Garden Volunteers Part II

What's a garden volunteer? It's a plant that seeds voluntarily throughout the garden. In the past, I've written about the volunteers in the flower garden. This morning Shadow and I tromped through the soaking wet flower garden taking stock of all the volunteers this year.

First, the coreopsis tincturia is back...with a vengeance. Why is it that it's growing in the flower garden in spots I don't want it, but the verge along the driveway where I DO want it naturalize it refuses to grow? I gave some to my neighbors this year. I hope they're still talking to me next spring after it takes over their flower beds.

The Buddleia (butterfly bush) has been a wonderful surprise. We purchased two white ones from Lowe's, and a purple one came with the Spring Hill Gardens Butterfly Gardening Kit that I bought. The purple one has gleefully spread seeds everywhere. I have baby butterfly bushes growing up through pure sand on the pathway in spots we are working on, in ground like cement in other spots on the pathways, and throughout the flower beds. I've kept a bunch, given some away, and have more for the taking (if you live close by! come with pails and shovels). We transplanted several along the edge of the forest. They don't look very happy, but the one I transplanted towards the front of the flower beds, near the trellis, also looked dead after I moved it. Butterfly bushes seem to have a very long tap root, and I'm assuming that they go into shock when you dig them up...but they do recover. The transplanted on is thriving now.

The marigolds self-seeded all along the pathway, and I scattered the rest. I have thickets of marigolds. I love them. They are so wonderful and will bloom here until November or a very hard frost, and I rarely see insect damage on them. Plus they act like natural bug repellents!


I had cosmos self-seed last year too. I grew a patch from a seed packet I bought at the dime store; it tipped over in a heavy rain, ripped up by the roots. I simply pulled it out and tossed the spent stalks into the woods. To my surprise, a little patch rose up in the area where the stalks had tipped over. I left it alone, and what do you know? Giant patch of cosmos now...and yesterday, it tipped over in the rainstorm. I wonder if this is how cosmos self seeds? Just kidding. It doesn't need to wait for a rain storm!

Zinnias self seeded a bit, but the nicest surprise was Vince major...Hubby bought me a six pack of Vinca major from Lowe's last year, thinking it was the purple Vinca I wanted for a little shady spot. I planted it in the flower garden and thought nothing more about it. Now it's scattered itself all about the flower garden. And while the bright pinks clash horribly with the orange and yellow marigolds, I can't help but marvel at its tenacity.




What's growing in your garden these days? Other than weeds, of course, which I have...in abundance.

May your Sunday be filled with joy!

Autumn Reached for Her Golden Crown

Fall snuck in through the metaphorical back door this week. Yes, the calendar day has passed; the autumnal equinox is here.


My Catholic buddies remind me that the feast of St. Therese of Lisieux, our parish patroness, is here. She's a saint who has been dear to me my whole life, well before I moved into a parish bearing her name, and I always read "The Story of a Soul", her autobiography, around the time of her feast each year. The lady pictured here is St. Therese. She is always shown holding roses or surrounded by roses (bit of trivia for my non Catholic buddies reading this). October is full of my favorite saints and remembrances; Guardian Angels (October 2) and don't forget St. Francis of Assisi (Pierre and Shadow remind me to say prayers on their behalf).

October holds both my parents' birthdays, my buddy Cathy's birthday, and my dad's death day. Shadow's birthday falls in October too, and it's the anniversary of our moving day into Seven Oaks Farm.

Autumn crept in sometime last night. I spotted her by the sudden change in leaf color - overnight, I am now spotting reds and golden colors peeking through the trees. The tops of the trees visible behind our house near the creek are changing too, from the dark emerald of late summer into a mellow golden-tinged green that will soon burst forth in a riot of colors.

Patty dropped off about 10 pounds or more of pears from her orchard, the thick-skinned, super sweet giants with knotty bits all over their forms and leaves and stems still stuck to them. I can't wait to peel them and let the juice dribble down my chin, or make the fall pear galette, a sort of cross between a French pastry and pie, that Hubby loves with vanilla ice cream and cinnamon sprinkled on top.

