Why it is difficult to garden with so many cats

Cats attacking the hoe and mashing emerging asparagus

Cats resting where seeds have just been planted even though I attempted to thwart their efforts.

Finally, Zilla flat out refusing to move even after threatening her.

Don't Forget!!

Flip that switch tonight at 8 p.m. for Earth Hour.

I Need a Table Runner for my Entire House

Seriously, I do need a table runner for my entire house. I would like to blame the clutter on my children, husband, the yellow dog, or the cats (I still don't want to know the exact count), but I, too, am guilty of clutter. There are seed packets, peat pots, soil block makers, garden shoes, and garden plans on every surface.

There are books, school work, and projects on every other surface.

On the surfaces not previously covered there are mounds of dirty clothes or stacks of clean, folded clothes.

And, I have a flat of Louisiana strawberries minus the one pint I ate sitting on my kitchen table amidst the clutter.

Help!!!!

My Mama Taught Me Better

Than to invite people over and talk about politics, but after a week of politely waiting I am still itching to say one or two words about Barack Obama's race speech. I just can't stand it. Come back tomorrow if you don't want to hear it.

Many journalists are comparing Obama's speech to the likes of Martin Luther King's I have a Dream or Letter from the Birmingham Jail, or J.F. Kennedy's Houston Ministerial Address, asking whether it will stand alongside some of the memorable speeches on race. Maybe. I didn't get to hear or see the speech since we choose not to have television, though I did read the transcript. I thought it was a wonderfully open discourse on some of the racial problems plaguing our country. He did a fabulous job slipping out of the sticky Rev. Wright alliance question. Anyway.

What I do want to know . . .

Is whether he or a speech writer opened up the Bartlett's Familiar Quotations or The Oxford Dictionary of Quotations to pluck Faulkner's "The past is never dead. It's not even past." from the vast number of entries on the past, or whether he read Requiem for a Nun and remembered the line? Did he intend to evoke Faulkner's old south characters, miscegenation themes, and racial inequities to further his point? Did he know that "The past is never dead. It's not even past." used as it is in Requiem could also mean that Rev. Wright's words live on in him?

Does he really need the Sutpens, Bons, Coldfields, McCaslins, and Snopes hopping around behind his words? Do they change the spoken words?

Though I question, I do admire Barack Obama's well honed speech and . . .

his use of Faulkner. If he wanted to use Faulkner could a better Faulkner line be:

I believe man will not merely endure, he will prevail. He is immortal, not because he, alone among creatures, has an inexhaustible voice but because he has a soul, a spirit capable of compassion and sacrifice and endurance.

Taken out of context from Faulkner's Nobel Prize Acceptance Speech

The context of this statement is fear during and after World War II, but still what a lovely sentiment.

In the Clover

We plant clover along with rye grass in our pastures for winter forage for our cows and nitrogen fixation for our soil. In the garden, we plant clover in the fall for nitrogen and added organic matter. The garden clover is always a sight to behold because it has no competition from rye (which is considered a feeder grass), making it lush and fluffy almost like green clouds.

We find lots of things before we till it under-- children, a yellow dog, chickens . . .







Mosquitoes







Ladybugs













and . . .


Zilla in the clover.


All images provided by K.

Finishing

I finished some handmade projects last week just in time for the Easter fashion show. The first item is a dress (obviously not mine) that looks as fabulous on the inside as the outside. To me, finishing touches or details are what separate home sewn and a work of art that you happen to wear. Fabulous fabrics, perfect fitting, finished seams, flawless button holes, and quality buttons all commingle to produce something very special.

All this takes time, though. Frequently, though not this time, I underestimate the time needed to create these special garments and have to stay up all night attending to the details. This Easter I had a week to spare.

The sweater was inspired by the quilt. I wanted something so special that we would want to save it for my niece or even a grandchild (not that I want my 8 year old to start thinking about producing grandchildren). I hope I succeeded. I began knitting the sweater about a month ago, and honestly I didn't know if a month would be enough time. My knit shop, The Knit Studio, is in Jackson so anytime I changed my mind, needed yarn, or advice I had to wait until Thursday.

