living my life this way now

I enjoy solitude. It's probably selfish, but why bother about it. Life is much too important, as Oscar Wilde said, to be taken seriously. I feel so sorry for those mothers who are devastated by loneliness when their children fly the coop and don't want to live at home anymore. They feel lost, but look what exciting things can be done. Life isn't long enough to do all you could accomplish. And what a privilege to be alive. In spite of all the pollutions and horrors, how beautiful this world is. Supposing you only saw the stars once every year. Think what you would think. The wonder of it!”

~unknown

Sunrise

I sit in the green andiron back chair while still in my robe,  

a mug of coffee in hand savoring a new morning.

A morning's quiet time enjoyed on the front porch.

Still in the garden everyday.

prudent preparation

"It has occurred to me that I am only doing what every housewife did as a matter of course only a generation or two ago. She always preserved food for the coming year as it came into season and bulk-purchased staples such as sugar and vinegar. Our grandmothers did this not because they were paranoid, isolated survivalists, but rather because they had learned from experience that blizzards, crop failures, and epidemics happened. The prudent, prepared household prevailed. Others did not.

As the winter storms howl outside my window and the political, economic, and ecological news goes from bad to worse, I sleep well, knowing I can care for my family during times of plenty and times of want."

~ Just in Case: How to Be Self-Sufficient When the Unexpected Happens

by Kathy Harrison

figs

                                              If I had words to make a day for you, 
                                   I'd sing you a morning golden & true 
                                   I would make this day last for all time 
                                   then fill the night deep in moonshine 

                                    If I had words to make a day for you, 
                                    I'd give you a morning golden & true 
                                    I would make this day last for all time... 
                                    then fill the night deep in moonshine 

It was as if I had written a simple letter with one request, placed a stamp in the right hand corner and dropped it in the mail. 

"Please send a perfect day"

And today the letter was answered.  As I opened the front door and slipped out onto the porch I could not but help sighing with contented happiness. The hot temperatures and humidity of the past week had vanished and instead we had a soothing welcomed coolness. My morning work was already determined, but now I could open the windows and let the fresh air and light breeze fill my kitchen space. 

I have mentioned in a past post a brief intro to my personal fig story.

And I'm still  hoping one day to have a fruit producing fig tree as we have now planted one beside the back screened porch. I have visions of it giving shade to that sunny corner of the porch when it matures. I also have hopes of plenteous figs. It produced two figs this year, since it is yet young I still maintain  reasonable expectations of more fruitfulness in the summers to come.

Yesterday my husband stopped by a friend's house who has three large fig trees loaded with fruit and he was more than happy to share several containers of fresh figs with us.

 My morning's work involved making a batch of fig newtons. As a child I did not like fig newtons, that super sticky sweet paste in a dry crumbly cookie was not desirable to my taste whatsoever. But several years ago wanting to give them another chance, I tried a gourmet fig newton and  immediately I knew there was so much more to a good fig newton than those cookies I remembered from my childhood. Since I could not find a  recipe in any of my cookbooks to the internet I went. By reading what several bakers had done, I somewhat pulled together my own version of several recipes. My jam was not sweet, I added fresh lemon juice, a small amount of brown sugar, a pinch of salt and some water which was cooked  down to a jam consistency. Meanwhile I whipped up the dough. The methods of making the fig newtons varied considerably, I went for what seemed was the easiest method for me, but it still turned out to be a bit tricky. The tricky part was getting the second layer onto the cookie.

 Yet, I could hardly wait for them to cool so I could cut them into squares and give them a proper tasting.  Oh my, how delicious! They certainly are not the prettiest bar, but they are downright bona fide delicious! 

                                           " The fig tree has ripened its figs

                            And the vines in blossom have given forth their fragrances."

                                                      Song of Solomon 2:13

green beans to pickle

  Many hours have been gladly spent picking, snapping, cooking and canning green beans this summer, truly just for the past six weeks we have harvested many pickings of this healthy vegetable from our garden. I decided it was high time I preserved a batch of pickled beans to add to my larder.  Here is a recipe that is close to the one I will be using, though I am not calling mine dilly beans because the dill has become rather sparse in my garden, but I will include garlic, mustard seeds, peppercorns and a cayenne pepper.

