Winter Cold and The Secret Staircase

Lovely stories are contained in the series~
I'll be reading them to Julia soon.

Winter has arrived with a vengeance and making it all the more cold is the cutting wind and drizzle. It reminds me of the winter storms which took place in January of 1986 when we had weeks of icy cold and snow. I shall never forget it because my sister was visiting with my two small nieces... being house bound with eight children under the age of nine is unforgettable!

About this time in December I am reminded of passages from one my favorite children’s books, The Secret Staircase, by Jill Barklem. The series of her stories stars a clan of adorable mice living in a charming, twisted, ancient Oak full of secret rooms within. The festivities portrayed are the old Anglo-Saxon celebrations of the Yule season. Yule is the ancient word for the months of December and January; December was “the former Yule”, and January “the after Yule”. The Vikings burned a Yule log to honor Thor, their god of war.

Originally designed to as a way to keep winter at bay and people from going mad from loneliness or cold, these festivities are still incorporated into the way we celebrate the season... with the addition of Jesus as our Christian centerpiece. Many of our holiday traditions including banquets, greenery, generosity, and cheer come directly from these ancient pagan customs.

The little poem in the book is rather timely considering the season and the cold we are experiencing lately:

Midwinter
When the days are the shortest, the nights are the coldest,
The frost is the sharpest, the year is the oldest,
The sun is the weakest, the wind is the hardest,
The snow is the deepest, the skies are the darkest,
Polish your whiskers, and tidy your nest,
And dress in your richest, and finest, and best….
For winter has brought you the worst it can bring,
And now it will give you,
the promise of Spring!

Give A Bird Feeder For Christmas!

My uncomplicated feeder allows Mr. Squirrel to eat too!

It seems Old Man Winter has arrived just in time for Christmas this year so perhaps we will have a white one! It is time to begin feeding the birds in earnest for from now until spring when bugs hatch they will need our help. For those who have procrastinated and have no desire to brave the mall, a feeder would make a lovely gift... bird watching is a joy for both young and old. If you add a bag of high quality feed and an informative bird book, your gift will provide enjoyment all winter! And all of it is available at local hardware stores!

Many beautiful songbirds spend the winter performing and with no leaves to hide their antics they are a delight to watch. Once you begin feeding you will discover the reason so many people find great enjoyment in bird watching for each species has personality traits singularly characteristic to their individual group.

The Blue Jays are excitable, boisterous, rather the bullies who always travel in a gang. They are like the boys who spend too much time at the gym working out! The Cardinals are polite, laid back, and lacking in aggression, much like the Catholic Cardinals whom I am convinced borrowed their color. All species of the Woodpecker family demand and receive respect; their beaks are daunting and their presence will clear the feeder immediately. The darling finches squabble and tumble about while the Black Capped Chickadee and timid Titmouse dart in-and-out for sunflower seeds. The wonderfully enthusiastic Sparrows are mentioned numerous times in both the Old and New Testaments of the Bible.

A standard mix of wild bird feed is easily affordable and will draw many birds to your feeder. If you add thistle to the mix the Chickadees will be grateful; add more sunflower seeds and the Cardinals will adore you. Birds eat in regular intervals during the day much as we eat breakfast, lunch and dinner. For this reason the feeder is sometimes chaotically busy with all species feeding together in a feathered frenzy while other times the feeder stands alone. Word spreads quickly among the bird community and people with a feeder find themselves highly popular this time of year.

Despite the warnings all over the Internet about the perils of leaving the feeder untidy, I have never cleaned, cloroxed, or fussed over mine. Nor have I worn gloves as suggested for dumping the feed or sweeping off the hulls... bird feeding and watching is a rather uncomplicated hobby. Merry Christmas!

Meeting Angels Unawares

It was late December and our children were still little so naturally we were broke. Christmas was coming and although we were not extravagant, we still provided special food and thoughtful gifts for all eight of them. We were entering the on ramp on I-40 to drive home from a grocery excursion and saw an elderly gentleman standing on the side of the hi-way, leaning on a wooden crutch. He was about 75 with a stubble of beard, dressed in ragged clothing, wearing an old gray hat. His belongings were in a small stained bag, and he had an old woolen blanket pulled tightly about him. I felt sudden sadness upon seeing him and asked Michael if we should stop. He said no because we had three of the children with us and he would have to squeeze him in the backseat with them. He said that surely someone would pick the old gent up for me not to worry. And yet both of us felt a nagging sadness at the old man’s plight.

The following morning we realized we had forgotten some necessary items and again made the twenty mile run to the adjacent town. It was overcast, drizzling and a very cold blasting North wind made conditions miserable. As we drove I asked Michael if he thought someone had picked up the old man. He promised me that surely someone had. We bought the last of our necessities and had only forty dollars left as we entered the on ramp.

Sweet Jesus, he was still there! How could he still be there? We stopped just beyond the old man and Michael got out of the car to help him to his seat. He settled in and I turned the heater to warp while he began thanking us. He said he was trying to make it the Indian Pueblos in New Mexico where he knew he could stay for the winter. He was Canadian and had served in WWII for the US but had been denied benefits due to his citizenship status. He had fallen on hard times and just needed a bus ticket to get on his way but could find no help in getting one. He had been standing on the side of the road for many days.

Michael suggested that we take him 15 miles to the Travel Plaza where all of the truckers stopped for gas and that perhaps he could find a ride from someone there. He gratefully accepted the idea and said he was warming up a bit. Michael stopped at the plaza and pressed our last forty dollars into the gentleman’s hand as he helped him into the building.

As we drove away we kept feeling a nagging worry and so after unloading our bundles, we drove the seven miles back to the plaza to check on him to see if he had gotten a ride. Our inquiries were met with puzzled looks for no one knew what we were talking about. No one had seen him... not the people Michael had nodded to as he opened the door, not gas attendants nor any the truckers. Only we had seen him and I have often wondered if he was there as a holy test for us... a test of our humanity, our faith, and to show our children by example how to generously love.

As this recession deepens, let us remember that many times our sense of compassion, our sense of brotherhood and our ability to unconditionally share with those less fortunate than ourselves may be tested.