The first problem arose when I couldn't get gauge on my size 5 needles and I didn't have 6's. Instead of waiting, I decided to knit more stitches thereby creating a tighter weave. I liked the look, but ran out of yarn as I was two rows from the end of the last sleeve. The second problem was that when I started the duplicate stitch with only one color (the pattern suggested two, but I wanted the leaves to look more like the leaves on the dress) the leaves looked like a stain, so I had to wait to choose another color. The last problem arose when I wanted to change the direction of the crocheted, lacy trim. I didn't know how. I waited awhile, but then decided to finish the project without that design change.

I enjoy sewing for Princess because she honestly appreciates the effort and results. She gets involved in the fabric and design choices, but lets me create when I get the notion.

For those of you taking notes:

The sweater is the free pattern Elizabeth by Berroco. I used Tahki Stacy Charles' Cotton Classic in color 3715 (spring green) for the sweater, 3724 (Leaf Green) and 3532 (Pale Lemon Yellow) for the leaves, and 3443 (Cotton Candy), knitted on size 5 needles. Instead of using five or six buttons I used only three and wished I had used only two. With a full dress and a little girl who likes to button the buttons if they are there you can have too many buttons. The buttons are antique pearl with a little five petal flower design. Thanks, mom!

The dress base is New Look 6309 view D, but I doubled the size of the sash and bow. I also lengthened the dress by about 4 inches, increased the size of the hem, and I think that's it. The fabric is 100% cotton faille, so is the lining.

Swarm

Wednesday, during school, because we were completely unprepared for spring beekeeping since we have had such strange weather, K and I noticed a swarm developing outside of our rough and tumble hive number two. Though timing wasn't perfect because of wind and impending thunderstorms, having a hive swarm in the spring is not a bad thing. In fact, spring swarming has even been recognized as a good thing in the children's picture book, Beekeepers by Linda Oatman High, with this nice ditty:

A swarm in May
Is worth a load of hay.
A swarm in June
Is worth a silver spoon.
A swarm in July
Isn't worth a fly.

As is usual our seasons are not the same as depicted in most books, so perhaps a swarm in March is worth, let's see. . . What rhymes with March that is as good as a silver spoon???

Having a husband who will come and climb the shaky ladder with gigantic pruners, hang onto the branch loaded with bees with one hand while bracing the loppers against his body to make the cut, maintain control when the ladder starts sinking into the wet hill, and then successfully hive the swarm is priceless.

Anyway, because the wind was blowing so hard, K and I had to wait and chase the swarm for a long time. As soon as they looked as if they were going to settle a huge gust of wind would blow, the bees would change their minds, and we would wait and watch, watch and wait, wait and watch.


Once they finally settled in a fir tree branch that was hanging over the edge of a hill, we called Mr. W. We share bee keeping duties, and since these bees came out of that persnickety hive that has given me trouble in the past, I decided this swarm was his. Wasn't that nice of me?

Before you think I'm mean, let me assure you that bees don't normally sting during swarming. I suppose they don't really have anything to protect. I took that first picture without a zoom lens and without a bee bonnet. K took the rest. We never donned our beekeepers suits.

While I did have a hive built and painted, it was no where close to being ready for bees since it was in the shed with no frames. While Mr. W captured the swarm, I got the box ready and decided where to put it. With a swarm from one of our hives, we need to make sure the new hive placement was not too close to the mother hive. I don't like drifting bees who jump from hive to hive, so I make sure to place the new hive well away so there is no confusion.

Once you set your location and get your hive placed, add about six frames (not all ten) so that you will have room for the bees. Sprinkle the bees with water so they won't fly, then shake them in the hive.
Close the hive, reduce the entrance.

Now all there is to do is to keep a close watch and provide sugar water until they build out the first level of wax foundation and start laying and putting aside honey.

Handmade

Some time last month while my husband was away, the children and I were all snuggled in my bed reading. Princess asked, "Which is your favorite flower?" At first I began thinking of peonies, azaleas, wisteria, irises, roses . . . Then I realized she wasn't talking about botanical flowers, but the quilted flowers on the Grandmother's Flower Garden quilt on my bed.

We studied the flowers and each picked a favorite and while choosing the flower of the moment talked about the time and effort spent, and the number of stitches Grandmother Florence stitched creating this beautiful quilt, one of many. This quilt was pieced by hand in 1931 by Grandmother Florence and quilted by hand by Grandmother Florence and her mother in 1932. When she gave it to me about twelve years ago, she tried to instill in me the value of her time and the quilt with detailed care instructions. She needn't have wasted her words. I knew.

