"They Say This Was Just A Hobo"

A couple miles from my house, a dirt road wanders through hundreds of acres of logged timberland.  As far as the eye can see, it is a desolate and barren landscape.  In the distance, the ribbon of dusty road, like a necklace, circles a small hill showing signs of spring green amidst the sea of gray.  Atop the hill is a small, country graveyard with stones both old and new.  

I was struck by the number of markers placed during the 1920's.  Many of them were homemade.  Too many of them were toddlers and babies and I thought of the tales my mother told of growing up during the Great Depression.

I thought of the hardships and the heartache and I wondered what these people would think of us today, with our cars and computers, cell phones and medical services.  I considered that they would have no understanding of our complaints and remembered my mother telling me that her family never thought of themselves as "poor" even when her sisters took turns going to school because they only had one pair of shoes between them.

I found myself admiring that past generation, the people who bore hardship we can only imagine and bore it with dignity. 

Then, I came upon the stone that twisted my thoughts and my heart in ways that I can't explain.

  "They say this was just a hobo".  

A nameless someone.  Like soldiers in unmarked graves.  The anonymity of it all.  To be a son, a brother, perhaps a father and to die unknown, among strangers. 

And then my thoughts took a different path; the strangers had laid him to rest.  They had provided the grave and the casket and they stood at his side, and someone made a stone and hand-chiseled all they knew to say about this man.  

Those who had so little, paid tribute to one who had even less.  

I was touched and compelled to share.

Day 39 - Hospital

Since my doctor was to be on call at the local hospital today, he suggested that I come in through the E.R. for a chest X-Ray and to report on reactions to yesterday's meds.   Yes, the image showed the Pneumonia as well as what the doctor termed as 'remarkable healthy looking lungs'.  Hurray for that!  Some of the meds remained the same, dosage was fine-tuned on others and a couple more were added as well as another shot. 

But the best medicine of the day was the bag of Chips Ahoy chocolate chip cookies that Hubs made a special trip to the store to get for me.  So, with cookies in hand, a warm blanket, milk for dunking and a serious belief in a better tomorrow, I am ready to settle in for the night.

Tomorrow I'll share the reason for counting UP the days of my life.

Day 38 - Hello, Pneumonia

Didn't want it.  Got it anyway.  Much prefer the treatment for Spring Fever.

Sharing some of my "Springtime around the ol' homestead" photos with you.

But this year a Spring Tonic and a good Seed Catalog didn't quite do the trick. 

I prefer Burpee's to breathing treatments and Gurney's to prescription antibiotics... and, of course, the Henry Fields Catalog to the ER. 

So, if there is no post on Day 39, my appologies in advance and I'll be back as soon as I can.

It rained a bit last night and was 80 degrees here today.  So the weatherman is with me in being completely out of sync with mid-January.

May we all be well.

Day 36 - Seed Catalogs

Well, the days are getting longer and the temperature is getting warmer.  Actually 'unseasonable' warm.  It was almost 90 degrees here today.  The sun was shining and it was like the heavens were calling, "Come out.  Come outside to play."  

Unfortunately I'm still too sick to go out to play but I did make it as far as the mailbox in hopes of being blessed with a Seed Catalog or two but no such luck, no Burpee's, or Gurney's, or Henry Field's.  Still, a body can only take so much television so I hunted in all the usual 'stash' places until I found some of last years catalogs.  My "I want" button was immediately pressed and I filled the margins with check marks as if I had good sense...or an unlimited budget. 

I'm certain that the marketing teams who arrange these pages filled with photos of colorful blooms and mouthwatering fruit are aiming their message directly at people like me...stuck indoors, impatient for spring and perfectly willing to spend a few dollars now as some sort of emotionally satisfying proof that spring actually is just around the corner.

Day 14 - A Holiday Reprieve

For the first time, I think since I was born, friends and family have no Christmas card from me and mine.