Next weekend is the town's Harvest Festival, a gathering we've grown to appreciate and enjoy. It's a huge yard sale and country auction rolled into one, with the center of rural social life - the fire house - open for country cooked foods served all day. Last year someone cleaned out all her cat memorabilia so from her house to mine came all sorts of kitty themed home decor. I'm a sucker for garage sales.

The vegetable garden is winding down, and I've only picked a handful of tomatoes this week compared to the giant bowls filled with tomatoes a month ago.. The peppers are giving me their last gasp. The carrots are in, and what beets and turnips are left in the ground will be composted as I think they're a woody, nasty mess now. The watermelon patch is sadly overgrown with weeds, but the strawberries continue to produce miniscule berries...and hordes of stinging yellow jackets. I know better now than to be tempted by a berry.


The flower garden is a riotous mess of marigolds now and I have been digging up butterfly bushes and moving them to new homes. And while I did see at least several different large, colorful butterflies on the bushes, they are moving more slowly...and we are finding some faded on the grass as autumn snuck by us all, taking up residence in the country.




'll leave you with a quote from one of my favorite singers, Nick Drake -

"Summer's gone and the heat died down,
And Autumn reached for her golden crown..."

Black Cats are Good Luck

Black cats are the very best of luck. How do I know? Mine brought me the best of luck for over 18 years, and to this day, continues to bring me luck!

I adopted Baloo - or rather, she adopted me - on February 22, 1991. It was a few months after my mom died. I was in turmoil. I didn't know how to have a civil conversation with my dad after all those years. I didn't know how to live without constant tension and stress.

Baloo brought joy into our lives in so many ways. Cats are always funny, but she had certain oddities that to this day still make me smile.

I remember one night when I had my friends from Yellow Book over. I worked as a copywriter there throughout college and for several years afterward, one of the happiest times in my life. I made lasagna and we sat around and played Trivial Pursuit. Baloo came over to inspect the board game, them delicately tip-toed around the edge, never disturbing a single game piece.

She loved to nestle among books. Her favorite spot was her cubby. This is a photo of Baloo on the bookshelf, in her cubby.

She had a penchant for shredding the works of Mark Twain. We roared with laughter one day when we read that Twain loved cats. He named one Satan!

Over the years, she lived in three houses and moved several times. She never learned to co-exist with our first dog, Mr. Foxhound, despite his constant efforts to be her best friend. When we moved to Virginia, she was a grand dame, 18 years young. She howled all the way from Long Island to the first rest stop in New Jersey. John pulled over and turned to me, exasperated. "I cannot drive all the way to Virginia with that howl coming from the back seat. Let the cat out."

And so the great queen that she was rode from New Jersey to Virginia on top of a massive pile of pillows and blankets in the back seat of our sedan, looking disdainfully down at her cat carrier. Pierre on the other hand LOVES the cat carrier...he likes to sit in it if I leave the door open.

She's now joined the ranks of great immortal pets people write about.

Why am I writing about her today?

Because the essay that I wrote, "Blessed are the Merciful", detailing how Baloo changed my relationship with my dad and helped me on the day Dad died, is now in print. She brought good luck to me throughout my life. Even in death, she brought me luck!

It's in the anthology, "Chicken Soup for the Cat Lovers Soul - What I Learned from My Cat."

Thank you to Donna Sundblad, my editor at LovetoKnow, for posting the original call to submissions on her writing blog...if I hadn't seen that, I would never have written the essay nor submitted it.

Most of all, thanks to my hubby for giving me the courage to write again and to write this particular part of my life in an honest and truthful way.

Click the link below for more information or to order the book...it's a nice book with lots more than my little essay in it.

Pickled Peppers

I did it! I canned my first two jars this weekend. I made Pickled Peppers from a recipe book called Preserving the Harvest. The recipes in this book are super-easy (just a few ingredients) and each recipes makes only small batches. This was perfect for my test run.