After Mr. W. and I got married, we visited her and I admired her quilts. I decided to try to make one, a garden quilt. She instructed me on stitch size, keeping the stitches even, seam allowance. To create is art, but is also labor. The next trip home, I brought my work. I watched in horror as she disassembled entire flowers, critiquing technique, while explaining that the piecing had to be near perfect especially at corners for durability. I knew she was correct.

Durability. How many things in your home do you still find beautiful and useful after 76 years? How about after ten years? one year? six weeks? one week? I've been thinking a lot about this quilt, constructed of bits and pieces during the depression. In fact, I am inspired to make more life changes because of it.

I want fewer things, beautifully made. I want honest products. I want to make things my children will value. I want my life and all the things in it to be like this quilt - as practical, durable, and beautiful as the lady who made it. Though she died last year at 101, her legacy of practicality, of quality, honest work, of beauty will live through me.

Plum Blossoms

The plum trees are blooming! I was worried that we wouldn't have a blossoming because we had a freeze and snow (very unusual for us) a couple of weeks ago, but I suppose luck, orchard location, and the garden fence provided a little assistance.

Today was a gorgeous 75° day and the plum trees were a buzz with life. I counted 10 different types of flying insects on one tree. There were red wasps, bumble bees, butterflies, moths(I was forced to smash these), sweat bees, and many others. Of course, the trees were covered in honey bees (Better pictures of them here, here, and here. You may as well look at them all).

Thought you northern dwellers would appreciate a view of spring.

How many times?

A woman from here, who is just a year or two older than I, had an appendicitis, which is certainly not a normal every day event but does not necessarily mean poor health though adding a bit of fiber might help. Anyway, her appendix ruptured and the surgical team had to go in and clean up, if you know what I mean.

They found colon cancer, some sort of unidentified nodule on an ovary, and a cyst or something on a kidney. Having someone my age who thought she was perfectly healthy one day and the next contemplating how much colon should be removed, visits to gynecologists, and what if any treatments should be undergone made me think of my son's older friend, who though older felt healthy enough to buy a truck for the next 10 years only to enter the hospital the next day never to return home. (Does my lack of commas here send shivers up your spine?)

Needless to say, I have been brooding.

This is what I have determined in my brooding state. Life is not as predictable as we think. I have wasted much of mine waiting until things are perfect to live. If I continue waiting will life be whisked away before I live it?

So, no more will I say:

• I will have a party when the house is finished and immaculate.
• I will go to the pool with my children when I lose some weight and resemble my 16 year old self in a swim suit.
• I will go hiking when the children are older.
• I will write more when I have fewer interruptions.
• I will do, when

Honestly, the list is endless. Do you have one? What if?

My husband's gift

Doc (who now has her own domain), what do you think? Do you see anything bizarre about the gift from my hubby?

About twenty minutes before my husband was to leave for his February frolic, he said, "You need to feed your goats at the sale barn."

I said, "I don't have any goats."

"You do, now!"

I spent the next month trying to contain 5 goats purchased on a whim by my husband who was leaving town for a month, who felt sorry for the man who drove from Alabama to sell goats at the goat sale the C's used to host at my husband's barn once a month.

They are cute. But there is one small problem. Can you tell from the pictures? Take a guess!

Page 123

Zilla tagged me in attempt to get my lazy self to post. It worked. I couldn't resist.

Hmmmm. I try not to have any books in my office and for this one time in my life what I attempted and reality is close to the same. I do have one, though. My mother just gave it to my son. Unfortunately, it is a coffee table book and contains beautiful photographs of the Sahara for the most part. There is no writing on page 123, but on page 124 I took this excerpt:

The presence of vegetation, even if sparse and scattered, is an essential condition for the survival of animals. However, endemic Sahara species are rare: no sedentary birds and only three of the sixty-five mammal species are endemic (the fennec, the gerbil, and the addax antelope), along with six reptiles and about a dozen insect species.

From Sahara by Paolo Novaresio and Gianni Guadalupi

I always assumed gerbils came from a pet store. I never thought about them being a native species of anywhere, much less the completely harsh environs of the Sahara.

