Garden Bouquets to Make the House Smell Like Spring!

Tulips are in bloom too!

The Lilacs smell wonderful!

Do you like the little man spitting up the seed beads? (bottom right)

The Tragic Disappearance of the Dung Beetle… May he RIP

What a talent!

Anyone who is observant in the garden has met the darling dung beetle. He’s the fascinating little dark gray guy who plays in a mound of dung… any sort will do. He works it as though it is an important assigment pushing this way and that. And when he has it ‘just so’ in a small ball, he stands on his head and begins to roll his creation using his hind legs to balance the whole thing as it rolls. Sometimes they work as a crew, with many little beetles hard at work.

Unfortunately, this incredibly useful little beetle has met his demise through the use of Ivomec, a highly successful internal and external parasite control for cattle. “Discovered and developed by scientists from Merck Research Laboratories, IVOMEC Pour-On contains ivermectin, a unique chemical entity“ (Their qoute) Yes indeed… and the poisoned parasites are excreted and the poor dung beetle, just doing his job, is poisoned as well.

As we say farewell to yet another important life form living on our Planet, the dung beetle needs the recognition he deserves so perhaps reviewing his job is in order. These little beetles reside in pastures and clean the waste droppings by rolling them and burying them in tunnels six inches deep. The tunnels create greater water retention in the fields and improve root and soil aeration. Besides being fertilized, the pasture is clean which reduces the gastrointestinal parasite larvae which may be ingested by the cattle, excreted by the cattle then ingested again in an ongoing life cycle. By rapidly cleaning the pasture, dung beetles reduce the numbers of flies, whom we all know adore manure as a nesting site for their nasty youngsters, the maggots.

I had noted the past few years, the pastures had begun look like cattle ghettos… as though the sanitation crews had abandoned them. Unfortunately the sanitation crews have been killed.

The dung beetle is a true loss… to a degree of which only time can tell. I was very fond of them and spent a good part of my childhood and adulthood stopping to watch them work, enamored and fascinated by their duty and obligation. May our little beetles RIP… and may Merck be ashamed of themselves for not doing their homework!

Please do not use this product in any form!

Plant a Riot of Annuals~

Electric Blue Salvia


Good Friday felt more like full blown summer than spring, and the parched countryside seemed depressingly stressed without rain. It had begun to feel like the savannas of Africa and last week the wheat began turning yellow at the ground while the shafts dipped their heads in mourning. And so the sound of distant thunder in the wee hours of Easter morning seemed truly an unexpected blessing ordained by God. Thankfully this year Easter was a complete wash-out and the misty rain which finally made a gentle entrance was appreciated by everyone… except small children who missed the egg hunts. We may also be thankful that our communities missed the storms with tornados and baseball-sized hail that devastated many of our neighboring states to the north and east.

For those new to gardening, there is nothing better than planning a flower garden of annuals which will provide riotous color all summer. And for visual interest it is important to remember to layer by height from the front to the back of the bed. Plan for low growing flowers to be at the front and gradually increase the height to give the visual feel of ‘movement‘. In an area which receives full sun, tiny low growing Rose Moss or Portulaca are both perfect in front, love it hot, require little care and will provide an ever-blooming cheerful spot of color all season. Behind them, perhaps plant the short variety of Marigolds; they do well in the heat and will also help with insect control as they are a natural pesticide. Next could come some intermediate Zinnias, and the new varieties have an amazing spectrum of colors. Medium height Cannas could provide a perfect backdrop and even though they bloom later in the season, in many varieties, the foliage is an interesting combination of greens and yellows which surpasses the flowers in interest and beauty.

Or perhaps plan a ‘theme garden’ this year using annuals. One year on a whim, we had a South American themed garden and filled the kidney shaped bed on the upper level solely with flowers that had a Mexican flair and would attract butterflies. It seems flowers originating in South America have the brightest and deepest colors, the easy habit of drought survival and they all seem to shout Fiesta! We planted Mexican heather, red and yellow Nastursums, deep purple Petunias, scarlet red Chile Pepper Scabiosa, electric blue Salvia, scarlet and deep yellow swirl Zinnias, and anything else we could find that seemed fun. Everything was planted too closely and all with contrasting colors adjacent to each other. The result was intermingling of colors spilling out and over the bed in a riot of color by mid summer. Everyone who saw it had a giggle… it was so over the top. Since annuals are not true garden guests, merely tourists passing through who last but one season, there are few rules in planting them. Allow the imagination to run rampant!

*Since we finally had a rain… perhaps the morels have decided to make an appearance!

How to Proceed... Grow A vegetable Garden

Our gardens when the children were growing up...

As the news on the down turn of our economy is reported with increasingly depressing predictions, it would be wise to revisit the past for instructions on how to proceed. With the onset of both World War I and II, the nation was required to tighten their collective belt and a program of rationing was initiated. When my father was stationed at the Pentagon his letters to his parents speak of his offer to send them his coffee and sugar vouchers so shortages were a daily reality.

In 1917 and then again in 1941, the Agriculture Department informed the American public if they wanted fresh fruits and vegetables, they would have to grow their own. With that edict, the concept of the Victory Garden was born and many people who did not know a trowel from a hoe began to garden. To aid in the effort, the War Garden Commission compiled instruction booklets which were distributed by the Department of Agriculture, International Harvester, and Beech-Nut.

From the efforts of individuals America was transformed. Over forty percent of all vegetables consumed nationally were produced from small scale gardens. Back yards, apartment building roof tops, and vacant lots became gardens and individuals felt they were contributing in a patriotic sense. From the World War II data, it was estimated these ‘Sunday farmers’ had created over 20 million victory gardens and added eight to ten million tons of food for consumption here at home.

Oddly since the turn of the century, many large cities have begun to reinstate the premise. In San Francisco the “Victory Garden Project 2008” was created and built on the aforementioned premise with the term ‘victory’ redefined to mean urban sustainability. Growing food at home for health benefits, security, and reduction of the food miles associated with the transport of produce makes logical sense.