I sterilized all the equipment, cut up the wonderful organic garden peppers, prepared the vinegar pickling broth, and then hot-water bath canned two pints. I did not use Hubby's grandma's canning pot - the pot is so huge, and I wanted to put up only the two pints, so I used my regular deep spaghetti pot. I put the little metal poached egg cups on the bottom of the pot and rested the poaching rack on it, then put the jars on the rack. It worked like a charm. It left the requisite inch or more of water at the bottom and plenty of boiling water around the jars.

The best moment was when I lifted out the jars and put them on the wooden board to cool. I heard the lovely PING as the jars sealed! I started jumping up and down. I shouted "I did it!" Hubby was enthroned on his recliner in the living room watching the endless fall football games. (I confess, I usually watch them too - I love football). He shouted, "What?" I shouted back "I pickled peppers?" Then it got very silly. "What? You picked a peck of pickled peppers?" And so on. I had to stop the nonsense by bringing him a plate of fresh oatmeal raisin cookies so he wouldn't talk with his mouth full.

Normally when either of us undertakes a new project, Hubby and I work as a team. When we bought the riding mower/tractor, we read the instruction manual together and took turns driving around the farm on it to get the hang of it. When I used the cleaning feature on the professional oven for the first time, Hubby read the instructions and helped me get it right.

But this time I had to do it alone to get over my nerves. All those fears of poisoning my family or blowing up the house with an exploding Ball jar had to be dealt with.

I baked a batch of oatmeal raisin cookies for the fellas, and then suddenly I found myself coring and seeding the big bowl of peppers I'd picked...and the book was there....and I had all the ingredients...and before I knew it, I had canned my first little batch of pickled peppers.

I was surprised by how much the liquid has settled - it looks like it went down another half inch or quarter of an inch, leaving the top of the pepper (the bit sticking up) without liquid. According to the canning websites I looked at, this should be okay. I think I left a bit too much head space anyway.


Last night as I was checking on the jars, a wonderful thin happened. I had a sudden feeling like my grandma was standing next to me. I felt a rush of warmth and love, and it really felt as if she was standing next to me in the kitchen.

I have written before about my grandma Rudmann and how she was so special to me. I have a framed photo of her in my office (right) ; she is my inspiration and I always feel as if she's my special guardian angel. What an amazing lady she was. She and her sisters came to America in 1922 and settled in the Bronx before they each married German immigrants and became citizens. She survived two bouts of cancer and lived to age 93. Funny, tough as nails, and I can still feel her huge, rib-cracking hugs and taste the powdered donuts my dad called Sinkas 9because they sank to the bottom of your stomach) that were her specialty. (Okay all my raw, vegan and vegetarian friends - don't scold me, okay? Memories of childhood. I haven't touched a donut since forever!)

I don't remember this about her, but my big sister Mary said that my grandma loved to preserve food. She had a root cellar and a special pantry my dad built for her in the basement of her house in Bellerose. Mary said grandma canned tomato soup, fruit from the trees in her yard and all sorts of vegetables. Grandma grew up on a farm in the wine country of Germany. By the time I remember my grandma she was no longer canning, but I remember what a wonderful baker she was.

I was standing just to the right of the range, looking at the jars of pickled peppers, and I felt as if my grandma slipped her strong arm around my shoulders and gave me a big hug. It helped, I think that was wearing a perfume yesterday that both my mom and grandma wore - Windsong. That may have pulled the image up in my subconscious, but it was a wonderful moment all the same. Thanks, Grandma, for smiling at me and giving me that nudge to take another step from my past life as driven executive and my new life as a content rural woman.

Thank you to my buddy and neighbor Patty, my neighbor Annette (of Annie's Gleanings, the blog in my sidebar) and Liz at the County Cooperative Extension office for all the encouragement.

How to Grow Stevia

I first found stevia plants through the Park Seed catalog. I bought whole plants, but now Parks seems to sell only stevia seeds. Stevia is a natural herbal sweetener. South American Indians have used it for hundreds of years as a sweetener. It appears to have no side effects and no impact on blood sugar levels, making it an ideal sweetener.