Ever time I speak to my mother-in-law these days the conversation always includes a chat concerning our garden and she never fails to bring up to me those days of the past when I would pickle green beans. Those plenitudinous years of  green bean production enabled my pantry to be stocked full with all the green beans we would need through the winter months. So with a tribute to this dear sweet lady I am pickling a batch of green beans with a heart of fun and thanksgiving.

But first I must make a run to the store because I just noticed that I do not have enough canning jars! 

 What are you preserving these days?

turning ninety with grace

 My father's brother turned ninety last week and his family rightfully honored him with a birthday party. Of course, we wanted to go to be a part of joyfully celebrating his life; I could not imagine not doing so even with the three hour drive on a Sunday afternoon.

At my brother's funeral several weeks ago I gasped when I saw my uncle because it was like I was seeing my paternal grandfather once again. (He died in 1991 at age 91).  How I love family resemblances. My Uncle Gene is sharp and clear-minded as that family line tends to be as they age. When I mentioned to him how much he looked like Granddaddy, he with his soft -spoken voice said, "I know, sometimes I look in the mirror and I can see him too."

photos 2023...words 1776

"We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, 

that among these are life,

liberty, 

and the pursuit of happiness..."

"Appealing to the Supreme Judge of the world for the rectitude of our intentions...."

"With a firm reliance on the protection of Divine Providence..."

The Declaration of Independence

green bean canning

 As you can tell from my latest posts gardening occupies much of my time. I do receive satisfying joy being and working in my gardens.  Organic vegetable gardening has been our goal for some time and we are working very hard to make it happen, but we realize at the beginning of the process it does not always produce the prolific abundance we remembered our gardens of past years producing (this was over twenty years ago). It is a definite challenge but an equally definite interest to make our soil fertile  while  maintaining pest control without the use of chemicals. 

Today was not my first green bean picking, but it was the first time I had enough to preserve with canning.

Today hollered summer with the heat and humidity, therefore, keeping hydrated was important as I picked my beans. I carried along a jar of iced water with a spurt of lemon balm tincture which refreshed nicely.

This winter when pressure canning was still a dream, I ordered a new pressure canner since mine was rather old and I felt it needed some attention and might not be as safe as I would prefer. I bought mine here, it holds four quarts at a time which is perfect for my canning needs.

I have never owned or used a canner like this one one and it appeared a bit intimidating at first with the screw lock knobs, but as far as the  steam and weight it works just like my other canner.

lavender joy

The bumble bees

love my lavender

They’re on it all the time

Drinking up the pollen

when the weather is sublime.

It felt as if I was a thief of sorts, cutting the lavender stems as I was one morning. The bees swayed and dipped on the profusely blooming lavender. If I were a bee I would most certainly choose the nectar of lavender too as I swayed and dipped drinking lavender juice. This year has been a joy to this particular lady gardener as I had not been able to find a happy lavender spot for over 20 years until now. That is a long time to wait to have a happy lavender growing garden. 

Lavender requires certain things to make it flourish. Well-drained soil, even rocky, and limestone enriched soil also helps lavender to grow strong.

 During the warm afternoons we are sipping... what am I saying?... drinking heartily, lavender lemonade tea. First, you make a lavender syrup by taking 1 cup of water and 1 cup of sugar. Bring this to boil adding 1 cup lavender blooms. As soon as it boils put a lid on your pan and allow to steep for about 10 minutes or so, strain all lavender from your syrup. Add this to freshly brewed black tea and lemonade to taste.

The lavender syrup should be stored in the refrigerator.