With our country at war, rising gas prices, the loss of many retirement funds, and the word ‘recession’ being tossed about, perhaps now is the time for us to remember who we are! Even though we are a rural community and famous for our self sufficiency, many of the younger generation need to be encouraged. By growing food one may save money by not having to buy at inflated prices and be assured of quality. The message that will be sent is that in a time of recession we will find a better use of our time and efforts than shopping! Resourceful hard work and voluntary simplicity are our honored traditions and must not be lost.

Squash, Blue Lake Green Beans... and a wall of Morning Glories

Pink and Red Poppies~

Thank you Jeremy for my Red~

The Story Behind the Gathering... Funny Stuff

Minnie Goodbear... Head Lady Dancer

Introduction: I am a semi-klutz. Michael is always 'repairing' something about my person as we go out in public. Smudged mascara, mustard on my chin, the cowlick in the back of my hair parted. I just never quite get it completely together so it has been his personal mission to make me presentable for the last thirty odd years.

As we entered the camp ground at the Gathering of Nations, I noticed that in addition to the familiar Cheyenne and Arapaho tribal members there were representatives of many Native American tribes I did not know. The regalia is quite different from tribe to tribe so various tribes may be identified by their clothing and bead work, shawls and embroidery, porcupine quills and feathers. The intimidating and traditional Sioux from North Dakota, the Grovan of South Dakota, the Winnipeg from Canada, the austere Pawnee of eastern Oklahoma as well as many other tribes were all gathered there. Since this was not an event for tourists, I was rather intimidated and hoped to blend in as inconspicuously as possible, which is no easy feat since I am so blond. Not particularly dressed for festivities, I moved to a group I knew well and sat down to enjoy the dances. The little girls in their waving shawls imitating butterflies, the men portraying the stampede of the buffalo and the flight of eagle, the women whose feet caressed Mother Earth… all beautiful and exciting.

When it came time for the intermission, I was totally unprepared for my name to be called over the loud speaker requesting for me to come to the front. The grandstand was located at the far most point of the dance grounds and is where the Master of Ceremonies, dignitaries, judges, special elders and chiefs from all the tribes gather to watch and judge the contests. When my name was called, I had to walk the center of an entire length of a football field with 5,000 curious eyes upon me individually! My throat tightened, my knees went weak, my mouth became dry and suddenly I was afraid I would pass out before I reached the front. Walking carefully with each step, head up, wondering if I appeared dignified, wondering if I should smile or look somber, hoping I would not embarrass myself or my friend who was honoring me. Step by step with all eyes on me. For the first time in my life, I was a true minority.

As I had stood to go, I had accidentally stepped on one of my trademark high top Converse shoe strings untying it; unbeknownst to me it was left to dangle and dance with each step I took. With abject horror Michael noticed immediately and watched as the shoe string whipped back and forth, back and forth with each successive step. Later he confessed that he prayed "Please God, don't let her fall, please don't let her fall" as a mantra hundreds of times..one prayer with each of my foot steps.

After what seemed to be a lifetime, I arrived at the grandstand and was greeted by my spiritual sister, Minnie Goodbear, who gave a small speech about me and introduced me to the gathering. Many very important Natives were being honored as well, so I was introduced to each of them. She placed a gorgeous sterling and turquoise necklace around my neck, hugged me, then all the dignitaries shook my hand and welcomed me. When the ceremony was over I was immediately surrounded by people congratulating me and admiring the necklace.

Michael appeared miraculously and calm.. he smiled and nodded to everyone, gently took my arm, pulled me aside and whispered in my ear….. "For the love of God, tie your damn shoe string!"

Grow some herbs this year.

My Apple Mint~

Rosemary, Spearmint and Oregano~


This year consider the legendary uses of herbs and perhaps select a few to include in the scope of your garden. Selection should include herbs for making tea. Tea is second only to water as the most consumed beverage in the world. Herbal teas made from dried fruit, flowers or herbs that have been collected from the garden are lighter and more flavorful than traditional tea.

Legend says the Chinese Emperor Shen Nung was boiling drinking water one day in 2737 B.C. when some leaves from a tea plant fell into the water. The emperor drank the mixture and declared it gave one "vigor of body, contentment of mind, and determination of purpose." In 400 B.C. the Greeks included herbal teas in their regime of wellness. By 50 B.C. the Romans were collecting and cultivating herbs and by 200 A.D., Galen wrote the first classification system that paired common illnesses with their herbal remedy. By 800 Monks had taken over the care of the sick and had herbal gardens at most monasteries. By 1500 herbalists were promoted and supported by Henry VII and the Parliament while apothecaries (drug stores of the time) were accused of giving substandard care. Charles Wesley gave his endorsement in 1700 when he advocated sensible eating, good hygiene and herbal treatments for healthy living.

In 1800 pharmaceuticals become popular and herbal treatments were designated for the poor. However as the side effects of drugs began to be documented, herbal remedies came into favor again. The National Association of Medical Herbalists was formed, and later renamed the National Institute of Medical Herbalists (NIMH.) By 1900 and the first World War pharmaceutical drugs were unavailable so herbal medicines were once again used. After the war pharmaceutical production increased and penicillin was discovered. Herbal practitioners had their rights to dispense their medications taken away and then reinstated. The British Herbal Medicine Association was founded and produced the British Herbal Pharmacopoeia. People began to express the concern over the large number of side effects and environmental impact of the drugs of the 1950s so herbs once again gained importance. Herbs are an outdoor pharmacy provided to us by the Almighty. Simple grow and easy to make, an herbal tea from the garden is a natural health drink.

Spearmint would be a lovely addition to the herb bed. Used in ancient Rome, the ensuing drink made from dried leaves was said the ‘stir up the mind’. Since it is caffeine-free, an afternoon cup could be savored as valuable ‘pick me up’ that has no side effects.

Chamomile is another lovely plant. Originally from the Nile region of Egypt, it was believed to cure almost any ailment. It has remained a favorite as its true properties relieve anxiety and promote calm. It was the tea Mrs. Rabbit made for Peter as she gently tucked him into bed following his harrowing escape from Mr. McGreggor. In these stressful times a sweetly scented evening cup would be a wonderful way to end the day. The list of herbs and their medicinal qualities is endless... and as close as your garden.

Sage

Spring Came~ Take off your shoes!