I'd been looking for a sugar replacement for years when I came across stevia I'm incredibly reactive to aspartame (Nutra Sweet). I guzzled diet colas all through high school. My diet then consisted of a slice of toast and a glass of Crystal Lite for breakfast, diet colas all day and night, and lots of other garbage I won't even mention. Later on during college, I developed horrible stomach pains that sent me from doctor to doctor. I was told I had every disease under the sun. It wasn't until about five years later that I made an appointment with Lynn Newman, herbalist and nutritionist. She took one look at my diet profile and said, "I think your stomach problems are from all the aspartame you're drinking." Within a month of cutting it out of my diet, I was like a new woman. To this day, I know as soon as some aspartame has slipped past me - say, in a restaurant if the waiter mixes up someone's diet cola with my regular one. Within 20 minutes I'm so sick I'm doubled over. Splenda may also be bad for you. Here is an excellent article by an medical doctor, Dr. Joseph Mercola, on why it's best to avoid Splenda.
I don't feel well after I drink soft drinks with Splenda in them, so I no longer use that artificial sweetener, either.

On to stevia! After researching it, I found it to be a safe alternative. It tastes fine. So when I don't want to use real sugar, I reach for my dried stevia. But it's expensive. So I decided to grow my own.

Where to Buy Stevia Seeds and Plants
I've tried to grow stevia from both seeds and plants. The seeds never germinated. From my research, other gardeners had the same problem. Most recommend plants.

You can buy stevia cuttings from the following online sources:

• The Herbal Advantage, call 800-753-9929
• Well Sweep Herb Farm, New Jersey, USA, call 908-852-5390
  
• Richter's Herbs, Canada - 905-640-6677

Burpee sells stevia seeds. Perhaps you will have better luck than I did with them.

Parks now sells stevia seeds too.

Growing Stevia
Stevia needs warmth, with soil temperatures around 50-60 degrees. Once it puts down its root system and seems happy, like mine pictured here out in the organic herb garden, it will usually winter over with some help. (I'm not taking chances; I'm taking cuttings and if they don't root, I'm building a cold frame over it!)

Stevia needs sandy loam or rich loamy soil. It also needs full sun.

I love growing herbs because they're usually carefree, and stevia is no exception. I've got it growing next to the mint. It has a reputation for repelling insects, which is great for my organic garden. I have noticed that there are never any insects on it - the leaves are pristine and perfect. There are insects on the green beans directly behind it though.

Harvesting and Drying Stevia
I have been harvesting stevia throughout the growing season. I take sharp scissors and snip away the stems. I lay them in an old roasting pan. My house is full of old commercial roasting pans. Hubby's great grandfather was a chef and I have a lot of his old equipment. It's too big for our simple needs, but I put it to good use by recycling it for herb drying!

Most experts recommend waiting until the fall to harvest stevia. The cool temperatures intensify the sweetness. They recommend waiting as long as you can, but not letting frost nip the plants. Snip the stevia leaves and place on a rack to allow air circulation. Solar drying works fine for stevia. It takes only about a day in hot, dry weather to dry it out. Remove the leaves from the stems; crush and store. Then use as you need it.

Stevia: Simple to Grow
Once you get your stevia started, it's one of the simplest herbs to grow. My little plants struggled along for quite a while before they took off. I think the hardest part was getting them over their mail order shock. Once the warm weather came and they realized they were in a warm, sunny, rich soil, they happily sent up leaves and spread willingly.

So good luck with your stevia. It's an organic gardener's best friend, a great herbal sweetener, and grew well in my Virginia, zone 7 garden.

More tips on growing stevia from Stevia.

Bloom Where You're Planted

I'm a little upset today. Seems like She Who Shall Remain Nameless called me a Polyanna for not posting anything negative, gloomy or whiny on my blog.

Aside from the fact that nobody would want to read this blog if all I did was moan about what I missed - what's the good of it?

Let me tell you something: I used to be a big whiner, complainer, and person who found the hair in my food at every restaurant. In every situation I found something wrong. With every person, I found something lacking.

