It was so wonderful to look and listen and breath in all the spring-time life around me.  Then when I went in to fill my coffee cup, I couldn't resist.  I had to bring my computer out and share with the world all the wonder around me.

My favorite view this morning is to the east of me. 

As I look that direction, right up near me, on the porch itself, is my white wicker loveseat.  Joe splurged last summer.  That and two chairs were my Mother's Day/Birthday presents.  I love, love, love them. 

I also see the beautiful planter that my friend, Lana, gave me for my birthday this year.  It's filled with Laura Bush Petunias which are a bright and happy, almost glowing shade of pink.  There is also a contrasting purplish plant for contrast, of which I've forgotten the name. 

Peaking through the rungs of the porch railing is the topmost branches of my climbing rose which started blooming this week.  It blooms deep red, but not deep in a puplish way, just a pure deep red. can see three big blooms peaking over the floor of the porch.  By the end of summer, it will be twined in amongst all that edge of the railing and tantalizing us with it's blooms and fragrance all around that white wicker loveseat.  It hasn't yet poked at anyone with it's thorns, but if it gets bigger yet than it did last year, it might be a problem.  I'm waiting to see if I have to move it eventually.

Further out from the porch, across the lawn at the south-east edge of our house, I see the wooden bench Joe made a few years ago.  It's sitting cozily between and beneath two lilacs. 

Just past that is a mound of rhubarb which I love so well this time of year.  Then I see two more lilacs.  There is actually a third, but it met a sad fate last year with the lawn mower and so is still recovering.  The little teeny, tiny bit of it that is just showing above the lawn is not one of the glorious things about the east facing view.

But continuing with the good and wonderful view, we have a poplar at that edge of the property that must have had it's top knocked off before we moved here, when it was just a baby.  It has always grown full and round and very un-poplarish.  There are about six or eight branches that branch out at about three feet.  From there on up it is very round and pretty. 

So on to the best part of the view.  Imagine with me, if you will.  I look out and in the periphery of my left side, I see the eaves of the house.  And just below that, is the green and rounded top of my nearest lilac.  These remain in the near periphery only.  They are not the highlight of my view, but create the left edge frame.  Just further out, but still in the yard, at the right edge of the view, creating a frame all along that side, is that round and glittering green poplar, with the morning sky showing through behind it.

Now continue with me, out past those two near edges, in the middle of the view, out across the waving grass of the CRP field perhaps 100 yards, is a fenceline that marks the neighbor's pasture.  And beyond that, grazing peacefully, stand about fifteen mother cows and their calves.  Some are milling about.  Some are standing still, with heads down, eating their fill of the spring pasture greens.  Some are lying down quietly ruminating on the morning loveliness. 

As I gaze out at this, there is playing in the background, the gentle sound of the morning breeze, filtering through the leaves of the poplars.  The sunlight is glinting off these leaves as they sway in the wind.

The birds are twittering. 

In the foreground, across my lawn and flower beds are scattered my little flock of chickens.  Periodically, one of the roosters will crow.  There is a gentle clucking here and there.

Ah.  Idyllic.

OK, truthfully, as I was writing that last part about the chickens, one of the smaller roosters must have approached one of the hens too closely or been standing in the wrong spot or something becasue there broke out a huge rooster squabble, fluttering of wings and screeching and a brief attack, until the interloper remembered his place in the pecking order.

It wasn't at all peaceful.

It was such a funny backdrop to the quiet morning scene I had just finished describing that I had to tell you about it.

Haha!  I heard another ruckus just now.  I looked out to see our two smallish roosters chasing one of the hens.  They were running around all over the front yard squawking.  The chase was on.  Then, with the heroic music in the background, imagine please the drum roll, dunt-du-du-DAAAAA!  The big white leghorn rooster we call Foghorn, the hero of this tale, noticed the altercation.  He came running to the aid of the damsel. His wings were spread out all a-flutter.  His one thought, the protection of his girl from the unwanted attention. 

Ok, well, maybe that's too romanticized, too.   Probably he was just thinking, "Get away from her, you upstart.  She is mine.  I'm the only one who can chase her in that way."

Happy morning, everyone!

Springtime is for Healing and Hope and New Growth and New Life

I worked in my yard yesterday.  It made me happy.  What a good feeling...to be able to feel the emotions of happiness, peace, and contentment.  To feel them pulsing through me like blood!

As I've mentioned before, last fall much of my front flower beds was torn up.  That frustrated me, although I understand why it had to be done.  It frustrated me because when we moved here, the yard was so very bare and the house was so very white and shiny new.  It was...hmmm... how shall I say this? how to find words?  I am from Washington state where we have hills and trees and curves.  Oh, and people.  I grew up in a semi-urban area.  I was surrounded by town, although many of the places we lived were somewhat removed from the hubbub of the suburbia. 

We moved here and it was winter.  It was white and gray.  And open.  Very open.  We can see for miles from our house.  I don't exaggerate.  It's flat.  It's open.  And everyone knows everyone.  The house was new, so only had a few rows of baby trees around it, and very few landscaping plants.  I felt naked and exposed.  And the sameness of the surrounding area was an emotional assault to my senses.  There was so little variation in texture or color.  That sounds extreme and even a bit unkind.  But so it was. 