Earth Day, Arbor Day, and Rachael Carson

“Trees are the earth’s endless effort to speak to the listening heavens.” Rabindranath Tagore

All of us who garden are acutely aware of our environment. As we dig in the soil, we connect with the magical realm of Mother Earth and the results of our work are the rewards bestowed upon us for our efforts. This April, we celebrate monumental efforts made by others to conserve our precious planet. And in light of the horrific catastrophe in Japan, perhaps we should revisit the past to find instructions for the future.

First to be considered is our oldest conservation effort, National Arbor Day, which is celebrated each year on April 22nd, the birthday of its founder Sterling J. Morris. Mr. Morris, the publisher of a Nebraska newspaper, began a campaign to encourage his community in the planting of trees almost 140 years ago. The plains of Nebraska were bare and almost treeless when he began his efforts and by 1885 Arbor Day was declared a state holiday. Since then, due to Mr. Morris and his vision, Arbor Day is embraced by all of the states.

Arbor means tree in Latin. The Arbor Foundation annually gives away thousands of trees to individuals and communities. There is a wonderful pleasure in watching a tiny sprout grow into a young sapling and then continue on until it becomes a magnificent tree. Many Indian tribes planted a tree with the birth of a child and watched as both the tree and child matured. We adopted that custom when our children were little and it is truly wonderful to see the height and breadth of the trees we planted on the first birthdays of our now grown sons and daughter.

Secondly, we have Rachael Carson to thank for her efforts to bring to light the hazards of chemical toxicity. A marine biologist by profession, she noted the unprecedented losses of plant and animal life and her research concluded it was the result of chemical poisonings. Following WWII, America embarked on a path of chemical use that was not only unexplored but tenacious at best. DDT, which killed all insects good or bad, was at first considered a miracle. With it the mosquito became a thing of the past as neighborhoods full of children were regularly fogged. As a child I recall riding my bicycle in and out of the dense fog as the truck slowly rolled by! Finally banned in 1972 and considered one of the most hazardous chemical carcinogens ever created, one wonders what people were thinking. Ms. Carson lived only a few years past publication of her monumental work ‘Silent Spring’ but her legacy of thoughtful research alerted a grateful nation. The title alone was an ominous prediction of a world without the buzzing of bees, the song of birds, the croaking of frogs, the splash of fish.

Photo Credit: Life Magazine

Following in her footsteps was Senator Gaylord Nelson, who first initiated the concept of ‘Earth Day’. By the early 1960’s America’s love affair with chemicals had begun to take a terrible toll. The environmental degradation was becoming astonishingly evident so Senator Nelson first presented his concerns to President Kennedy in 1962. The evidence was conclusive yet the environment would not be on the political agenda for almost a decade. Finally on November 30, 1969, the New York Times ran an article which read “Rising concern about the environmental crisis is sweeping the nation’s campuses with an intensity that is on its way to eclipsing student discontent over the war in Vietnam.”, thus setting the stage for the first official celebration of ‘Earth Day’.

The enormity of this grassroots effort held on April 20, 1970 was the impetus for the creation of the Environmental Protection Agency later that year. The mission of the EPA is to protect human health and the environment. It is expected that Earth Day will be celebrated by over 500 million people in 175 countries. Short of planting a tree this April, we should at least hug one!

Storms and Tornados

Illustration by N C Wyeth

As we continue to experience the drought, the weather last Friday forecast that a 'small tornado outbreak' could occur should we receive rain. Our son Dolan remarked he could handle a 'small tornado outbreak' if we received a little rain with it. I recalled the storms of April 2009 and my diary observations from that week...

April 29, 2009
I have always loved storms since early childhood and have a memory of being about four standing on a covered porch with my Father. We were watching horizontal rain, seeing bright lightening, and hearing the crashing and the roar of a storm. As an explanation my father told me it was nothing more than the ‘Old Man beating his thunder drum’. It was very exciting and that sense of excitement never left me. I have always experienced a rush almost akin to sexual excitement whenever a storm begins to build.

I have a friend who moved from Oklahoma to Portland to follow her lover. Early in her stay they were taking a walk when it began to mist. Oklahoma training kicked in and she bolted for the nearest store awning, seeking refuge from the inevitable onslaught. He followed and asked why her sudden lurch. She replied, ‘Isn't all hell getting ready to break loose?’ ‘No, its just rain’, he said. She was dumbfounded as she waited for the sudden drenching downpour, the 30 to 40 mile and hour winds, the roar and crash of the storm… it never arrived. The rain was gentle and soothing, a fine mist that could be walked through and enjoyed without terror. She was enthralled, married him, and still lives in Portland.

Not me! I could not survive without the excitement of breathlessly waiting, watching as the dark and darker clouds begin to form then swell and roll, churning in gigantic swirling motions, increasing in velocity with each passing moment. The wind begins and can be heard traveling through the trees minutes before it hits, rustling at first then twisting the branches in violent whirling circles. It builds to a crescendo and arrives with a deafening voice all its own making
communication available only through shouting. Your face is pelted with tiny particles of dust picked up from neighboring fields and the sky becomes black.

Standing in a field as this happens is enthralling, exciting and your heart begins to pound as your hair and clothing are whipped and you are barely able to keep your footing. And then the lightning begins to crack. One, two, three, four… counting while waiting for the thunder to tell you how many miles before the rain arrives. If the first drops are big, then hail will be within the storm; if they are small, it will be wind whipped horizontal sheets.

When we had horses, they would sense what was coming and begin pacing restlessly, neighing with uneasiness hours before the storms arrived. They would rear and paw the air as if it was alive with a force that they could defeat in a battle. We would release them from the paddock and they would run splashing through the creek, galloping to out run the approaching elements.

As the children grew, they studied cloud formations and raced to the North field to watch as tornados formed overhead. We saw the May third 1999 tornado form and watched as it moved to I-40 to follow the high way path to destruction in Oklahoma City; it was huge from the very beginning. We even had to out run one once. We saw black clouds to the North and had loaded into the station wagon to go to the top of the hill to check out the storm; it was sunny overhead. As we drove the storm suddenly blew out from the edge and a funnel snaked from the cloud, smashing to the ground on the hill in front of us, picking up dust and roaring. Michael hit reverse and squealed backwards at 40 MPH as it came rushing at us like a cosmic fullback. Then it lifted as quickly as it fell.