1947 - age 4

How pathetic is that?  I blew the opportunity to have someone snap a couple of photos during last Saturdays party and we felt crummy on Sunday and beyond.  In desperation, putting vanity aside and facing the fact that we were going downhill fast, I came up with an appropriate picture idea - having a blanket pulled up to our chins, thermometers in our mouths and toasting with cans of Campbell's Chicken Noodle Soup.  But, as fate would have it, we had already consumed the soup and felt too bad to make a run to the store for more.

Now, with Hubs completely down and me trailing close behind and only one mail delivery day left before Christmas, I surrender.  There is a bit of relief in giving up and giving in...a bit of holiday stress removed, an unexpected gift of extra time.  I've spent it remembering...Christmases past and Christmases long, long ago, and occasionally breaking into song:

"...There'll be parties for hosting
Marshmallows for roasting
And caroling out in the snow.
There'll be scary ghost stories
And tales of the glories
Of Christmases long, long ago..."

One of the perks of getting older is the sweetness of remembering.   

Taking a Little Time

Just a quick update on the studio progress.  192 sq ft of "I'm lovin' it" tucked away in my little corner of the yard.  Only 12' x16' but sometimes looking larger than it is...sometimes feeling like a project that will never end.  Maybe that's what I like so much about it.

Spring, in all its glory, seems to be on its own time line this year with things blooming early or late or just out of order.  The Dogwood and Azaleas hardly lasted a week and the Jasmine is not only early, it seems to want to stick around a while.  Wish you could smell it.

 My little "friends" are busy, as usual, looking for last years acorns in all my potted plants and newly spread mulch.

The Cardinals are nesting in the roses outside my bedroom window again this year.  The hatchlings are tiny, well camouflaged and not willing to pose long enough for me to focus through the window screen but their hungry squeaks sure make their presence known.

The cabbages in the big pot are growing faster and larger than the ones planted in the garden.  Go figure.

And the tomatoes, scattered in pots among the flower beds, are doing their thing.
As for me and mine, life is spinning in all directions at once.
There is no such thing as enough time once you pass 60.

March is just a blur

March rolled in with the fog and I've been in one ever since. No idea where the month went. No idea what happened to spring. Just as the Dogwoods began to bloom, they were gone to leaf. The Azaleas blossoms only lasted a week and I almost missed the Wisteria completely.

It's been unseasonably warm and it seems that the plants just don't know what to make of it. I've kept a spring journal for the past nine years trying to get a grip on what blooms first and what takes its time here in my part of Florida. Only the Hickory trees are following form this year, continuing to be the last to bud and even they will be a month early.

As everything around me seems to be rushing ahead of time, I seem to have been backing up. Tried all month to coordinate my schedule with that of my husband and with the weather so we could finish the windows for the studio but never connected on a single day. The car had a problem. The pool pump went out. And, the time I had designated for filing taxes was redirected toward a week long family illness.

As everything outdoors rushes into June before April has even arrived, I'm still stuck in February, with winter clothes still in the closet and all this indoor stuff demanding to be done. So, I think I'll put my fingers in my ears, say "la-la-la" to it all and go shopping for flowers...wonder if I can find a short sleeved shirt.

January Spring ????

Tank top or long johns? It's hard to figure these days. Sunny and bright. Pouring down rain. Oops, cold front moving in! That's a typical winter here in the northernmost part of the Florida panhandle but it usually isn't quite this confusing in January. Fighting a cold that won't go away and the ravages of the aging process, I was pretty well down in the dumps this morning when I noticed something unusual in the the shrubs across the lawn. Ha! One of my Azaleas is blooming. And that's not all. I noticed that the dogwood buds have set, the Spirea is in new leaf... and little flowers are popping out all over. My Meyer Lemon tree is going absolutely crazy with blooms. And, oh, did I mention that it will be in the 20's at night, day after tomorrow. Go figure. Where's the box of tissue?