I once had a roommate with a gerbil. This annoying, squeaky wheel turning, escape artist made my life miserable for an entire summer until I ousted both the roommate and the gerbil at the convenient semester beginning purge. I was ever so thankful. Call me crazy, but I just don't like rodents, even if they are supposed to be cute, crawling on me in the night. I can see the girl and her gerbil, but cannot for the life of me remember their names.

Thanks Zilla for the kick, the interesting information, and the resulting college memory.

Thank You!

Zilla has once again shown compassion in the true Dickensian manner. I received an envelope with cash for the fund raiser at the Dixie National Trail Ride. I believe they earned $900 for the two meals the group served during the ride. This weekend there will be another fund raiser with barbecue chicken plates and fiddle music. If Zilla were here, she could eat, tap her foot, and maybe even try a little square dancing or clogging, all in the name of kindness.

I will forward the gift to the appropriate people. Thanks!!

Fungi

We are in the rainy season here in Mississippi. Though the longer term effects of this rain are aquifers full of water, lush growth for spring, and full streams and rivers after a drought year, the short term effect is a lot of fungi. Thanks to K for all of these pictures. Isn't he doing a great job?

These are shelf fungi on one of the dead, eighty year old pecan trees we have left for the woodpeckers, but no matter where you look fungus is everywhere. We are staying just warm enough to produce a bumper crop.

Mushrooms, anyone?

Dixie National Season

We've had visitors again. The Dixie National Trail Ride rode through our town and stayed at our sale barn. Last year it was cold. This year it was wet. In fact, many of the riders drove their horses and mules forward and let them stable in our barn while the worst of the rains passed. I don't blame them one bit, but with the local riders we tried to predict who was dedicated to ride even in stormy weather and mud.

This led to the "Would you ride?" questions. Mr. W said he was sane enough to park the horse for a day and resume riding the following day. I, of course, said I would ride just to prove how tough I was. No surprises here.

I didn't have to do the food this year because we loaned the kitchen to friends who were fund raising for the family of a man who just died of cancer. Originally the fund raising was for the man, but he died before the event, so the money was raised for the family who will be paying his medical bills for the rest of their lives.

Though I didn't have time to comment appropriately to Zilla's post, this is an example of one life moment leaving you homeless or in financial ruins - despite the best planning. I hope the cool, wet ride made everyone ravenous.

Much is the same year to year on the route of the Dixie National Trail Ride. Yet, at the base camps you can see how soft people have gotten. Trailers have gotten bigger and fancier. More people require electricity to supply power for heat or cooling, hot showers, television, and all of the other amenities of home. I sometimes wonder if anyone notices that they have left home because none of the comforts are gone.

Don't judge me for questioning.

I feel the same about the enormous RVs. What is the point of camping if you don't actually experience the outdoors???? Are we incapable of disconnecting even for a moment?? Just asking.

Do you think our insistence on immediate gratification has anything to do with our present economic situation, political corruption, and dissatisfaction with life in general?

My Son's First Friend

Ben, my son's first friend, died this morning. When we lived in town, Ben was our neighbor. When K was five he started wandering over to sit on Mr. Ben's porch while he read the paper. They talked, watched people drive up and down the road, and just sat. As time went by Ben, who was retired, taught K how to shoot a BB gun (since I wouldn't let him have one). K then went to Ben's almost every day to shoot magnolia pods from the fifty foot tree in Ben's front yard. When we moved to the country, Ben gave K his brother's ancient BB gun.

K continued to visit Ben whenever I was in town working. They sat on the porch and talked about guns, patterns of different ammo, and hunting. They listened to Paul Harvey. They sat. Ben restored an old 410 and gave it to K (after asking me) when the time came to advance beyond BB guns.

Ben took time with my son, taught him (some things for which I wasn't excited), told him about the old ways, and let my son be himself.

I'm sad. Sad for K, who has been upset for weeks, and sad because I, too, have lost a friend even though I, honestly, don't know that much about his true self. He was good to my children and that is all I needed to know. Though Ben was in his upper 70's, he seemed vigorous until right before Thanksgiving. Soon after, he had a few problems and was admitted to the VA hospital. He was released, then readmitted a few days before Christmas. Even though he had purchased a brand new truck the day before he first went to the hospital indicating he had no idea he was really sick, he had advanced stages of cancer with a maximum of six weeks to live.