• It always seems to me as if the lavender was a little woman in a green dress, with a lavender bonnet and a white kerchief. She’s one of those strong, sweet, wholesome people, who always rest you, and her sweetness lingers long after she goes away. ― Myrtle Reed

march & april & may

 Due to the course of things and the months squeezing in terribly wonderful ways, my own remedy is to create one blog post to embrace the months of March, April and May. Here is my attempt at the highlights keeping in mind I do this as a means for my own form of posterity. And yes, I am posting this the last week of June, of course, though it was began in April!

MARCH

During one of Ivy's spring break days we spent a great deal of time in the woods and then came back to a snack of popcorn, cheese, and warm tea enjoyed outside. She loved borrowing my Canon Rebel camera to take pictures of me😊.

A small gathering of young ladies and mothers for an overnighter beginning with pizza on Friday and ending on Saturday afternoon with a high tea.

Some days in March were unbelievable cold, others were unbelievably warm. On those days of warm temperatures I could not resist taking a little time for tea and stitching on the quilt I began this winter. It is sewn using the fabric of my fathers' pajamas, the ones I inherited when he died in February 2011. During the move I found a bag of his pjs that I intended for creating a lap quilt. This was the winter to make it. I did the piecing on the sewing machine, but the true delight was in the hand stitching on cold winter evenings by the fire.

APRIL

                               Resurrection Sunday gathering

Drying dandelion blossoms for making salve and continuing with  a calendar of firsts journal.

 Embellishing with cast-on flowers and an initial for one of Violet's summer dresses.

And a pair of boots to keep the spring mud off my feet!

Practicality is the key.

MAY

A trip to Louisville to gather Charlotte and her things for coming home during the summer months. This was taken on the walking bridge between Kentucky and Indiana.

A decided place composed in the front lawn to plant a variety of zinnias, calendulas, and sunflowers one bright morning in order that I may enjoy composed moments when they bloom.

An evening watching Breanna dance...oh, how I loved those times of my life with my own children performing, and now I am watching my granddaughter's performance.

Last but not least, on the 29th Charlotte entered into the second decade of her life. Twenty candles were lit with family and friends gathered to celebrate. When she was born I remember thinking how old I would be when she turned twenty. She is twenty...but surely I am not that old!

the garlic harvest

 I sat outside on a little cane -seated blue chair at the edge of the patio preparing my cured garlic for storage. It was early enough in the morning not so hot, a gentle breeze whispering and  the sound of the farmer's tractor cutting his hay field could be heard. A cutting board sat on my lap, a pair of scissors in my hand and a rag to wipe off any excess dirt before laying the bulbs in the basket at my feet, some of which will be placed within a mesh bag and hung in the pantry for future use.

Back late last summer I ordered my garlic from Mad River Garlic Growers in Ohio, deciding on the Italian Purple and Doghouse varieties. I'm now dreaming of the next growing season  and am tentatively deciding on growing some other varieties.  This was a good company, they provided helpful growing tips and mailed the garlic bulbs at the correct planting time within your region.

These particular photos were taken about three weeks ago when I harvesting my garlic and hung it in the shed to cure.

"There is no such thing as a little garlic." 

                                                                             ~Arthur Baer

memories of her

I debated writing this post on Shadow Pearls instead of here since it certainly would be fitting as I recorded those days on that blog when I had full care of her. Those days of grace, those days of hard places, those days that while they were lingeringly long, yet were not long enough.

First thing this morning I sat down with my coffee and wrote the date and the memory of her opened a door wide, it was just as if I had stepped into the "land of OZ". It bursted of color that only a mother can give, her voice was clearly spoken in my ear, and I saw myself as one looking at a photograph book going back years from my childhood right up to that time thirteen years ago. Truthfully, it then occurred to me why she had been so prevalent in my thoughts all week.

     But that tug of missing her grabbed deep too. There is no wonder that I was able to convince my husband to take a drive to a local nursery where the purchase of a lilac bush made the most sense. She died during the days of blooming lilacs so in my way of thinking I should have a blooming lilac in my yard. Isn't it beautiful?

It will be a long time before I am able to forget my mother as she is this summer, and remember her as she used to be.

The Summer of the Great-Grandmother

Madeleine L'Engle