The elements are alive… that I know as fact. They are entities that must be placated and honored. When a storm approaches we give a shot of good whiskey to the Four Winds, asking them to show mercy on our person, our animals, and our small patch of ground. Asking them to accept our offering with kind favor… and often, they accept our submission to their force and glory and spare us their fury.

No, I could never live in Portland where the rain falls like a fine mist.


Footnote: The May 3, 1999 tornado we saw spawned an outbreak which produced at least 66 tornadoes in Oklahoma, making it by far the most prolific tornado outbreak in state history and included the only F-5 tornado ever recorded.

Wind Storms and Violets~

The arrival of Spring this year has been remarkable for never have so many early flowers, trees, and shrubs bloomed at the same time. Apparently the high temperatures have forced the usually staggered-paced blooming to appear in tandem. Consequently the sights and scents are truly spectacular and one must marvel at the beauty of the surrounding countryside. The Redbuds are providing a stunning display.

The drought is another matter entirely and has reached epic proportions, breaking all state records. As our neighbors on either coast and in between are experiencing flooding and even snowfall, we seem stuck in an unrelenting weather pattern that has the rains falling just to our east. The wind is a force unto itself with continuous forty to sixty MPH gusts for over two weeks now. With no significant rain since October and the wind storms drying the garden to the bone, it is important to begin watering. The urge to live is paramount in early spring, but everything needs a bit of moisture to survive the weekly onslaught of the wind. Since I have a rather vivid imagination, I often imagine dry flowers as horseless cowboys lost and wandering in a desert. Picture endless sand under a blazing hot sky, distant mirages swimming... trapped and gasping for a drink of water. Think Hildago... only with roots instead of boots, poor things. And a flower bravely trying to live in a crack of concrete on a busy city sidewalk can break my heart.

On any walk through the woodlands, one sees sweet violets peeking out among the dry leaves. Often called Johnny-Jump-Ups for this habit, they are among the first to arrive at the garden party and that precious little face is always welcomed. Appearing in a myriad of colors, the violet is native to our hemisphere and appears all over the world with over 500 species. The pansy, viola, and violet are all close cousins and among the most popular bedding plants.

As with most plants, there is a colorful mythological history surrounding the violet. According to Greek legend, Zeus who was King of the gods, had taken a fancy to a nymph named Io. Infidelity is certainly nothing new and Zeus was behaving badly in this instance. He attempted to hide his mistress from his wife Hera by changing her into a white cow. Needless to say Io was unimpressed with this change and complained bitterly over the taste and texture of the coarse grass. As she wept sad cow tears, Zeus changed them into dainty, sweet-smelling violets that only she was permitted to eat.

The Roman myth involves Venus, the goddess of love, who was always cross with mortal women. Apparently she fell into a jealous rage when foolish Cupid judged some mortal ladies more beautiful than she. In revenge, Venus swooped down and beat the poor maidens until they became blue before turning them into violets, thus eliminating the competition.

Napoleon was a devout fan of the violet and when he married Josephine she wore them in her hair. On every wedding anniversary he sent her a bouquet and before leaving for exile he visited her tomb where he picked woodland violets. Following his death, these violets were found in a locket he wore around his neck.

Symbolically, dreaming of violets is a promise of advancement in life and it is claimed a garland worn about the head prevents dizziness. They are considered a good luck gift to a woman but if violets bloom in autumn, it is said epidemics will follow within the year.

To pick the flowers, follow the short stem to the bottom and pinch between thumb and forefinger, find a short sweet vase, and enjoy…they last a week and smell delightful!

Bugs... think 'Art of War'

These bugs are making more bugs!!

Prior to the spring invasion of bugs, some rules should be established to deal with invasions. I feel a hands-on approach is best for the garden and gardener alike.

Often it seems gardeners are somewhat overwhelmed and outnumbered if one considers that there are over one million different species of insects in the world. Recently North Carolina scientists took a five-inch deep soil sample and tested it for insect and microorganism populations; their study indicated the presence of approximately 124 million living things per acre!

The good news is that most species are not remotely interested in what is growing in the garden and not all insects are created equal. Some are beneficial and others require extermination. It may also be noted that most insects are very selective about what they choose to eat. The same insect that has an affinity for dahlias may avoid the delphinium growing next to it so knowing the enemy is important.

Gardeners are basically pacifists so it is necessary to occasionally accept advice from 'The Art of War'; victory may be achieved only when one knows the enemy. In order to evaluate the damage caused by insects, one needs to first inspect the plants, preferably prior to wantonly killing every beneficial insect with widespread and random spraying. With overzealous spraying the darling Lady Bugs will meet the same fate as the Aphids. Cut worms must die, but the plump Striped Swallow Tail caterpillar eating the Dill should be left to cocoon then emerge as a lovely butterfly later in the season. Some bugs hide in the morning to emerge in the evening, while others (like grasshoppers) enjoy the heat of the day. Learn the habits of the hoards.

The slugs which inevitably arrive after spring rains dissolve nicely with a sprinkle of salt, and the rolly-pollies are usually in clusters which may be easily stepped on and squished. Perhaps entertain yourself by hand picking for awhile. Take a cup of hot water, squirt a little dish washing detergent into it to either kill what you pick or at least burn their eyes and prevent their escape. Squash bugs hate the solution!

If you have a tree that is 'weeping' buy a large syringe sans needle then fill it with one part vegetable oil, two parts dish washing detergent, and two parts water. Squirt the mixture in the weeping crevice and watch as tiny brown beetles and white thread like worms cluster from the crevice to writhe in agony before dying. This is wonderful garden entertainment that is very pro-active and empowering!

As summer arrives this year, no doubt the garden will suffer with the arrival of hoards of blister bugs, grasshoppers and other detestable vermin, but consider careful and prudent control... the Praying Mantis will thank you.

Besides being lovely, Dragonflies eat mosquitoes!