We took him a small fake Christmas tree on Christmas day where he was housed in a room with three other veterans. Last week they moved him to a hospice, which is even more depressing than the VA hospital even though everything is decorated and they have a little courtyard - so much loneliness and waiting.

I'm glad he didn't last longer. I would rather K remember him on the porch, rather than lying on a hospital bed, disoriented by sedatives and cancer, though I was proud of my son during our visits. He showed a maturity beyond his age. He stood by his friend. He didn't want him to be lonely.

Loose Ends

While I was on my blogging writer's strike, I was tagged twice. I wouldn't want to lose those two readers since little to no writing produces few readers, so I will respond.

I was tagged first by Tara at Periwinkles and Pines back in November for the Eight Things Meme. I actually did this meme last June, but I bet I can think of a few more things.

1. I had my first child when I was 34.

2. My husband delivered my second child on the way to the hospital.

3. I rarely wear any jewelry, including my wedding ring.

4. I don't like to be late - ever. I don't like it when others are late.

5. Though I can sew, knit, and cook well, no one would ever confuse me for the June Cleaver sort.

6. If I've read the book, I will never watch the movie, even if I thought the book was written like a screen play.

7. I dance around the house whenever music is playing, even though doing so has sent me to the ER twice. My children like when I play Ballet Maid, but my husband laughs and says he won't take me to the hospital again. I don't believe him so I just keep dancing.

8. I'm still addicted to Tab.

I was tagged my, my NaBloPoMo friend, m~ ,with this rank increasing meme. Maybe this will increase my sagging readership.

Tag 5 other bloggers and just keep adding on to the list. (Do not replace, just keep on adding! Yes we hope it will be a long list!)It’s real easy! Tag others and see your Technorati Authority increase exponentially! The benefits of Viral Linking:
- One of the fastest ways to see your technorati authority explode!
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Don't you want to give it a try?

A Moment of Perfection

A couple of days ago, while lying in my warm bed with flannel sheets, comforter, and a perfect quilt just as the light was changing, I was listening to the rain on our old tin roof and thinking just how perfect that moment was. As soon as I had the thought, our rogue rooster, Sport, started announcing his superiority from the cedar tree outside the window, then the bull that injured his hoof in the line of duty started bellowing from what sounded like kitchen. He wasn't, just in the catch pen behind the house. At that point, I knew I had to gather my reserve and slip my feet from under the warm covers and onto the cold floor of a house heated with wood. I had to stoke the fire. I had to break the ice on the water troughs, bottle feed a calf, release the chickens, and set out hay. I had to move, for day had arrived.

But for that one short moment, life was more perfect than any romantic farm ideal.

Oh Where, Oh Where Has This Blogger Been?

I've been eating good food like this wild caught salmon and couscous with roasted red peppers. I also ate a lot of great tasting but not so good for you food like divinity, fudge, pound cake, coconut cake, and so many other sweet treats that I felt hugely lethargic.

I've been traveling - not far - but far enough to find more rich food at the Indianola Country Club, which is always a treat. My husband especially recommends the banana pudding. I think he ate three, maybe more.

I've been celebrating my husband's birthday at his mother's where we visited the bayou floats in Indianola and in Leland. Though none of my pictures is decent, these floats are quite fun. We always try to see them. The one shown here is a fire truck spraying water on a house that is decked out for Christmas, obviously the effort of the fire department. There is even a Kermit the Frog float in Leland since Jim Henson's Muppet empire began there.

I've been sleeping at Bed on the Bayou in Indianola. I love this wonderful cypress cabin with a view of the bayou. Originally a one room tenant house, this cottage has morphed into a wonderful retreat with a perfectly made bed including embroidered Ho! Ho! Ho! sheets, a wonderful screened porch, and even though I didn't need it, more dessert. I wished for a few more nights here by myself to recuperate from the holidays, but Christmas Eve is not the time to begin recovery.

I've been making handmade consumable gifts for Christmas at Mr. W's family - candles, note cards, gift cards, and honey. I received a handmade diary, a pot of forced narcissus, a fabulous picnic basket, a Lemuria gift card, a bird house, and a wonderful candle holder - a wonderful combination of handmade and thoughtful.