And let us remember:
‘Forget not to show love unto strangers for thereby some have entertained angels unawares‘. Hebrews 13:2

*This was written years ago, but is very timely today. In retrospect, the gentleman looked very much like Odin.

The Poinsettia

In the 1800’s the holiday flower of choice was the carnation which still graces many arrangements, however today the Poinsettia has come to speak of the holidays as no other. The Poinsettia began as a small Central American shrub and for centuries the Aztecs used them both medicinally and for making red dye. The Poinsettia was first introduced to the United States in 1825 by Joel Robert Poinsett, the first United States ambassador to Mexico who discovered it while hiking. Quite an ambitious gentleman, Mr. Poinsett introduced the American Elm to Mexico and also established the Smithsonian Institution in Washington, D.C.

Contrary to popular belief, Poinsettias are not poisonous if ingested. The rumor began following the death of an army officer's child who ingested a leaf in 1919; the child died soon after of another sudden illness. Researchers at Ohio State University have done extensive tests with mice and rats and found no ill effects and the American Medical Association has confirmed the plant is not poisonous. (Michael's father is a physician and the myth was so extensive that they never had one in their home.) Although not poisonous, Poinsettias are a part of the genus Euphorbia , all of which exude a milky sap when broken and in many species the sap may cause a skin rash.

The Poinsettia we know today is the creation of the Ecke family of German botanists who arrived in America in 1900. Paul Ecke Jr. noted there were few potted plants that bloom in winter so he developed a full and sturdy Poinsettia that would bloom at Christmas. He then solicited editors of women’s magazines and donated his plants to be used in Christmas layouts. He also donated hundreds to be used as the backdrop on television talk shows at Christmas in the 1960’s. The placement of layers of red Poinsettias behind Johnny Carson and Jack Benny was a brilliant marketing ploy and assured the Ecke family lasting leadership in the industry. Today eighty percent of the Poinsettias marketed during the season still come from the Ecke Ranch in Encinitas, California where the generations of the family continue the legacy.

When selecting a Poinsettia look for a plant with dark-green foliage, completely colored bracts, and no sign of wilting or yellowing. Since the plants are sold during December it is important to make sure it is securely wrapped when purchased to prevent exposure to the elements as it is rushed from the store to the car, then the house. Since they are from a hot climate, exposure to cold may prove fatal and cause instant curling of the leaves. When you get your poinsettia home unwrap it and place it in a comfortable sunny location and water whenever the soil feels dry. Enjoy!

~Dedicated to my friend Bruce who can make his rebloom!

Farmer's Almanac... Indispensable!

Entrance to the former study circa 1980~

Last January, after consulting the Almanac, I wrote an article about the coming winter and it was correct in predicting the Winter of 2011 would be one for the record books. The Almanac, published since 1792, had noted many signs that indicate the approach of a dreadful winter. One of them was ‘rodents eating their way into the house through doors’. In spite of the fact I am surrounded by fields, this had never been a problem before last December.

I digress:
In the late sixties through the seventies auctions were prevalent and items were inexpensive. It was great entertainment to meet with friends and go shopping for one-of-a-kind items. In 1977 at an auction featuring goods from England I bought my fallow deer horns from Sherwood Forest, a raucous five paneled painting of the (now banned) hunt, an intricate iron bed, and a charming door originally from a row house. The entire lot cost under $75!

The marvelous door, made of sturdy English oak, had a perfect stained glass window and was in pristine condition... and with the traffic at this house it survived amazingly well. It must have been opened and closed at least sixty times a day and has been claw scarred by full-back-sized Mastiffs demanding entrance. Sometime along the way the lead in the glass of the window became loose and eventually had to be replaced by glass. When the little study was replaced by the great room the door became the entrance to the mud room. Only English Oak could have withstood the onslaught, requiring only an occasional layer of paint to refresh it.

Unbelievable! And where is a cat when you need one?

December of 2010:
Enter a new breed of mouse... a monstrous mouse the like of which I have never seen before. I have always had field mice and deer mice surrounding my home, and they seem cute (at a distance) but this new and nasty mouse was an anomaly! It had a sharply pointed face, narrowed glinting eyes, a dull brown coat... and apparently the sharpest teeth on the planet. On a single night in early December one (or a raucous crowd of them) ate a hole in my marvelous back door leaving a pile of wood shavings on the stoop! Naturally a board had to be added to give further life to my door. And naturally there ensued a rush to the hardware store for an assortment of mouse-killing remedies. The Almanac was correct!

Mistletoe

Mistletoe has a long and colorful history including myth and medicinal remedies most originating in Northern Europe, the birth place of this extraordinary plant... it is amazing!

All Mistletoe plants are parasitic, meaning they attach to a host and thus take from it nutrients and water necessary to live. Over time this process may weaken or even kill the host, giving Mistletoe a rather bad reputation. In the plant kingdom, parasitism has evolved only nine times and Mistletoe has independently evolved five, making it one extraordinary species. It is a large family with over nine hundred species located in Europe, North America and Australia. Without becoming too scientific, it is safe to say that most Mistletoe is completely self-sufficient and adaptive to changes in climate.

The enigma of Mistletoe easily lends itself to lore. It hangs air born between heaven and earth, has no roots yet bears fruit, and remains green and vibrant during the winter months. It was said to have been revered by the Druids as most holy, especially if it appeared on an Oak which was their most sacred tree. The golden berries of the plant were considered a key linking the heavens and underworld. Cut with a golden sickle on December 23rd (the day of the marriage of the solar and lunar forces), it was not allowed to touch the ground but was caught with a white cloth. Two white bulls were sacrificed for the ritual which ensured fertility, protection from evil, abundance, and harmony. The ritual of kissing under the Mistletoe has its origin in these pagan beliefs.

Shakespeare calls Mistletoe 'the baleful Mistletoe,' an allusion to the legend of Balder. Norse mythology has Baldur, the solar hero child of Frigg and Odin, killed by an arrow made of Mistletoe. As Baldur descended to the Underworld, it was said that he would not return until after doomsday. Then, as the solar god, the light of the heavens, he would usher in an era of peace and light to mankind. His story is long, full of conspiracy and jealousy as the gods and goddesses of old were prone to petty emotions, however the historical power of the plant has remained.