The Redbud and Tulips~

The current chill is exactly what we needed to assure beautiful blooms on the Peonies this year. They need a good dose of cold in order to produce bountiful flowers. Luckily, we lost only a few mid-blooming Jonquils that were in the boot last week.

The fabulous Redbud, our state tree, has begun to bloom and can be seen dotting the landscape everywhere. The delicate lavender and fuchsia flowers crawl along the bare branches before the heart-shaped leaves emerge, thus making it one of the earliest signs of spring. The Redbud is an ancient species common in North America, Europe, Japan, and Asia where it can grow as tall as 40 feet. It is also called the Judas tree because of the belief that Judas Iscariot, the betrayer of Christ, hanged himself on a Redbud tree.

The early tulips have begun to bloom as well. With over 3,000 varieties available at affordable prices, there are tulips for every taste. Gardeners can plan a continuous spring show by planting several varieties which bloom in successive intervals. The early pastel heirloom, the mid-blooming fragrant ruffled, and finally the late blooming sexy-scalloped parrot will provide continuous flowers for almost a month each spring.

One year we bought several hundred bulbs at a Fall close out sale for pennies on the dollar. Of course they were not top quality, but still we imagined at least some of them would produce a show for us. I carefully planted mine in appointed places in the beds while Michael tossed his indiscriminately into the vinca. I must admit, his looked far better than mine peeking up from the greenery here and there as an early spot of color.

Tulips make lively indoor arrangements and it is delightful to be able to bring cut flowers inside this early in the season. Do remember that tulip stems continue to grow several inches after they have been cut. This is the reason that many tulip displays tend to develop a droop over the edge of the vase after several days. This effect is quite attractive but choose a vase that will allow for dramatic flow.

Several retail outlets are offering marigolds and other summer annuals for sale now. It is too early for these flowers, who like it hot, and they will not survive erratic spring weather so it is best to wait awhile before purchasing them.
However they could all be started from seed on a windowsill now and they will be ready for the garden at the perfect time.

One year before a late freeze I cut everything and gifted my friends!

Viburnum and New Grass

With the world spinning very quickly these days, it is more important than ever to seek some harmonic softeners in some aspect of daily life. The escalation of current technology has become mind-boggling when one considers that only 100 years ago the main duty of School Boards in rural Oklahoma was to provide hay for the children’s horses and fire wood for the stoves. Now more than ever the peaceful expanse of the garden is not only desirable, but a necessary means to keep one grounded. Whether you are six or sixty, there is no pastime more joyful than playing in the dirt so this spring plan on some serious down-time in the garden.

The heat of last week pushed the garden headlong into spring, with almost all of the early bloomers making a show. With usual weather, the flowering arrives in staggered waves rather than all at once. Thankfully the chill will slow it down a bit so once it begins to warm again we may go outside to enjoy our early spring.

Nature endowed the earliest spring bloomers with the sweetest scents and the Viburnum is no exception. Of course we have the Asians to thank for the sweet spicy scent; our native Viburnum do not possess the spellbinding aroma. A member of the Honeysuckle family, Viburnum are seen all across North America, in Europe and all of Asia, making them a naturalized global sensation. And their early arrival makes them one of the first seasonal feasts for the bees.

The Viburnum is a small tree with easy growing habits that has been a garden necessity since the early 1900’s. The Korean Spice has lovely white or pink flower clusters which appear before all of the dark and heavily ribbed leaves have matured. Their scent is sweetly enchanting, almost delicious, as it wafts through the garden carried by the breezes. And their show does not end after flowering; the flowers become berries prized by birds and the foliage turns a lovely dusty red in the fall.

Summer Snowflake(above)is another fantastic Viburnum. Although not as fragrant as the Korean Spice, it blooms several weeks later and has the most lovely drifting layers... as though it is wearing white lace petticoats peeking from under a deep green dress. Both species are spectacular additions to the garden and promise years of carefree beauty.

The early grasses have arrived as well and the tender lush carpet is calling for bare feet to ‘feel’ the first sign of spring. If you do not have a baby of your own, borrow one and be the first to remove booties and let tiny feet feel grass for the first time. Crinkling toes gingerly curling, opening and closing, surprised and curious… first garden experiences are a great way to giggle!

Julia loves the grass~

Thoughts on Truning Sixty...

Turning sixty is most certainly a milestone in any life. In recognizing my age I am also able to recollect the events I have been able to witness and I am truly grateful for the opportunities I have had.

If I were not sixty, I would have missed:
The time when mothers were at home while fathers went to work. Childhood would not have included an extended family of grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins all gathering on Sunday to recount the week's events. Back then, neighborhoods were safe and watchful; people were polite and generous with a sense of purpose which involved caring for the young and the old with equal diligence. The term 'latch key' did not exist.
Pleasures were as simple as a walk in the park, fishing for crawdads, ice skating on a frozen pond, dancing in a community pavilion at the beach, occasionally going to the drive-in theater or having simple Sunday night dinners on with TV trays while the whole family watched Disney. I would have missed 'cruising' when gasoline was a quarter a gallon and everybody could go out on Saturday night knowing they would not be shot.

I would have missed:
The times of turbulence of the 1970's. I was in college at that singular time and it was incredibly exciting to be involved in the push to end the war, give women equal rights, and bring politicians to accountability. I burned my bra in a crowd of 300, lit candles when the National Guard gunned down innocent students at Kent State, gathered with thousands to protest Vietnam, heard Martin Luther King's speech live, sat up late at night over marijuana and strong coffee discussing strategies and writing intellectual and emotional essays to address the ills of our society. Entire intercity neighborhoods included old timers and hippie/students who put twinkle lights in the back yard and had cook outs while girls hand embroidered jeans, men hand tooled leather, and children danced about. Blue jeans became the universal uniform, sex was death free and rain wasn't acid. It was an outrageous and hopeful time full of unimagined collective energy. I am glad I was a young adult and not a child then... I would have missed it.

I am glad I didn't miss:
The 'Back to Earth' movement even if we didn't know it was a movement. The cities became so angry by 1975. Watergate, the assassinations of men of peace, the winding down of equal rights, the drugs which made their appearance were dangers that could not be escaped so we simply left. Many of us returned to our roots; to the places where our grandparents raised a family amid the simple pleasures of our own youth. The gift of a small town where the doors are never locked at night, where the car keys need not be removed, where you can call the pharmacist at home to meet you if the children became ill during the night... all this was too important to miss. I'm glad I didn't.