Studio Update - December

I thought the onset of Florida winter, with its intermittent rain and cold spells, and the inevitable busyness of Thanksgiving and Christmas would bring progress on the little studio to a halt but I overlooked the tenacity of my son and his wife. A little at a time, not every day or even every week, but with a flurry of activity here and another there, they are still bringing my dream to life. There is now a step, a porch and a porch roof and as they add sheets of tin to the the steep pitch, my husband and I work slowly to fit and install the antique door and windows.

With money and time in short supply, this project would never have gotten off the ground had it not been for my son. "It won't be quick," he said, "but it's not impossible."

There are philosophical lessons in his words. Lessons that I learned from my father and obviously passed along. One step at a time. Never give up. Never lose faith. Pray as you go and don't forget to be thankful...I am.

Sweat, Sacrifice and Love

The tiny studio that made its way from my dreams to a drawing pad sometime last winter, captured the imagination and heart of my son, Trace. With spring came his determination that the studio would become a reality and in the glow of autumn color it is. In early spring came a Saturday surprise of cinder blocks and 4x4s. I might have been able to stop right there. Just seeing the footprint in place seemed to satisfy something in me. But the dead tree that needed to be removed spurred a level of activity and added a sense of excitement to the project as if it were actually leading to something real.

This morning, as Trace and my daughter-in-law, Susan, set about another day of labor on my behalf, I was, quite simply, overwhelmed.

Every step of construction had seemed to be a kind of completion in and of itself, the day the floor was set, the day the walls were framed, the day the exterior sheeting was finished. They were great moments and there was great satisfaction. And between each step, there were long periods when life would return to normal and the little building would sit quietly and wait.

But this week, when the gable ends went into place with my crazy oval window cutout, the ridge timber set and the rafters perfectly cut and spaced, a different kind of excitement took place. There was celebration of accomplishment with great smiles and "job well done"s. But there was to be no familiar pause between stages. With the oncoming rain, here was suddenly a rush to dry it in and the hurry felt uncomfortable.

The work on the roof was genuinely difficult. It began each day at first light and continued long past dark and something in me ached for the labor that was being done on my behalf and without my help. I've spent all evening thinking about this; what was the source of my ache, my discomfort? And, as I've pondered the matter, I've continued to see my son's face as he kissed me goodbye this evening...exhausted, sweaty and smiling.

Just a few minutes ago it came to me.
What a silly thing. How seriously we take our roles in life. How many years do we labor for our children? How many sleepless nights do we spend as they step awkwardly toward adulthood? Somehow, the birth of our children prepares us for those things. But what in life prepares us to relinquish that role? At what moment do we recognize that it is they who will labor for us and they who will spend sleepless nights as we step awkwardly toward old age? My moment was today.

RAIN - Some is Better than None

What a wonderful surprise to seek out a suspicious noise and find it to be the sound of windblown rain tapping at the screen door.

It wasn't a lot of rain (barely a quarter inch) but it was enough to bring hope, and for the next two days, I felt my spirits rise with each passing cloud.

On day three, the rain came again leaving a full inch behind. So that's an inch and a quarter just in the last week. It's a long, long way from ending our drought and even a greater distance to recovery. We remain in Water Conservation Mode for now but, as I said, it does hold hope. Perhaps our weather patterns are changing. Perhaps my little paradise will flourish again, if only for a short while, before winter sets in.

Water Conservation During Drought

A year ago, about this time, my Cypress pond looked like this. My flowers were in bloom and the garden was off to a good start. Not so this year.

Today the herons moved in to feed on what is left of the fish
in what is left of the pond.