Never to be outdone, the Greeks too have a story with Mistletoe as the centerpiece. Aeneas, a young hero, used the power of a golden bough of Mistletoe as the key which allowed for the safe entrance and return of a mortal to the Underworld. He went below and sought his father for advice and counsel and returned unharmed yet transformed and spiritually reborn.

Among Christians, it is said that Mistletoe was once a vibrant tree which was used as the wood for the cross of the crucifixion of Christ. Afterwards the disgraced tree shriveled and was reduced to a parasitic vine as punishment.

Medicinally, although the berries are poisonous, it has been used as a remedy for epilepsy with wood amulets said to ward off attacks. It has been used to reduce stress related heart palpations, relieve headaches and dizziness caused by high blood pressure, and since ancient times to treat tumors. Recent medical research has promising results with Mistletoe as a cure for cancer.

Whatever the reason to include this marvelous plant... a kiss below it, a wish for good luck, or simply a spot of bright green color... it is truly a magical addition to any Christmas decor.

*Thanks to Malcolm Brown for contributing to this article!

The Christmas Tree

For those who garden, observing the weather changes is practically a religion, practiced as a daily devotional. This week winter has arrived complete with blustery winds and drastically dropping temperatures... December is here in full force.

The lovely evergreens have begun their seasonal show and it is always impressive that they choose the winter, as the world is encased in frosty slumber, to appear in their finery. Bearing fruit or berries despite the cold of winter, they have always been considered quite remarkable and were an important aspect of ancient pagan rituals.

The Romans considered evergreens symbols of fertility and used them to trim their homes for the new year while northern Europeans hung them over doors to ward off evil spirits that were believed to stalk the winter landscape. German and Scandinavian people had long made evergreen wreaths to celebrate the Winter Solstice and over time were included in their celebrations of the birth of Jesus.

It is said that Martin Luther began the German tradition of decorating trees. In about 1500 as he was walking through a snow covered forest, he was struck by the beauty of dusted evergreens shimmering in the moonlight. So enamored was he by the natural beauty that he placed a tree inside for his children, decorated with lit candles symbolizing the starry sky and honoring Christ's birth. Following this tradition, the church began to include a tree for Christmas and by the mid-1600’s it was decorated with apples to symbolize Adam and Eve's expulsion from Eden.

About this time German Christians began bringing trees into their homes and soon they began to decorate them. Their tradition arrived with Hessian immigrants to the colonies and overcame the austere (and unpopular) Puritan belief that ‘all work and no play’ included banning Christmas celebrations.

In 1832 Charles Follen, a German immigrant and professor at Harvard, decorated the first American Christmas tree to share with his family and friends. And in 1846, a young German Prince Albert presented his new bride Victoria with her first tree and thus the English Victorian Christmas was born. Word of decorated Christmas trees spread rapidly and was embraced by almost all Christian cultures; it remains today a universal symbol of the holiday season.

Amaryllis

The first of December officially begins the Holiday season and the Queen of all bulbs, the exquisite Amaryllis, is traditionally a guest at many celebrations. A very easy bulb to ‘force’, plan to include at least one this year.

History
As serious exploration began in the 16th and 17th centuries, botanical specimens were among the most coveted acquisitions brought home. Consequently even today there remains controversy over exactly who discovered the Amaryllis and from which continent it originated. Some say it was Africa while others claim it is from South America. Regardless of origin, this exquisite flower had an immediate cult following and the legend which explained her deep scarlet color became widely circulated.

As with so many of our flowers, Amaryllis has both Greek and Roman lore attached to her and the poets Theocritus (3rd century BC) and Virgil (70 BC) both wrote she was a shy nymph of great resolve. Amaryllis fell in love with a popular shepherd reputed to be as handsome as Apollo and as strong as Hercules; he was a rock star of the day and unimpressed by her attentions. Hoping to quell her embarrassing adoration, he gave her the impossible task of finding him a flower that never before existed. Amaryllis consulted the Oracle at Delphi and was instructed to walk to his home and pierce her heart with a golden arrow, allowing her blood to flow. For thirty nights she did so and from her blood sprang the flower with crimson petals.

Napoleon’s Josephine commissioned a painting of an Amaryllis, English Poet Laureate Lord Alfred Tennyson included her in a poem, and Thomas Jefferson mentioned one in his diary in 1811... quite illustrious mention for a flower!

Plan on Forcing One
These precious bulbs, once available to only the wealthy elite, are now easily affordable and readily available at every nursery. Colors include the traditional red, white, deep pink, orange, and shades of salmon, pink, and rose.

Choose a deep, snug container to support the foliage and hug your bulb. Allow for three inches below the bulb for the roots and fill it half way with potting medium. Gently press the bulb into it leaving the neck exposed. Water the bulb lightly and give it a shot of gin to prevent foliage wilt. Keep the medium moist but not soaked and expect your bulb to begin flowering within three weeks. Happy Holidays!

December 17, 2011... Mine flowered!

I accidentally planted different bulbs in the same wooden bowl... apparently the lovely white grows with a much longer stem.

*While at Lowe’s over the weekend, I could not resist releasing the poor Amaryllis who had sprouted and whose foliage was crumpled within the box... as I opened their boxes I could sense a collective sigh of relief as they looked beyond their cardboard confines.

Forcing Bulbs for the Holidays

Ready to bloom!

The days seem to be passing rather quickly and with the arrival of Thanksgiving, the winter festivities have begun so now is the time to ‘force’ some bulbs for Christmas. For those unfamiliar with the process, ‘forcing’ is the method by which a bulb is planted and compelled to grow and bloom out of season by exposure to the warm temperature indoors. This process brings the bulbs into bloom long before they would bloom outdoors thus allowing us the pleasure of their company during the winter months.

Since their ancestors came from warm areas of the Mediterranean the darling Paperwhite Narcissus requires no cold to bloom and may easily forced. Taking only three to four weeks to flower, they will bloom faithfully providing both fragrance and cheer for the holidays. So easy is the growth of these bulbs that anchoring material may include gravel, pebbles, colored glass stones, or moss as acceptable mediums. Any sort of shallow growth container whether pottery, glass, or clay will work as well.