I am so happy I was able to experience:
Farm life before the disasters of the 1980's and closure of the family farm as a treasured institution. Family farming was over by the time John Cougar Mellencamp wrote the poignant song "The Auctioneer" and Willie Nelson began his battle to save them. Family farms were still on every section of land in 1975 so we became part of a close knit community of neighbors. I was able to go to quilting bees with little old ladies who had quilted together for forty years. My stitches are in their quilts and even though the ladies are all gone now, the quilts have been lovingly passed on. They took me under their wing and I learned short cuts to canning, how to milk a cow, plant a garden and the joy of fresh eggs. We attend family and community berry picking parties followed by homemade pies, guitar music, tall tales and ageless laughter. I was able to push back time a little and give my children an antique life style that has all but disappeared. I am happy I didn't miss it.

I am glad I was included:
In Native American cultures before casinos made their way there. In the 1990's the magic of the culture still existed. The elders were still living and tribal spirituality was an everyday way of life. The open generosity of Native Americans was to be envied. It included the belief that the measure of a person was not what you could amass personally, but rather what you could give to others. To admire a possession belonging to a Native American was for them to bestow it upon you. Condemnation was not in their vocabulary and laughter ran freely. I learned that Pow-Wow's were not a benefit where the promoters made money, but rather an event where they gave all that they could to each person attending asking only for collective prayers for the honoree. I would arrive at a camp with smoke drifting to the sky in the darkness above tepees, the drum beat as background music of another time, and my heart would leap. It called to me in an unimagined way and I felt at home there. To have been called to the grandstand to be honored and gifted by the Head Lady Dancer before a crowd of 5,000 Native Americans was truly one of the highlights of my life. The welcoming, the polite introductions, the respect and old fashioned manners reminded me of my childhood in its sense of propriety. It is gone now with the advent of drugs and the passing of the elders. I'm glad I didn't miss it.

I'm glad I joined:
The new age of cyberspace with MySpace in 2006. My last child was leaving home so in my moments of empty nest sadness, I found new friends. I met wonderful people from far reaching places and we shared thoughts, joys and successes. We discussed philosophy, religion, gardening and my women's group was supportive in a way I needed... with wisdom only dear friends provide. On MySpace we sent birthday cards, gifts, and even collective prayers for one another. We exchanged seeds and my garden contains living memories of friends I will forever cherish. MySpace is gone now... I'm so glad I didn't miss it.

I must say I have experienced a multitude of exciting and memorable events that I might have missed had I been born in another time...I'm happy to be sixty!

Spring Images~

Tulips and Comfrey

Woodland Redbuds... gorgeous!

 

Chile Peppers… Ancient and Important

Several years ago the Journal of Science reported that the popular Chile pepper may be the oldest cultivated spice in the Americas. A 6,100 year old archaeological specimen, a bowl, was found intact. As scientists scraped the residue, they found it contained both Chile peppers and corn. In all, seven New World sites have found Chile pepper residues and also the remnants of corn. This would suggest that these two foods, still intimately paired in South American cuisine, have been used as staples since ancient times.

The study was conducted by a team of 15 scientists who found the residues in utensils in both the Amazon basin and on the coast of Ecuador. This was positive indication that cultivation occurred in coastal tropical cultures, which until now were considered primitive. The peppers were important enough to be traded across the huge mountain range to the home of the sophisticated and advanced Incas.

Additionally, the researchers believe further study may show that peppers have actually been used 1,000 years earlier than their current oldest specimen. The birthplace of agriculture has long been considered the Fertile Crescent of Mesopotamia. With this discovery the pepper will join the list of ancient spices cultivated there. The three oldest known spices are Capers which have been found at 10,000 year old sites in Iran and Iraq; Coriander found at an 8,500 year old site in Israel; and Fenugreek in Syria's Tell Aswad, which is 9,000 years old.

It is not known whether the Capers, Fenugreek, or Coriander were domesticated or wild, however it has been determined that the peppers and corn had been domesticated. To be considered domesticated, a population of plants must have their behavior, life cycle or appearance significantly altered as a result of being under the control of humans for multiple generations. Within decades of European contact, the New World plant was carried across Europe and into Africa and Asia where it was met with wild enthusiasm. Upon acceptance on these continents, it was further altered through selective breeding until today it exists in some form almost everywhere. The Chile pepper is an essential cooking ingredient in Hungary, where Paprika is a national symbol, in Ethiopia, with its signature spice Berbere, and in China, where entire cuisines are built around its heat. In our own Southwest, hanging peppers outside the kitchen is believed to bring good luck.

We have the foresight of our neighbors to our South to thank for this ancient and fabulous species of plant. They are easily grown here as our hot and dry summers are perfect for their temperment; they thrive here. If you are lacking a vegetable garden tuck one here and there among the flowers. The plants have varying degrees of heat… from mild to eye-watering so choose one that matches your tastes. Salsa anyone?

Photo Credit Dave Smith~ Tucson market selling hanging Peppers~

Trimming Fruit Trees

Flowering Crab in front of the cabin

Before fruit trees come out of dormacy, they probably need to be trimmed using the five ‘D' rule that applies to pruning. The D’s are dead, damaged, dying, diseased or deformed wood. Begin by removing all the water sprouts or suckers; the thin, whip-like wood that juts straight up from the main limbs but could never support any fruit. With a folding saw or running shears, cut down to the supporting branch and leave behind no trace of the sucker or its swollen base.

Then there is the possibility one needs to remove some large branches. First step back and evaluate the tree, or perhaps take pictures. One of the great things about the digital age is the fact one may take a photo and graphically “prune” out some wood before making any real cuts. With your favorite photo-editing program, crop or black-out the branches you think the tree would be better without. If the tree looks better without the branches then proceed with cutting them.

The basic idea is to open the center of the tree up from the congestion too many branches create which prevents light and air circulation. Never remove more than one third of the live wood in any year. Therefore, it will take at least three years to accomplish what you imagined when you “pruned” the expendable parts of the tree out of the snapshot.