In the last 90 days, we have had less than a collective total of 3/4 of an inch of rain. For the last 30 days, each afternoon weather report has offered the hope of a 75%+ chance of afternoon thunderstorms. And, it has stormed. We see the lightning and hear the distant thunder and if we get in the car and drive for 15 minutes in any direction, we are likely to get wet. But my neighborhood seems to exist under an giant, unseen umbrella and we passed desperate two months ago. First, the garden slowed down, stressed by the temperatures hovering around 100 degrees day after day. My watering of containers changed from once to twice daily and still the leaves would wilt. When the shrubs around the house began to show signs of stress, I set out the sprinklers, along with shallow containers to measure water amounts, moving to another location when a 2" soaking had been achieved. I realized I was fighting a losing battle when the brown grass began to turn black as the roots actually deteriorated and several shrubs, some distance from the house, actually died. Now my smaller trees, like the dogwood, look as if they are in trouble.

---These have both died---
Last week I noticed a change in my well water. The iron content is greater and there are tannins, all signs that the well water level is dropping. So, conservation is now a necessity. Here are the things we're doing to reduce our water usage:

• Brushing teeth with the water turned off.
• Placing a 1/2 gallon jug of water in the toilet tank to reduce the amount of "flush water".
• Reducing shower time and frequency by half.
• Hanging bath towels to dry and sanitize in the sun after showering to launder less often.
• Combining darks & lights into a single load of laundry.
• Eliminating use of the dishwasher.
• Keeping a dishpan of soapy water in the kitchen sink for quick hand washing.
• Watering container vegetables using a watering can instead of the garden hose.
• Cooling water used for cooking pasta & vegetables for use on garden containers.
  
• Accepting the fact that some plantings will be lost.

For us, the drought is a matter of inconvenience. For the area farmers, it's a tragedy. Corn crops are ruined. Cotton did not even come up. The loss of summer grasses and winter hay endanger livestock and much of the livestock is having to be sold for lack of water.
These are difficult times but we will all get through them. Somehow, we always do. And I've noticed that, whether we were inclined to roll up our sleeves or get down on our knees, when we look back on hard times, we seem to have gained strength or pride or self-confidence in having come through them.
IF YOU HAVE IDEAS FOR WATER CONSERVATION OR DEALING WITH DROUGHT, PLEASE SHARE THEM BY LEAVING A COMMENT.

15 Real Ways to Beat the Heat

After a week of triple digit temps here in June of 2011, I've decided to repost this from August of 2010: Toward the end of winter I long desperately for summer, for flowers and gardening, swimming and picnics and generally enjoying being outdoors in shorts and sunshine. Spring tiptoes in like the answer to a prayer and all is wonderful in my world. Unfortunately spring turns into summer and each year it comes as a surprise that a hot summer can be as difficult as a hard winter. In the sweltering heat and humidity of Florida in late July and August, I find myself wishing for winter again. Perhaps it is God's way of having us always look forward to something.

Over a lifetime, I've put together a mental list of ways to keep my cool. This year, I wrote it all down and did some research to make sure my inclinations were backed by science.
Here's the list:

1. Avoid make-up whenever possible. Skin needs to breathe. Pores have a purpose and clogging them with make-up is like wearing a blanket on your face.
2. Keep your hair off the back of your neck. The nape of the neck is very sensitive to touch and interprets the smallest breeze as a wash of cooling air. Also, hair gathered loosely in a clip allows for more air circulation along your scalp than when it is pulled tightly in a pony tail.
3. Cool pulse points, especially at the inner wrists, inside the elbows and behind the knees. Pulse points are places where blood runs just below the surface of the skin. Cooling the blood, cools the body. This can be done with cool running water, a damp cloth or an ice cube wrapped in a cloth.
4. Keep a bottle of Witch Hazel and a container of cotton balls in the refrigerator. A cotton ball wet with Witch Hazel cools pulse points, both when applied and as it evaporates and it is great for removing make-up and removing the oils that accumulate on the face when we're over heated.
5. Drink water. Stay well hydrated. This is always good advise but it is especially important in the heat as the natural cooling processes of the body can deplete the body's reserves and cause dehydration stressing the body's organs. Avoid caffeine and alcohol because they increase dehydration.
6. Adjust the Air Conditioner to a higher temperature and use fans to move the air. The moving air will feel just as cool while the higher artificial temperature reduces the difference between the air indoors and outdoors.
7. Wear loose fitting clothing. Air circulation is always key to keeping cool.
8. Wear natural fabrics - cotton or linen.
9. Avoid use of fabric softeners on clothing during hot weather months. Fabric softeners coat the fabric fibers reducing or even eliminating their absorbency. Even our wonderfully soft and fluffy towels will not remove water from skin nearly as well as those rinsed with plain water.
10. Avoid large meals heavy with protein and fat. They put more stress on the digestive system and as it works harder, it produces internal heat. Smaller, more frequent, lighter meals will actually help beat the heat.
11. Eat Jalapenos - or other hot peppers. This might sound strange but it's true. Check it out HERE.
12. Add lemon juice to your water - eat alkalinizing foods. Maintaining a proper bodily pH balance is important to proper system function, one of which is cooling the body. Find food lists HERE.
13. Get your laptop off your lap. You may as well be sitting on a heating pad.
14. Don't neglect your feet. The inner arches of your feet are also pulse points and need air movement to keep cool. Set your feet free. Sandals are not just for fashion they are practical.
15. Sleep with your feet out of the covers. Again, it's a lot about air.

This is my personal list. There are many others that include things like standing in a bucket of ice or lying in a bathtub of cool water. You bet. They work. But I've tried to share the things that I do on a daily basis that are practical and achievable whether you stay at home or work in an office or in the field. Let me know how they work for you by leaving comments (below).

Memorial Day - 2011

There will be no Memorial Day family bar-b-que at my house this year. I won't even make it to the service at the war memorial. I am under the weather and most of my children are far away. So, this year, instead of being busy with preparations and planning a moment of reflection, I find myself just remembering... remembering "thank you"s to the Military at airports, the previously unknown Sailors we'd invite to share Thanksgiving dinner, the flag I placed at my father's grave and the flag folded in silence and given to my niece at the funeral of my little brother. Memorial Day is confusing to me. In part, I am strengthened, standing tall and proud, uplifted by the Lee Greenwood song "I'm Proud to be an American - where at least I know I'm free..." The other part of me is reduced to tears as the haunting notes of "Taps" sounding from a solitary bugle replay in my mind. I think of my brother and father and husband and of the boys in my high school classes who traded youth for a uniform and I want to say "thank you" but some are no longer here. Then I notice the red, white and blue of our flag against our clear Florida sky and I know that as long as that flag flies, as long as there are those of us who truly cherish our liberty, our fallen are never forgotten. Every Memorial Day, I find myself balancing on this same emotional see-saw, and every Memorial Day, I eventually recover my equilibrium. What I conclude is this: that Memorial Day actually is a two-sided coin: the heartbreaking sadness of sacrifice and the abundant blessing of the liberty it has secured. THANK A SERVICE MEMBER AND FLY THE FLAG PROUDLY
(All photographs on this blog are protected under Copyright)
I give permission to download and use any of my American Flag photographs.
Click HERE to access the collection.

Rethinking the Garden with the Budget in Mind

With the downward spiral of the economy and food and gas prices racing to all time highs, even some of my most thrifty concepts are being fine tuned. One of those is my garden. Usually filled with flowers and crops that I only "hope" won't fail; this year, I'm more serious about the decisions being made. For instance, I've always grown jalapenos even though those locally grown are available at the store for a fraction of the cost. This year, I will buy them instead. The same situation exists with tomatoes. In my area, they require a great deal of care, constant struggle against leaf devouring grasshoppers, careful attention to moisture control and protection from late summer's extreme heat. When I discovered a half bushel at the Farmer's Market for $10, I couldn't justify my efforts, much less my potential failures. I began to consider the things we eat on a regular basis...not only the fresh produce but the canned and frozen vegetables as well. I took a look in my pantry, revisited some old shopping lists and gave thought to our ordinary weekly menus.