First select large, top-grade, flawless bulbs which are free of sooty mold then choose a favorite container that will be lovely as a centerpiece or focal point. Perhaps select a glass bowl for the added pleasure of watching the roots as they begin to grow and slowly twine about the stones. Grandmother’s shallow crystal bowl filled with red, white, and green glass stones is lovely at Christmas but more a more rustic selection might include a pottery bowl with polished rocks or pea gravel. If a large container is chosen, more bulbs will be needed and the display will entirely riotous… often more is better!

In Grandmother's cut glass bowl~

Fill the bottom of the container with whatever you have chosen to anchor your bulbs making a bed about two to three inches deep. Gently press the bulbs halfway down the bulb mass, wriggling and carefully nestling them until they stand firmly on their own. Try to space the bulbs about two inches apart, remembering to place several in the center as well. After arranging your bulbs, fill the container with enough water to cover your anchoring material, moistening the bulbs approximately half way up. Keep this water level, adding a little each day if necessary and your bulbs will begin to flower in three to four weeks. Remember to give the bowl a shot of gin as the first flower buds appear. The gin will slightly stunt the foliage and force it to stand ‘at attention’ thus preventing the wilt so prevalent with forced Narcissus. (My friend Linda Vater, who presents a gardening segment on Channel 4 Thursday afternoon, uses 1 part Vodka to 7 parts water.)

As the roots grow, the reed-like foliage will first appear and suddenly many tiny blooms arrive, slowly swelling, then opening over the course of several days. The marvelous sweet smelling flowers will last several weeks before it is time to discard them. Sadly, the temperature-trickery used to force early bloom has confused and destroyed the bulb’s internal clock... they have given their ’all’ this season. After the display is over leave them in a cool place and plant them outside in the early spring. Often they will recover and bloom on schedule in a year or so.

Last years bulbs will bloom again~

Thanksgiving... a Pictorial

Why Foliage Turns in Autumn

With the overnight freeze several weeks ago it seemed destiny had planned to deny us the annual foliage show this year. After the horrid summer, we truly needed something that returns each year without fail and as though through a collective wish our native trees began their color change. As the clocks were turned back suddenly shades of gold were seen shimmering in the breezes... the native hardwoods, who are naturalized and hardy, have not disappointed us. Trees lose their leaves to give additional sunlight for warmth during the cold winter months and Nature has provided us with a stunning visual as a parting gift.



Although the following explanation will be a vast over simplification, it may provide insight into the foliage change. During the spring and summer the trees use their leaves to collect air and water utilizing a process called photosynthesis to turn it into food. Photosynthesis means ‘putting together with light’ so as the days shorten and daylight diminishes, the gathering process ends. The leaf is no longer necessary to the tree and begins its fall transformation. Suddenly the hillsides become a dramatic autumn palette that provides breathtaking color for a brief moment in time.



The chemicals chlorophyll and carotenoids are present in the leaf cells throughout the growing season with chlorophyll making leaves the bright green color associated with the photosynthesis process. As darkness increases in the autumn, chlorophyll production eventually stops and inevitably all the chlorophyll disappears. With the loss of chlorophyll, the carotids become visible and provide the leaves with lovely yellow colors. Lastly the anthocyanins may arrive and take center stage, ushering in the vibrant reds we associate with Autumn.



Because carotenoids are always present in leaves the amber, yellow and gold colors remain fairly constant from year to year, even during drought. However conditions must be ideal for the fickle anthocyanins who are glucose (sugar) and singularly responsible for the brilliant hues of purple, crimson, and scarlet. To be spectacular the tree requires warm sunny days and cool crisp evenings to slow the closing of the leaf veins and trap an excess of sugar produced at this time. Due to our erratic weather of late, the reds this year will probably be lackluster at best.



However the shade and foliage show are not all the leaves have to offer… their parting gift is perhaps the most important. The leaves drift from the trees and collect below to continue their work by slowly decomposing. Over time they add nutrients to create a dark rich soil which nourishes fledgling saplings as they grow to become forest giants like their parents. It is indeed a miraculous cycle of life!

Gophers and Moles

Although this subject has been broached before, it bears repeating about now. Almost overnight it seems the semi-dormant gophers and moles have become incredibly active. Since they are a problem of fairly vast proportion to the gardener, a brief description of their physical appearance and habits might be helpful. They are rodents and require strong measures to eliminate and exterminate them.

Gophers live in long, complex tunnels below the ground. They dig with their powerful front feet and their sharp teeth. Their bodies are well suited to their lifestyle below ground as they have poor eyesight and move slowly. Most of their lives are spent digging and patrolling their tunnels to protect their territory from other gophers. Their tails are hairless and tactile; it is an organ of touch which can “feel” as the gopher backs up in his hole. Their food choices include the gardener’s favorites…vegetables, buds, grass, nuts, roots and bulbs. They can totally decimate a lovely garden in very few days. In fact once I watched as a stalk of Asparagus was slowly pulled below, one jerk at a time until it disappeared. A gopher’s home is recognized by the large mound of earth above it. It is said their nest is usually about a foot below ground and lined with leaves, although digging like a mad woman has never revealed anything of the like.

The mole is a fast, tireless digger whose body is shaped for burrowing. With its narrow pointed nose, its wedge shaped head, and its large forelegs, it is a virtual digging machine. The forepaws, especially designed to scoop the earth, are hinged sideways on the mole’s body and equipped with large broad nails to act as a shovel. They are almost blind and although they have no external ears, their hearing is excellent. Their diet consists mainly of insects and worms, rather than plants, and their tunnels are dug so their food falls into them and are easily collected by the foraging marauder. If one sees a new tunnel being dug, it is possible to ‘catch’ it with the door open and flood it with a hose. The almost-drowned, gasping mole will emerge where it may be smashed with a shovel, thus eliminating one. However, like mice… there is never just one.

This is a 2007 picture... Michael has been at this awhile, with little success


*An odd bit of history is that that moleskin was once quite popular for coats, gloves and hats. It is warm, soft, thick and lightweight; gray fur was preferred, but brown and black were also used. In my opinion collecting enough for a coat would be a mammoth chore.