So when those bushes that were finally full and big, and which I had lovingly nurtured for nine summers, had to come out, to be ripped violently from their safe little places, I have to admit, it was a hard day.  I was not happy.  I kept telling myself that I oughtn't to love the things of this world.  But we do, don't we?  All of us do.  We can't help it.  God has given us so much wealth and beauty in our material possessions.  There is a fine line between appreciating and enjoying such blessings, and becoming too strongly attached to them.

Our financial situation this spring is such that I don't feel as though I can invest in any perennials to fill up the bare bed area that was quickly filling in with weeds.  It was yet another job looming and staring me in the face.  But what to put there?  What to do with that space?  Do I plant grass and call it good?  Do we cover it with black plastic for the summer to keep the weeds down?  Do I stare at the dirt and weeds all summer?  I was at a mental block with the situation.

My kids and I like to fill pots with annual flowers for around our porch and driveway corners.  It's one of the great joys of my summer.  Usually I take at least some of the kids, sometimes all of them, and we head to one of the big nurseries or greenhouses in the region.   I pick out some of the plants, but I also let the kids choose others.  Then we bring them all home and spend a couple of days arranging pots for all the kids.  They get to help me pick the plants to put in.  They help arrange them in the pots.  And then we arrange all of the pots around our front yard living areas, so that they continue to please us all summer long.  Some of the kids usually choose to put these planters in the county fair.  The whole process is something we really enjoy doing together.

But again, financially, I can't justify spending the money on such an indulgent thing this year.  As I'm sure everyone else has noticed, the price of groceries has absolutely skyrocketed.  Between that and the cost of  fuel, we just can't do it this year.  It was always a splurge.  Always indulgent.  But it was something that brought us so much pleasure that it was worth it to cut corners other places to be able to do it.  But this year, I've told the kids, we don't have money for luxuries.  There is little left to cut.

But then, suddenly, on Thursday, I was blessed with the living gift of plants.  From two directions. 

One of my walking buddies, Lana, brought over a bunch of her extra plants.  She brought some garden seedlings, squash and tomatoes.  She brought some perennials that she had dug out of her beds.  She also had a little six pack of snap dragons left over.  I felt rich!

That same day, I heard from another friend, Allie, who runs a little shop and greenhouse in Thief River Falls.  She and her parents decided to go together and provide us with whatever plants from her greenhouse I wanted to choose.  They would cover the cost!  Another blessing! 

Allie is having a big sale this weekend, so she recommended I come before the weekend to get some good ones.  I chose several six packs of tomatoes, a couple varieties of hot peppers, some cabbage and broccoli, and three different squash/pumpkin type things.  I was going to splurge a little and pick out one of Allie's beautiful hanging baskets of petunias, which I felt I ought to pay for myself.  But of course she would not let me.  She also encouraged me to pick out a couple other "just for fun" things, so I chose some perennials, daisies and lupines for the naked flowerbed; and an old-fashioned white enamel pot with red trim, filled with cosmos for my front porch. 

I'm going to stick a parenthetic paragraph in here to promote Allie's shop, The Shed, on MN Hwy 1, three miles east of Thief River Falls.  Allie describes her inventory as shabby-chic.  She has a selection of antiques, some remade items, many locally hand-crafted things, some quirky-fun items.  A little of this and a little of that.  This spring Allie had a wonderful greenhouse, and sponsored a perennial swap for area gardeners.  She has handmade wooden yard furniture and garden art for sale, such as picnic tables, patio sets, trellises, and arches.  She's done a great job with the store.  Go check it out sometime. 

As one further aside, Allie is having brain surgery next week to have a cyst removed that has been growing and pressing on some important brain cells.  I pray for her full recovery.  And for God to grant her and her family an extra measure of His peace and comfort as they go through this very frightening time.

Veering back now to talk more about my yard work, which seems so trite compared to brain surgery, ... Because of the kindness and generosity of these friends, I was able to fill in about a third of the naked flower bed.  We are well supplied with bedding plants for the garden.  And I am even now sitting on my front porch gazing upon my beautiful hanging basket of petunias.  They are a deep purple and a salmony pink, glowing in the morning sunshine, and swaying gently in the breeze.  Such a pretty sight.  I have snap dragons in two of my pots in two corners of my front porch.  It will be fun to see in a few weeks what colors they will bloom.  And I have this cute little enamel pot topped with tall cosmos whose blossoms are just beginning to swell in preparation for opening. 

I may see if one of the local greenhouses has some basics left, and on sale.  Nothing fancy or expensive, but maybe a couple of six packs of marigolds and moss roses.  Some petunias and verbena.  Perhaps some salvia.  We can get by with that; and the kids can create some pretty arrangements for their pots.  We will have to wait and see what I can find.

But even if we only are able to have what we have now, what a blessing!  What a joy!  Living and growing things to enjoy, both all this summer and in years to come!

Thank you, my friends!