• I cannot grow corn in a pot on the deck.
• 35 heads of lettuce, all maturing at the same time, cannot be consumed quickly enough or canned or dehydrated or frozen.
• Dried beans are far too inexpensive to take up valuable (and limited) space in the garden.
• There is too much clay in my soil for potatoes.

So what are my options? Red Bell Peppers are so expensive at the store these days that I removed them from my shopping lists altogether. However, I can grow them as easily as I've grown Jalapenos in the past. Green Bell Peppers have risen in price a bit but continue to be purchased. They, too, can easily be grown in containers and freeze fairly well. Organic carrots are also pricey but easy to grow. Broccoli, cauliflower and assorted greens grow well here as a fall crop, when overnight temperatures begin to cool. I grew them in Alaska but never even thought of them here. Cilantro is also something I buy regularly. A single packet of seeds will meet my summer needs and the excess can be dried for winter use.

In addition to reconsidering the things I will grow, I've given a great deal of thought to the occasional bargains that come our way. Georgia peaches are sold in season here, at roadside stands and can be bought in bulk and canned for much less than frozen slices or cans at the store. There is absolutely nothing to canning them, freezing them or even putting up spiced peaches for the holidays. When bananas go on sale, they are natural candidates for the dehydrator. And, speaking of dehydrating things, a daughter has had success dehydrating tomatoes and canning them in oil for "sun dried" tomatoes at a fraction of the cost. So, these are the things that accompany my transition into the sunny season. As I put things together, work them out and determine if we are actually able to eat better for less, I will let you know.

Springtime Calls for Aprons

Spring makes me smile. Whether this time of year has us looking forward to spring blossoms or spring cleaning or getting a vegetable garden started with thoughts of fresh vegetables on the table or jars of fresh-canned goodness growing in numbers on our pantry shelves, spring seems to bring us home to a simpler time and to our roots. And, what takes us back to simpler times faster than putting on an apron. I remember my mother's Hostess Aprons and my grandmother's kitchen apron. I have an apron for painting and have made my children and grandchildren Crayon aprons. There's something about being 'dressed for the occasion' even if the occasion is getting down on hands and knees and dirty in the soil of a garden. Aprons also make great, unique gifts - tucked in a tote of bar-b-q utensils or a housewarming bucket of cleaning supplies. One of my favorite websites is Amelia's Aprons, featuring handmade creations from the Edwardian style to the little pocketed garden apron I've shown here. Take a look. You just might find something to make you smile, too.

Rainbow on the Water

Have you noticed that life's greatest gifts are most often free? I can't begin to tell you what a miraculous sight this was to me this morning. For years my husband and visitors have spoken, on occasion. of the rainbow on the surface of our cypress pond and try as I would, I could never see it.

In the still of a Spring morning, the surface of the pond is often dusted with a fine layer of pollen. Until today, it has only made me think of the dreaded allergy season and I have anxiously waited for the slightest breeze to clear the surface and return the mesmerizing reflections that I love so much.

I don't know how or why it is that I actually saw the colors this morning because I'm colorblind and see almost no colors at all. But this morning, for a few minutes, I received one of those incredible free gifts. From the palest lime green, to a soft aqua, to a beautiful baby blue, blending into a lovely, light lavender, then into a perfect pink, and to peach and finally to a sunny yellow in the distance: I saw the colors, each and every one of them. Now, I know how it is that others have found the dusty pond so beautiful. I ran for the camera and couldn't wait to share the pictures...and I couldn't wait to share my excitement. I'm sure that science would attribute my momentary, morning vision to a particular angle or intensity of the sun or refraction or something like that. But for me it was a miracle moment and it filled my entire day with all the hope and promise that comes with a rainbow...my very first rainbow on the water.