Now with an understanding of the habits of the two, methods for extermination must be examined. For the gardener, dropping bits of poison into gopher mounds is ineffective as it seems to be the equivalent of giving them a vitamin tonic. And the old wives tale about dropping Juicy Fruit gum into a mound and it will destroy the digestive system is totally false. The “bomb” one may obtain from Tractor Supply to drop into holes (in spite of being extremely fun to use) is ineffective as well. Flooding gopher mounds with a hose makes an unsightly mess and often the water will completely destroy a flower bed by imploding the underground burrows leaving deep crevices in its wake. Trapping is time consuming and a full time job that never seems to work. Waiting for the emerging gopher with a gun in hand is ultimately a waste of time for it seems they ‘sense’ danger and never appear.

The easiest and most efficient way to eliminate these pests is to purchase a marvelous invention which attaches to the exhaust pipe of your car and then to a simple garden hose. When the engine is running you can fill the burrows, tunnels, or holes with highly toxic, extremely fatal carbon monoxide exhaust. Available at Ace and True Value Hardware stores for only $16.95, it works! This handy device is guaranteed to provide hours of Fall fun for any gardener!!

The Houdon... find of a lifetime

September 21, 2008

As most of you know I am an avid yard/garage sale person. It is the quest, the deal, the ‘rush’ from getting something that is amazing and a total surprise. The jackpot has always eluded us… until yesterday.

We got started late and didn't really think there was anything we wanted or needed but compulsive people do things by rote so off we went at a little past ten. Besides the nonstop parade of pink plastic baby toys and clothing that should have been sent to the trash bin, there was depressingly little at the first eight sales we attended. Then as we rounded a corner, we spotted a nice home with a well-dressed elderly lady conducting a sale. She was downsizing she explained and getting rid of everything she no longer needed. Michael had made a bee line for something I couldn't see that was tucked behind a chair.

He asked, "Would you take less for your statue".
"No", she replied, "I really don't care if I sell her or not. I've always been so fond of her. I got her about 50 years ago... in an antique shop in New York City. I like her so much and I wouldn't sell her if she was not too large for our new home. I think she is worth $50.00".
"Okay, he said, "I'll take her and I promise to give her a good home".

I noted his hand was shaking as he opened his billfold and when I glanced at the statue I almost dropped my teeth... she was gorgeous! He picked her up like she was a child and almost ran to the car, as if the lady would change her mind. He looked at me and mouthed, "Come on, come on“, gesturing frantically.
*It should be noted that I had asked the garage sale gods to send us something fantastic just before we rounded the corner and I thank them from the bottom of my heart!

Michael has always had a thing for statues; as a young boy of about 8 he stole a bust of Shakespeare, several large Angels and St. Michael creating a sort of shrine to them in the woods. He had used his little red wagon to haul them. When someone found the grotto, there were questions about the theft, but no one discovered who had taken them and they were simply returned to the library and churches where they resided. So you see for Michael to have 'found' the statue was thrilling... it was a once in a lifetime gift to himself.

I turned from the front seat to inspect her and noted she was signed and numbered... a good sign. I further noted the lovely detail and her face was exquisite. I called my friend Maria who is a conservator in Dallas, and she was speechless... 'A Houdon, you got a Houdon for $50! Unbelievable!' 

Background: Houdon (1741-1838) A French neoclassical sculptor who was very popular during his lifetime doing busts of George Washington, Thomas Jefferson and other important dignitaries of the day. However I do not think our Houdon is from this time frame... the Louvre commissioned 500 statues in about 1850 and I think she is one of those. Her number is 406.

Her official title is 'Chilly Lady' however after looking at her lovely face, I do not feel she is a 'lady', but rather a young girl of about twelve to fourteen years old. And if you are 'chilly', you cover your body, not your face. Therefore, I have concluded she was snatched into some gilded coach, stripped, used, and tossed aside where she covered her head in shame, hoping not to be recognized. In busy Paris of the 1780's this was possibly a not an unusual sight, however something about this young girl moved Houdon enough to immortalize her... 

Insta Freeze and Other Odd Occurrences

*Along with another earthquake on Monday evening, we had numerous tornadoes and seven inches of rain... just waiting for the hoards of Locusts!

It has been quite a year with weather taking center stage by breaking all records. We have had the coldest winter, the most snowfall, the largest hail, the highest wind speed, an F5 tornado, the hottest summer and the strongest quake!

The last winter surprised everyone with its duration and chilling velocity. Only twice in state history had temperatures dipped so low for so long. The ensuing snowfall broke state records and was followed by the baseball-sized spring hail. The May 5th tornado was immediately followed by the worst drought in history, with high summer-like temperatures that have prevailed until last week. Oklahoma and Texas have gained the dubious honor of experiencing the worst drought in American history.

Julia among the leaves!

Last Thursday in the wee hours of the morning, the first deep freeze pattered in marking the end to the growing season. It was remarkable because of the overnight devastation, which sunrise showcased in a most unusual manner. As the sunshine reached the still-green foliage of the soft wood trees, it instantly began to wilt, appearing a deep transparent green before beginning to fall in tandem. This year we were denied the seasonal leaf-change of many trees; the high temperatures kept the leaves green and failed to send the internal signal for change. Then sudden freeze hastened the process of leaf discard overnight.

Vast numbers of Black Walnuts... more than ever before.

The Black Walnuts and Acorns could be heard plopping to the ground in alarming numbers, which made a walk the equivalent of an obstacle course as they zinged to the earth. (The tale of Chicken Little came to mind… ‘The sky is falling, the sky is falling.’) By Friday, it was over and the garden and forest floor were littered with an alarming number of nuts. Folklore states that nuts in abundance are a sign of a bad winter… and then we had the quakes. The first quake stopped the Grandfather clock at 2:16 and the following day, the 5.7 rattled the dishes and could be felt in adjacent states.

For the gardener, the extreme cold did substantial damage to the insect populations and many bugs simply did not make an appearance this year. Then the heat made a mark on the tent worm population and seems to have halted their march. I noted they do not survive in temperatures over ninety five degrees and if their tent is tossed to the ground they thrash about in agony for a few seconds before expiring. The blister bugs never arrived in large numbers and even the grasshopper populations were down a bit. Unfortunately, the frogs also had a bad time… Mr. Phineas Frog, who has lived under the back porch since he was a youngster, had not been out to play much until the rain last week.