When removing large branches, first reduce the weight of the limb by cutting off half of it. Pruning is a three-step process, to prevent tearing. The first cut is always an undercut, made no more than halfway through the branch from underneath. Next, an uppercut, from the top, just slightly farther out on the limb from the undercut, will leave a stepped-off stub.

If the limb is still very heavy and long, repeat the first two steps until you have still less weight. Then begin the final cut near the trunk, a one-step cut from above or below, depending on what angle suits the tree best. Make this just outside the branch-bark collar or ridge, which on many trees is a visibly raised spot where trunk and limb tissue meet. Never cut into the collar; but never leave a big stub, either. The tree will heal itself without wound paint if the collar is left intact. Finish with an application of dormant oil spray and look forward to a sizable harvest from you orchard.

Pear Trees in Bloom

The Tragedy in Japan

I cannot turn on the television anymore… the images of Japan seem surreal and the situation is too horrible for imagination. I can scarcely breathe when I see it. The world is witnessing a cultural catastrophe of significance, with scenes more horrific than the eruption of Vesuvius and destruction of Pompeii by the sheer magnitude of it. It is heartbreaking.

When Japan comes to mind, I never think of Tokyo and bustling technology; I think of gardens. For hundreds of years, the Japanese have taken horticulture very seriously and gardeners are among the most respected of artisans. Their successes include cultivation and hybridization of almost every plant we treasure and much of the Japanese culture is steeped in celebration of the Seasons with ceremonies honoring flowers. Their gardens are among the most cherished in the world and have been duplicated (in part) by everyone who has ever had a trowel and a vision. Their ancient culture is steeped in propriety, respect, and aesthetics.

When I was in high school my parents were a host family for the Oklahoma City Chamber of Commerce. As a host family we were often called upon to take visiting foreigners into our home and entertain them by giving them a small measure of our culture. My Mother believed it was a good way for her three girls to meet people from different cultures and interact with them on an individual basis... she was right. Most of our guests were from Japan and we usually spent three to five days with them. The exception was the gentleman from Thailand, who lived with us for almost a year.

Often I would arrive home from school to find a group of Japanese tourists in the living room having tea. They would giggle and bow as introductions were made and always wanted to visit the Oklahoma Cowboy Hall of Fame as their first destination. (The wild west is infinitely fascinating to those who have never lived it.) In the evenings we would all roll up our sleeves and talk, translation book in hand, bowing to each other while chopping vegetables for the traditional Japanese meal they always insisted on preparing for us... so we would know their culture and cultures are always reduced to food! Always, always, they were polite, respectful, and truly a beautiful and joyous people that made the experience memorable.

We often kept in touch and when my parents traveled to the Orient, they stayed with many of our former guests. It was back in the pen-pal days so I exchanged letters with many and we became good friends during our respective college years. As our lives became busy, I lost track of them and wonder where they are now... I feel an overwhelming sadness for them.

The world will be changed forever by the loss Japan is experiencing; something fine and beautiful has been permanently altered. However I know the Japanese people are among the most resilient on Earth... things will change but somehow they will survive. After all, they are the creators of wabi-sabi.

St. Patrick, the Shamrock, and Oxalis

Oxalis is smack-dab in the center of the bed~ Click on pic to enlarge~

Spring is ushered in on March 21st with the Vernal Equinox...that brief moment in time when there are equal parts of both day and night. However it is also welcomed with the celebration of Saint Patrick’s Day on March 17th . Those of Irish heritage will celebrate his saint’s day by wearing a shamrock, planting their potatoes, and possibly imbibing large quantities of alcohol.

Saint Patrick was born a pagan in Wales in 387 and died a Christian in 461. His rock-star status continues to this day with celebrations which have surpassed the Catholic faith and become secular. Saint Patrick converted the pagan Celts to Christianity and was adept at using their sacred beliefs and symbols to describe Christian concepts... thus he used the magical shamrock to clarify the trinity. Using the tri-leaf of the clover he explained that the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit were each separate entities but, as the stem suggests, all part of the whole. Early converts adopted the custom of wearing a shamrock as a sign of their faith.

When the English began confiscating Irish lands and outlawing Catholism and the Celtic language in the 17th century, the shamrock become the symbol of emerging nationalism and Irishmen wore it as a symbol of their heritage. Unfortunately it became a symbol of rebellion to the English and soon wearing a shamrock became crime punishable by hanging. However the Irish immigrants to America suffered no such persecution and in 1737 the residents of Boston celebrated the first Saint Patrick’s day with public celebrations, parades, and pub parties. Times do change so by the early 1900’s Queen Victoria had instructed all Irish soldiers to wear a shamrock on St. Patrick’s Day in memory of the soldiers who died in the Boer War… a custom which continues today. Additionally the Shamrock is the registered trademark of the Republic of Ireland and appears in the Royal arms of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland and on a seemingly endless array of logos which include race horses and sporting teams.

In March the lovely oxalis, the largest genus of the wood-sorrel family, began appearing in the garden… calling to Irish descendants to remember their heritage. My twenty year old friend, a lovely pink, still blooms faithfully from spring throughout the summer and will rebloom in fall if cut back in August. For something new perhaps add a purple leaf with her halo of pale pink flowers that drift above the striking foliage… surely a stunning focal point for any garden.

They adore the shade, tolerate the heat, and even refuse to wilt if not watered regularly. Oxalis will reward the gardener with their easy-going nature and long life expectancy... happily, they will be permanent residents of the garden for many, many years.

Boost the Immune System Naturally

Echinacea purpurea...

The weather of late has been schizophrenic to say the least and the forecast predicts more erratic behavior in the coming weeks. With temperature fluctuations of 50 degrees or more within a two week span, about now it would be wise to look to nature to boost the immune system.

Until the advent of antibiotics, Nature provided all the ingredients to insure survival and health for the inhabitants of the planet. Here in North America our own Native Americans survived severely harsh conditions with an intricate knowledge of healthful foods. The Plains Indians ate as they nomadically traveled and the Apache alone had over 200 items in the yearly diet. Much of what they “found” along their path was both nutritional and medicinal.