Here is what I learned: You tend to find what you look for. If you're always complaining, you will only hear complaints. You will only see what is wrong in your life. You will find the gloom and doom and drag yourself and everyone around you down.

If you give thanks and praise every day for what you have, more goodness, beauty and joy comes to you.

I broke my bad habit of complaining all the time somewhere back in the past when Hubby and I were dating. We used to take long walks around the neighborhood. We were walking and talking on a brisk fall day and kicking the orange crackly leaves around and I was gabbing away and suddenly Hubby stopped me. "You know what? I can't take your complaining all the time. If this is what it is going to be like being with you the rest of my life, we need to stop seeing each other (we were dating at the time, not yet engaged)."

Shock. Horror. He was rejecting ME!

But complaining wasn't ME...it was a bad habit I picked up from my family or origin, for whom complaints were a way of bonding.

That was my wake up call. I stopped complaining. If I fell back into the habit, I asked Hubby to remind me. I learned from some spiritual teachers the truth - we give thanks in everything. That is the right way to be.

Now I am like an ex smoker around someone lighting up...I hear the start of a big old whine fest coming and I cut the other person off. Real problems, sickness, divorce, lost a job, I'm here for ya. Just want to whine about your day? Can't talk to you right now.

"But," said She Who Shall Remain Nameless to me on the phone, "you are always so HAPPY. It isn't right. Don't you miss anything about New York?"

Yes. Absolutely. Every day. To keep things honest, once and for all, here is what I miss:

• I miss New York City. I miss the streets and the crush of people and the damn traffic.
• I miss the way New York City streets look like watercolor paintings at night in a rain storm.
• I miss the friendships I made by working in an office.
• I miss the convenience of stepping out of my office and grabbing, depending on my mood: California rolls and sushi, a Greek salad, palek paneer and Nan bread, or macaroni and cheese. There were four stores in a row on 7th Avenue about five minutes from an office I last worked in and I could get any one of those meals for $5 or less.
• St. Francis of Assisi Church on 32nd street. The little chapel to Our Lady of Lourdes where I'd sneak off to pray the rosary during my lunch hour.
• Lincoln Center, free Julliard concerts at 1pm on Wednesday, watching the costume truck arrive each fall at the back door to the Metropolitan Opera House and unload rack after rack of exquisite gowns (one of my offices overlooked the back of the Opera House).
  
• I miss watching TV at night and seeing places I'd been during the day. I used to love being able to say "Hey! I was just there at lunch time and I never SAW that robbery/truck crashing through the window/Naked Cowboy." (the Naked Cowboy is a real man, yes he is down to his briefs, cowboy boots and hat and nothing else, and yes, I actually ran physically smack into him one day in Times Square. Another story for another day.)
  
• I miss Jones Beach, sidewalks in a neighborhoods, my neighbors from Chestnut Street, downtown Huntington on a Saturday morning, the Huntington Public Library and my salon on Main Street with the Korean girl who spoke not a word of English but who ALWAYS got my eyebrow waxing just right and my manicure perfect.

Here is what I don't miss:

• The streets, the crush, and all the damn people.
• Getting soaked trying to flag a taxi during rush hour or running to the subway, slipping on the wet floor in the subway, sitting in a puddle on the Long Island Rail Road because the guy before me insisted on putting his sopping wet umbrella on the seat.
• Ruining my good shoes, papers in my briefcase, and my coat because some idiot left his extra large plastic cup of gin and tonic on the floor of the Long Island Rail Road and it spilled and made me stink like a bar. Thanks big guy. Next time I'm going to pour this on your living room carpet and see how you like it. Now I've got to run into a meeting with a presentation that smells like Captain Morgan was here.
• The backbiting, gossip, and stupidity of office life. Did I mention that no manager should EVER have to work in a cubicle? Frankly NOBODY should ever work in a cubicle. The guy who invented cubicles should be made to spend the rest of his life chained to one. Although from old movies, desks used to be lined up in big open rooms, which I suppose is worse.
  
• The food: at least I stick to my diet now.
• I miss Lincoln Center, Julliard, and the Metropolitan Opera. There's no replacing it. Sorry.
  