*Congratulations to all of us who have so far survived 2011... we managed a marvelous feat indeed!

Autumn... At Last!

Grandpa's Lake~

This year promises the most lovely Autumn in ages. The crisp mornings are delightful... perfect for outdoor coffee and a leisurely walk in the garden. The sunny days are a comfortable temperature and are calm and relaxing. With the rains and divine temperatures of late, gardeners all over Oklahoma have developed a sort of collective amnesia about last season‘s ‘difficulties‘; they are happily donning sweaters and getting outside again. We survived the Summer that broke all records!

As one tidies up the confusion of late garden overgrowth, the bones of the garden are once again visible. One may also see the tiny tips of the early spring bulbs emerging, sweetly reminding one that the garden is perpetual and ever-evolving.

The leaves have begun to change into their autumn finery. Their annual show, which is always breathtaking, has begun. As the foliage change evolves, each day provides a new wonder to behold as the play of light and shadows shimmers on colorful dancing leaves. When they complete their color change, they begin to fall, delicately swirling to the ground in crisp drifting patterns. Finally as they accumulate in colorful heaps, they are a joy to walk through…crackling and swishing with the sudden snap of the occasional acorn hidden beneath them. For an outdoor walk, this season has no match.

For the energetic gardener, the precious pansies are arriving in the nurseries and it is a wonderful time to plant them. Originally a common viola growing in fields and hedgerows in England they were cultivated by William Richardson, gardener to Lady Mary Elizabeth Bennett I the early 1800’s. Despite his efforts, their first noted appearance was on the estate of James, Lord Gambier. His gardener, William Thompson, began to cross various viola species with a viola tricolor in an effort to achieve a round flower of overlapping petals. In the late 1830s he found by chance a flower that no longer had narrow nectar guides of dark color on the petals but a broad dark blotch instead; from this pansy came the future ‘flowers with a face’. Released to the public in 1839 with the name "Medora," this pansy and its progeny, including "Victoria", rapidly became popular with gardeners and breeders throughout Europe.

Pansies Peeking Through Leaves

If planted now, they will survive nicely over the winter and will have a head start in the Spring. Such a cheerful, adorable little flower is always a welcome guest at the garden party and the color options are positively stunning. Their little faces are delightfully amusing!

Pansies Have Precious "Faces"

Halloween

Photo Credit: Watson Brown of Adelphia Plantation
See his photos at: http://www.flickr.com/photos/edgecombeplanter/

Sunday was the epitome of Autumn perfection. Basking in the glow of windless warm sunshine, enjoying the exquisite feel of the day, it is understandable why Fall is a favorite season for many... cherished all the more for its fleeting passage.

At this time it is interesting to review the origins of one of our most treasured and anticipated holidays… Halloween. As with most of our holidays, its origins are deeply rooted within the pagan beliefs of our ancestors, with their celebrations altered to adapt to Christian faith. The Celtics, a once powerful people of central and northern Europe, gathered for their New Years celebrations at end of harvest and their beliefs are included in Halloween as we know it. The celebration of their New Year, called Samhain (Irish-Gaelic for 'the Summer's end’) took place on October 31st, which is coincidentally our Halloween.

It was believed border between the worlds of the living and the dead is thinnest on this night, allowing the souls of the deceased to enter the land of the living. So for this one night hearth fires were extinguished so their light could not be seen to either guide or frighten the returning souls. Gathered in celebratory groups, these tribal people lit huge bonfires of sacred oak branches to drive away evil spirits and warm the living. Costumes were worn so the Lord of Death could not recognize and then come claim one in the coming year. Often animals were sacrificed, fortunes were told, and at the end of the night with the safety of dawn, hearth fires were relit from the bonfire to ensure happiness and prosperity as the New Year began.

The Roman Church decided to make All Saint’s Day on November 1st to coincide with the Celtic festival. All Saints' Day was instituted as a holiday in the year 609 and it was moved from May to November in 834 after the Church discovered the importance of the Celtic rituals. On All Souls Day poor people went ‘a-souling’ (or begging) for ‘soulcakes’ in exchange for the promise they pray for the dead in purgatory and from this came our custom of ‘trick or treating’.

These beliefs arrived in Mexico directly from the Roman Church and are still celebrated with ‘The Day of the Dead’ as family members welcome deceased relatives home for the night. Their grave is surrounded by welcoming candles and a place at the table is set for them as their favorite foods are prepared. Generations gather and complimentary stories about the deceased are told as they are welcomed home for an evening with loved ones.

Any way it is viewed historically, the customs surrounding the death of summer also honor the dead, complete with the belief that mortal souls return to wander the earth. Autumn leaves, Jack-o-lanterns, bobbing for apples, costumes, black cats, and fortune-telling all evolved from these pagan customs. It is amazing that these ancient Celtic rituals, which have become our Halloween, continue to be embraced and still flourish today.

Common Cockscomb

Now is the time when the fantastic Cockscomb appears as the rock star of the garden, taking center stage from now until frost. Of the Celosia family, it is universally grown and adored for its many attributes, not the least of which are the amazing clusters of tiny velvety flowers. The quite unusual flower heads are in swirling waves and twisted rows which resemble a roosters comb; they are the reason for the common name of the plant. The flowers come in shades of deep burgundy and red, orange or yellow and have been a garden staple for hundreds of years. Besides lasting well a cut flower, the heads dry well, and are often used in winter arrangements.

Cockscomb was introduced from Asia to Europe in the 16th century where it was highly cultivated and has since traveled globally. It was grown in our own Thomas Jefferson’s childhood garden at Shadwell and was mentioned in his writings from 1767. Peter Henderson, famed horticulturist, reported in 1890 that Cockscombs were "almost universally grown."

Another miraculous attribute of Cockscomb is the fact that every part of this plant has something to offer mankind. In East Africa, where parasites are widespread, it is medicinally used as a treatment for intestinal worms. It is utilized as a cure for mouth sores, blood diseases, with the seeds used for chest complaints and the flowers to treat dysentery. The leaves are boiled and used as dressings for wounds and sores. Even today it is frequently used as treatment for osteoarthritis of the knee in the United States.