An example of one of their naturally occurring health boosters are the Rose Hips found on wild bushes from Texas to North Dakota. Rose hips have long been a valuable source of Vitamin C, which easily boosts the immune system. The hips are the berries formed on the rose following flowering and contain as much ascorbic acid as an orange. In fact the portion of the orange containing the most health benefits is the bitter white inside the rind that most people discard. During WWII the federal government recommended that citizens add rose hips to their stews as a vegetable and recommended brewing it as a tea for the health benefits.

Another valuable immune boosting plant is the Echinacea. Results of archaeological digs indicate that Native Americans have used this marvelous plant for over 400 years. It was used to treat everything including infections, wounds, scarlet fever, blood poisoning, and diphtheria. Considered a valuable cure-all for hundreds of years, its popularity declined with the advent of antibiotics. Today Echinacea is used to reduce the symptoms and duration of the common cold or flu, and the symptoms which accompany them such as sore throat, cough and fever.

Recent reports from the medical community have issued alarms that antibiotics no longer work; our systems are saturated with them. It is not necessary to actually take an antibiotic to ingest substantial amounts of them either. They arrive in our bodies from consuming milk and meat from cattle that are overly medicated, eggs from chickens that receive a daily dose, and so forth. I consider this medical warning a strong indication that we best seek natural cures that have been around for eons. Nature contains an arsenal of plants and herbs that were put here for us to use; grow and harvest some of the plants that kept our ancestors alive and well.

Making Lemonade From A Lemony Snicket~ Adapting

The Courting Swing in the North Field... September of 2007

Lemony Snicket Summer...a Series of Unfortunate Events.
September of 2007, Summers End... Thank God

In the past month, a total of five households have moved... all requiring our help, supervision, and energy. I hope they are happy!! By the way, did I forget to mention the riding lawn mower has been in the shop since early July? It came home once and we began mowing only to have it stop then shock the bejeebers out of Michael so it was back to the shop for the fourth time this Summer.

The yard looks like a scraggly field. My garden is overgrown and covered with Johnston grass, the flowers are all spent and the trees have made an impenetrable canopy that killed the lawn. The damn moles have eaten every one of my bulbs leaving enormous holes in the flower beds which became caverns after the recent flood; over thirty years of work ruined! Henceforth, I have decided we will abandon gardening and have a nice easy-to-manage Koi pond instead.

Our home is sitting here in a state of antique decrepitude waiting for our attention which is not forthcoming. The overgrown trees and lawn, the sinking patio bricks, the house and awnings needing paint, the summer pool a dingy green, ditches formed by washed-out walkways and the flooded storage barn will have to wait while we attempt to recover. So grand was the family exodus that it seemed we experienced an in-home reenactment of the Jews fleeing Egypt! The cob webs of their lives are all that remain and no one seems to want them or they too would be caught-up and packed! Stressful events? It is our everyday life and it will be different but somehow we will adapt...

Where did the time go? Darling Peter and I at Christmas, way back when (Please note overalls and the clip on bow tie) and in 2007...after he jumped from a plane~

Weddings, Barn Dances, and Babies...Often Change is Good!
Spring of 2011~

I had written in my journal of the Lemony Snicket Summer of 2007 so I could remember it amid the confusion and apparently it was just another chapter in our lives. In retrospect I can see I was in a state of mild depression over the move of my last child... and only daughter. She had rushed from home that summer in a fever of first love, 'packing' her closet in black plastic bags, dumping her drawers into boxes... her entire life here packed and packaged in only two hours. She wanted her own home.... and Alex.

At the time I saw no respite from the current events, however as Grandpa Dougherty always said, 'Things will work out.'...and they have.

On Our Way to A Wedding~

The households grew and prospered and we have welcomed new family members with a wedding each summer. John bought a lovely brick with a half acre to expand upon. Then Dolan and Tara bought six acres and refurbished the farm house that once belonged to a dear friend. Next Marshall and Andrea bought an historic 1930's bungalow and last year, with the tax incentives, both Patrick and Lize and Alex bought homes. Andrew lives with Patrick and his lady, Kimmer, and each evening at least four family members gather at one house or another for a sit-down dinner. Marshall and Andrea have given us our first grandchild who tickles me... and it seems she thinks I'm funny.

Darling Julia~

We painted the house!

Michael and I managed to paint the house with Michael hanging over the roof edge with a roller as I pointed to various trim. The gardens were redesigned, the brick walkway repaired, and I made a curved gravel pathway adjacent to the garden. The massive vegetable garden has become a croquet court and since the new families plant their own gardens, I can still enjoy shopping for produce at their houses. Our former swimming pool was transformed into a Zen-like aquatic pond with water lilies and a medley of frogs have taken residence and sing to us each Summer night.

The Frog Pond Fairy~

Even the contents of the storage barn have new homes. I called everyone and told them we were planning to 'clean out all storage' by gifting the contents to all comers. The guys, Lize, and my daughter-in-laws arrived in tandem and created individual piles, often trading during their process of acquisition. (How Tara ended up with eight of Grandmother's coveted 1930's grape-cluster capped wine servers remains a mystery.) By days end, the storage barn was empty and everyone was breathlessly gushing over their new acquisitions. For my children it was like meeting old friends as they rediscovered their childhood treasures.

Stored Items... gone!

The business expanded and the family works together each day.... building the tree saw that Peter and Patrick invented. (Although Patrick expanded on the original idea. ) Our newest hires are Lize and Alex' younger brother, Greg. With the downturn in the economy, we simply did what we know to do in such situations...we 'packed it in' and built the business at the base of the hill where the barn once stood. I was sad to see it go, but change is inevitable and adapting is necessary for happiness. It is very busy down there once again but instead of milking the cow, saddling horses, or hammering metal swords for make believe battles, there is fevered activity and the business is supporting the entire family in fine fashion.

The guys assembling one of the new buildings~

So once again, to my delight, everyone arrives each morning to gather for gossip and coffee before work. They gather here at days end to give their father and me (and each other) good-bye kisses before their evening departure. Things do change, but often change is not something to be feared, it is simply part of the process of living. And Grandpa was right...things did work out.