• I still watch TV at night and I can still recognize things, like the huge needle and button sculpture in the Garment District, the fountain at Columbus Circle, and the Jumbo Tron.
• Jones Beach on the weekend with a billion people blasting music I don't like in my ears; Long Island traffic; Long Island shopping malls and the spend, spend, spend culture that goes with it.
• I still miss Huntington's Main Street, my salon, the library and my neighbors. No replacing that.
  

So do I miss New York? Yes. Am I complaining? No.

I love my new life. My farm is a peaceful, tranquil place. I take long walks with my best buddy, Shadow. My office companions are furry and don't gossip about me. I blast the music that I like in my office and I don't have to worry about anyone stealing my pens. I don't have to fight traffic, rush hour trains, transit strikes, and sticky commuter cars. I've made friends and I like my neighbors. I love my new church and the small, warm community of Catholics, like a little oasis. I love the people I have met here and the fun we've had getting to know each other.

My motto has always been "Bloom where you are planted."

And like the good weed I am, I've put down a deep tap root and intend to keep on blooming, no matter the season.

Bugs Bunny Knew a Thing or Two

Hubby's favorite cartoon character is Bugs Bunny. I admit, I like Bugs - but he doesn't do a lot for me. I'm more a fan of Shaggy, Scooby, Velma, Fred and Daphne. "If it weren't for those meddling kids..!"

Bugs, with his ever-present carrot, knew a thing or two. I love carrots. My whole family at least likes them, which is a wonder. Most vegetables on the dinner table elicit a "love it or hate" emotion. When I place a bowl of freshly steamed carrots on the table, it's like, "hhmn..okay, great, I'll take seconds on that." I grow them 100% organic. I use no chemical pesticides, fertilizers or anything on them and they do great here in my zone 6 - 7 Virginia garden.






Carrots are good for you. Consider this nutritional profile from The World's Healthiest Foods:



I posted earlier in the week about my amazing harvest of carrots this year. I planted two packages of carrot seeds. One was a free gift from a Christian organization dedicated to ending world hunger. They sent me a package of seeds as thanks for a donation. The second was a 99 cent package of seeds from Lowe's. The free seeds weren't that good, frankly. They were the squat type of carrots and tasted bitter. But the 99 cent package....these were the long, slender orange ones.

I harvested 20 pounds from just that one seed package alone!

Carrot growing and storage tips:

• Soil is the most important thing when growing carrots. The commercial growers use sandy loam or very friable soil. I used almost pure compost in raised beds. No stones to get in the way of root development and lots and lots of organic, natural nutrients.
• I planted my carrots next to catnip. (Pierre highly recommends this to those of you with kitties). I believe it kept insect problems away.
• Plant carrots after all danger of frost - they like a soil temperature around 65 degrees Fahrenheit, according to Carrot Gardening Tips.
• They do need full sun, so make sure the sun is shining brightly and unobstructed on your carrot patch.
• They like a soil pH of 6.5. Too acid, and they rebel.
  
• Carrots forming multiple roots, like legs? Check the nitrogen level. Too much nitrogen in the soil causes roots splitting and the development of oddly shaped carrots with torso and legs (at least that's what they always looked like to me.)
• They can be stored for up to 9 months in the fridge. The reason store-bought carrots don't last that long is because many companies store them for several months BEFORE they hit the grocery store shelves.
• You can freeze carrots or can them. If you can them, use a pressure canner. Pickle them if steam canning.
• Carrots can be munched raw, steamed, boiled, served with a sauce, included in recipes, boiled and mashed like a potato, and made into soup. Juiced, stirred, sauteed...there are hundreds of ways to cook them.
  

Carrot Trivia

• The first known cultivation of carrots is way, way back in history....Asian and Middle Eastern countries cultivated carrots in pre-Hellenistic times (BC or BCE, Before the Common Era).
• Carrots are always orange, right? Nope. There are orange, yellow, red, purple and white varieties!
• Europeans didn't eat carrots until the Renaissance. Early varieties of carrots were tough and sometimes bitter. In the 17th century, European gardeners cultivated the orange, sweet carrots we know and love today.
  