Every part of this magnificent plant is utilized as a dietary staple worldwide. Cockscomb has been a dietary staple in Asia for as long as memory can recall and it is prevalent in South America, tropical Africa, the West Indies, Central and West Africa, and most of South America where it grows wild and is collected as a leafy green vegetable. The leaves, which resemble spinach, are eaten either boiled or fresh and are highly nutritious. Leaves are used are for stew and are also coupled with hot peppers, garlic, lime, and red palm and eaten as a side dish in Mexico.

This popular favorite is perhaps the most unsung hero of the garden for the plethora of gifts it offers. According to the World Health Organization, Cockscomb is among the plants included in their plan to prevent widespread starvation in third world nations. Since it likes it hot and dry and self-seeds easily, it is hoped it will widely expand in drought stricken nations and thus provide a valuable food source for people who have very few nutritious options in their diet. Cockscomb may save millions of lives!

*The infinite wisdom if the divine plan is often astounding… health is just outside the back door!

Millipedes on the Move~

A millipede in protective mode~

Over the weekend we were blessed with the most perfect rain… exactly the kind we have so desperately needed. It was gentle and lovely, quiet and welcomed with that unmistakable smell of fresh dampness. The garden has been patiently waiting since last October for this soothing rain; it has been a year since we experienced such a godsend.

This time of year the marvelous magical millipedes appear everywhere. Slow and steady, with their many legs moving in a tandem of perfect synchronization, they are truly an unsung hero of the garden. Their job is to take damp decaying leaves and mulch them into tiny pieces, making their work an ecological boon for the garden.

And they have been mulching away since prehistoric times. Mr. Mike Newman, a bus driver and amateur paleontologist from Aberdeen, Scotland found a fossil of a small millipede in a piece of sandstone. He said, “I had found millipedes there before, but this one had evidence of the holes that showed it actually breathed“. Experts from the National Museum of Scotland and Yale University studied it for months and concluded it lived 428 million years ago, making it the oldest land creature in existence. The millipede was the first to crawl from the sea and breathe air!

The millipede is a member of the arthropod family which account for over eighty percent of all known living species. A nasty cousin of the millipede is the centipede and the roly-poly is also related. The name ‘millipede’ comes from the Latin mille (thousand) and pes (foot) however no species has 1,000 feet; common species can have up to 400 with each segment bearing two pairs of legs.

Besides having wonderful translucent legs, millipedes possess the ability to curl in a fascinating cylindrical circle if disturbed. This habit developed possibly because they do not possess an ability to bite or sting so they are using their hard outer shell to protect their feet! I cannot resist gently poking one and watching it instantly coil and children are always amazed by the trick!

That this little species still exists in the garden today, looking exactly like the ancient fossil, is indeed a phenomenon. If you find one inside, please carry it outside to a damp leafy spot and release it... its ancestors are very important after all.

Gardeners Will Garden

Jefferson's Gardens

The urge to dig in the soil and plant a seed is as old as civilized mankind for the thrill of watching a seedling emerge and reach fruition is unsurpassed. Every nation has appropriated sites for carefully tended public grounds, and their continued popularity is a testament to our love affair with gardens. According to space and circumstance gardens may be found on grand estates, in tiny cottage plots, or even in cheerful window boxes spilling with blooms. Each provide a living testament to our desire to nurture and surround ourselves with natural beauty.

The Hanging Gardens of Babylon built by King Nebuchadnezzar II around 600 BC were considered one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World… quite an honor for a garden! Many royal gardens in Europe have been cherished for generations and Prince Charles of Britain has restored many while pressing a national gardening agenda. Our own Thomas Jefferson was more pleased with his gardening innovations at Monticello than all of his diplomatic successes and even his Presidency. He avidly collected seeds, cuttings, and plants from his travels, bringing them home and carefully documenting their progress and success or failure. We have him to thank for introducing many of the species we now consider standard.

In the 18th and 19th centuries, the cramped and simple gardens belonging to poor laborers and factory workers in Europe were the birthplace of florist’s flowers as we now know them. A lovely example is the magnificent Carnation, once a quarter sized Dianthus, who grew to the proportions we now recognize as standard. Petals were doubled and redoubled as enthusiastic breeders toiled in their tiny spaces after working long hours at grueling jobs. Their joy is apparent in the creations they have bequeathed us and we are grateful for their efforts.

The Berlin Wall fell in 1990 and former Communist countries were opened to the West for the first time in decades. The horticultural community was stunned at the advanced plant breeding that had occurred in impossible and suppressed conditions behind the Iron Curtain. With no laboratories, no conservatories, and little money, gardeners had persevered in their efforts to advance and improve many species and were honored by a grateful horticultural community.

Much of the hybridization we enjoy today occurred in the back yard Victory Gardens of WWII. At President Roosevelt’s request, everyone in the nation was asked to plant a garden to allow our surplus food to be sent to overseas to our troops. This program was enthusiastically adopted and petunias and marigolds were replaced by vegetables in an astonishing national effort. Most of the fresh produce consumed by the nation was grown in small garden plots and the success of this program remains unsurpassed today.

The realization that gardeners will garden regardless of hardship or circumstance is comforting. We are called to the soil for there is perpetual harmony in gardening and it knows no boundaries.

Jealousy... a damaging emotion~

The Medicine Man of the Acoma tribe warns his charges to be on guard for the emotion of jealousy… considered to be the most dangerous and damaging of the negative emotions. Jealousy does not begin as such, but is rather the result of positive emotions becoming twisted over time.

A person is attracted to an individual for the traits they possess and often there is admiration for these traits. Perhaps the traits could be wisdom, kindness, talent, intellect, compassion, a sense of humor and so forth. In a normal progression, the admiration grows and turns into love and respect for the person; a friendship ensues.

Some weak minded persons allow the progression of friendship to fall into a dark and negative pattern. The very reasons they were initially drawn to the person become the cause of resentment. This resentment is the path to jealousy and hatred. The twisted individual will begin to believe 'gifts' were denied to them and freely given to the other. This sense of denial evolves and morphs into a desire to hurt or destroy the one they once admired. Their emotion has become jealousy, which lives hand in hand with hatred. All logical reason has been lost and the negativity will consume the person.