I've been cleaning the messes of Christmas - ornaments broken by the thwack of the yellow dog's tail, water stains on velvet when the same yellow dog is too lazy to go to his bowl, and the usual clutter produced by all the stuff you never knew you needed, though honestly I think our families are moderating and thinking more.


I've been watching closely as the days lengthen. Though the days are longer, we still can't seem to get through with chores before having to pause to see wonderful sunsets. Mississippi winters are wet and cool, muddy, messy, but short.



I've been planning my garden. Seed catalogs, the one "junk" mail that doesn't seem like junk, are arriving daily. I use these shorter days to think about the pantry foods we have enjoyed the most, the ones that won't last until the new crop. I think about the beautiful jars that have gone mostly untouched because no one, including me, seems to enjoy the contents. I get to visualize my garden the way I want it - weedless, perfectly manicured, heavily laden with fruit - rather than the summer reality.

I've been working - W-2s, owners manuals, websites, brochures . . .

I've been procrastinating and I'm sorry!

Cranberry-Pecan Pound Cake

My family's Christmas dinner is tonight. In a couple of hours I will go over to my mother's house and begin to help her with the food. Doing so, is tradition. Right now I'm waiting for the beeps that will let me know that my Cranberry-Pecan Pound Cake is done. This is the third cake of the day. The first and second refused to come out of my highly decorative, fluted, non-stick Bundt pan even though I buttered it liberally. Don't you just love non-stick pans that give you all kinds of false confidence.

No matter, I'm sure this one will be perfect and my children and husband got to snack on the less than perfect first cake and I have another less than perfect cake for the freezer where it will stay until all signs of sugar glut have vanished. Then I will thaw the cake and be a hero.

I love this cake. It is a perfect balance of sweet and tart, creamy and crunchy, and the bright yellow of the cake is offset by the red of the cranberries and the light brown of the crust is a beauty to behold. We have ambrosia every Christmas and this cake, with its hint of orange, creates a lovely backdrop for the once a year food of the Gods. What's more, it reminds me of Ms Gladys who was the librarian when I was in junior high and high school. She made books and the library cool because she talked to us, not as children, but as people. Anyway, in the last years of her life I visited her each Christmas bearing a smaller version of this cake. She loved it and any time I saw her during the year she mentioned the cake. I suppose I should have kept her in constant supply, but I did make sure she had a small cake each Christmas.

Cranberry Pecan Pound Cake

1 cup Pecans -- chopped
1 ½ cups Cranberries -- coarsely chopped
2 cups Sugar
1 cup Butter -- room temperature
5 lg Eggs
¼ cup Sour Cream
¼ cup Orange Juice
2 tsp Vanilla Extract
1 tsp Orange Peel -- grated
1 ¼ cup Flour, All Purpose
1 cup Flour, Cake
½ tsp Salt
Sugar, Powdered

Position rack in center of oven and preheat to 350°F. Butter and flour 2 1/2 quart tube cake pan. Place pecans on cookie sheet and bake until lightly colored and fragrant, about 10 minutes. Cool. Coarsely chop cranberries.

Using electric mixer, beat sugar and butter in large bowl until light and fluffy, scrapping sides of bowl once. Beat in eggs 1 at a time. Beat in sour cream, then juice, vanilla and orange peel. Sift all purpose flour, cake flour and salt together. With mixer on low speed, add dry ingredients to egg mixture and stop when all flour has been added. Mix by hand until just combined. Fold in pecans and cranberries. Pour batter into prepared cake pan. Tap pan on counter to release any air bubbles. Bake until tester inserted in center comes out clean, about 1 hour.

Cool cake in pan 10 minutes. Turn out onto rack and cool completely. Wrap in plastic and refrigerate at least 1 and up to 3 days. Cake may be frozen up to 1 month. Dust cake lightly with powdered sugar before serving.

*****Instead of the orange juice you can use orange liqueur. I have never used cake flour in this recipe, only my standard King Arthur Unbleached. Don't expect a bright yellow color unless you use yard bird eggs.

Tonight, I'll make a private toast to Ms Gladys and all the other librarians who make it cool to read while tasting her favorite cake.