The Medicine Man cautions to be aware of this and learn the signs of jealousy. Often the victim does not imagine such hostility can come from one he trusted. He says to guard against allowing these negative emotions into your life… they have strong power and will consume all that is good around you.

Cannonball Zeke... the Cat

Cats and gardens go hand in hand, for besides being loyal companions, they are valued for catching and dispatching mice, gophers, and moles. However an interesting bit of true trivia concerns cats and how they helped win the Revolutionary War and American freedom.

Several cats distinguished themselves during the Revolutionary War and in the subsequent War of 1812. One of the best known was ‘Cannonball Zeke’, whose real name was Ezekiel. CZ was a large Maine Coon cat that was brought along as a mascot for one of the Maine Militia units. Apparently enjoying the smell of gunpowder and the roar of battle for some odd reason, Zeke was often seen near the front lines. After one close battle it was noticed that Zeke had found refuge in the bore of an old worn out Coehorn Mortar.

The out-gunned, out-manned colonists had long desired a ‘secret weapon’ that could be used to strike fear into the hearts of the ferocious Hessian troops they faced but had found nothing. One inventive old Yankee, noticing Zeke slumbering, hatched an ingenious plan. The mortar had been deemed useless since the worn bore would no longer give accurate fire, plus the casting of an oversized mold would require use of more already precious lead. It was reasoned that Zeke, being a rather overstuffed Maine Coon cat, fit the bore perfectly. Late that afternoon in a fit of desperation, running short of powder and shot, the thin line of farmers stood at a crossroads... use their remaining ammunition until it ran out and they were slaughtered by the fierce Hessians, or take a chance on old Zeke.

The vote was quick; the remaining powder loaded in the old mortar, and Zeke coaxed into the bore. At the moment of desperation during a massive charge by the Hessians, one of the farmers lit the fuse. The rest, as they say, was history. A completely startled Zeke hurtled out of the bore of the mortar and soared screaming through the air over the heads of the startled troops. In a related occupational hazard, Zeke's tail had caught fire from the fuse and glowed brightly in the evening sky. Attempting to dodge all the bayonets below him, Zeke twisted and turned, landing squarely atop a group of British Officers who were directing the attack. The ensuing panic caused pandemonium amongst the troops on the field. Zeke was clawing and shredding everything in sight in his attempt to get away and the officers were flailing and screaming. The frightened troops interpreted the arm waving as a call to retreat and began to scramble toward their rear lines in mass numbers.

Zeke, taking advantage of the confusion, slipped back behind the American lines undetected, and took up his position in the now warm bore of the old mortar. Time and again, when the chips were down, Zeke was called upon to serve once more. His frazzled tail was a common sight at Washington's camp table, where he dined on trout donated to him by grateful soldiers. While affectionately nicknamed "Cannonball Zeke" by the Americans, Ezekiel was termed the ‘Flaming Furball From Hell’ by the British.

Enterprising American Ranger troops, trained to use stealth to sneak close to the enemy encampments, learned to imitate Zeke's high-pitched scream and would take turns sounding off in different directions while surrounding an enemy encampment, throwing the sleeping troops into wild disarray.

So the next time you notice cats pitty-patting around town or sleeping in the garden, remember their importance in winning our freedom.

The Natural Person: A Repost

After years of rushing about, I finally have some time to reflect and I have some odd realizations. As a young woman, I felt a strong urge to see what would happen if one placed children in a natural setting and allowed them to evolve on their own terms. I had seven in a row, and the results were astounding.

I took everyone out of school when the oldest were in fourth grade. The system was far too stifling for active minds and I felt they needed room to expand. This singular act changed the course of their lives in a most unconventional way. They were insulated from the negative impact of peer groups, organized religion, and society in general. From this isolation they formed a close bond with each other and nature; they became connected in a natural way and had no need to unlearn the lessons which bind and impact formation of a positive person.

When they were children, each time we welcomed a new arrival I told them I was having a baby for them...so they would have friends that loved them their whole lives. Each addition was welcomed and the current baby and other little children were drug around by older siblings with ultimate patience. Every day was met with unbridled enthusiasm because there was little structure and few demands; our creek and forest were their playground. We gathered for our meals, which were taken together three times a day; we took our time and caught up with daily events while exchanging ideas or discussing world events.

Reading was encouraged and they spent many hours pouring over the contents of our library; we have 5,000 books on any subject you would wish to study. We studied ecology by checking the creek for healthy plants and crawdads. We learned fractions by cooking, geometry by playing pool. We studied medieval history and made a walnut catapult, entirely pegged and workable. Swords were hammered, cloaks created, and horses were ridden bareback at break neck speeds while playing Three Musketeers or Robin Hood, or tag.

We sat in the topmost field and 'centered ourselves' to see if we could send the imaginary silver cord from the base of our spine to the center of the earth to bring the light of healing energy upward… and Andrew, at only five, could. We learned charity by taking baskets of food we had grown to those who were hungry, we hung prayer ribbons from the trees, raised abandoned baby animals and released them. We opened our door to starving artists, traveling minstrels, occasionally to down-and-out cowboys and Indians. We attended Native American Pow-Wows and we were invited guests at the sacred Sun Dance.

Shadow-Spawn sunning on Patrick's shoulder.

Once, as an experiment, we decided to see how everyone would survive if something drastic happened and there was no shelter or electricity available. They created livable sod houses and built a dam on the creek.

They believed that painting the window sills anti-voodoo blue would keep ill will away and that Nordic symbols on the gate will not allow evil to enter.

They could see spirits and thought that everyone could. They believed the elements are alive, and that every living thing has a soul. They pray to the angels for protection and instinctively placed food in the grave of the deceased so they may ‘eat on the other side‘.

These beliefs are ingrained in them by choice, not indoctrination, so I think they are fairly pure. Point being, when you allow the person to evolve naturally, they will find the ancient ways all by themselves, without coaching. The past holds the future and if left unimpeded, the natural person will emerge in surprising ways.

 

 

 

 

 

*With leaving home and the discovery of various peer pressures, they lost their way for a bit. Happily, they have found it again.... it wasn't lost at all~