• Carrots were the first vegetable canned.
  

And you've got to love a vegetable that has its own MUSEUM. I kid you not! There's a World Carrot Museum! Here's the link. You know you've arrived when there's a whole museum dedicated to you.

So here's to the carrot. Munch on!

That adorable little boy is not my child, although I love him (and his sister) like they were my own. That's my nephew, Matt. He is a now 15 year old now, a drummer in a garage rock band, a video gamer and all around cool kid. If he finds this picture (taken when he was 3) I'm going to get an "Aw, Aunt Jeannie, how COULD you?" So Melissa, when you read this blog, do show it to your brother!

Please Vote for Shadow

I've entered Shadow in the World's Cutest Dog Contest. Please stop by and vote for her! Link is below. I won't tell Pierre you voted for his arch enemy, the canine in the house. Thanks!

Random Bits & 20 Pounds of Carrots

Random bits of what I've been up to this weekend.

Picked the rest of the organic carrots. We've grown about 20 pounds or more from a 99 cent package of seeds from Lowe's. The carrots are amazing...sweet, straight (for the most part) and just yummy. I planted the seeds and did nothing else the entire growing season. Just let the carrots alone. I did plant catnip heavily in the area, which may have helped keep the bugs at bay. The carrot patch was 4' x 4' and we grew over 20 pounds without one single pesticide, chemical fertilizer, or special anything. I will do another post on the specifics of growing these yummy organic carrots later this week.




Loved this carrot. It's perfectly braided. It just grew that way. Leave it to a gardener to take pictures of a crazy carrot!







Now what to DO with all those carrots? Five pounds are in the fridge. Later today I will blanch and freeze more. To blanch the carrots, cut off the ends, peel, and slice into coins. Boil water and make sure it is in a good rolling boil. Fill a metal pan with ice cold water and ice. Place the carrots into the boiling hot water and boil for 2-3 minutes. Drain and quickly immerse them into the ice water. I leave them there a few minutes, drain, pat with paper towels, and pour into zip-lock freezer bags. Label, date and DONE - they pop right into the chest freezer in the pantry.


I went around the garden and checked on all the volunteer seedlings. There are over a dozen buddleia (Butterfly Bush) babies. A few I will dig up and move, and some will be potted up as gifts for my gardening neighbors. I took these photos in anticipation of another blog post this week on Garden Volunteers, Part 2. This silly white petunia is growing in the gravel in my driveway. What's astonishing is that I didn't plant ANY white petunias this year - this is a seed from last year's bed of petunias, grown about five feet further down the driveway, that somehow blew upwind, found its way into the driveway gravel, and decided over a year later to sprout. Amazing!




What else did I do this weekend? Let's see...


I cleaned the house top to bottom. No photos of that, I'm afraid. But we snapped this picture of Pierre examing Hubby's new 3-volume set of Tolstoy. I guess he thinks Russian literature is a "must-read" for cats.

• I took photos of the herb garden...hoping to do a new series on the herbs I am growing, particularly GROWING STEVIA. Yes, I grow my own, dry it and voila - natural sweetener. More on this one coming soon!
  
• We went shopping, stocked up on groceries and I checked out the new fabric store at Miller's Country store. And joy oh joy - they have quilting supplies, cross stitch kits, AND the ladies will do alterations to your clothes. Thank you ladies for opening a real old-fashioned sewing store!
• And now I am off to church to sing with the choir at 10:30. Today is the church picnic and I may stop by. Sometimes I feel funny because everyone else is with family and it's just me, but I will play it by ear and just see how I feel....
• ...and later today, blanching more carrots, green beans, and baking CARROT MUFFINS. Recipe will go up when it turns out good; I downloaded this one from Cooks.com, and I want to try it before I recommend it.

Enjoy your day, everyone!

Fun and Funny Blogs

I've added a bunch of blogs from friends and acquaintances over the past week. Several cherished friends have begun blogging and I enjoy their posts so much! I add them to the blog roll in the left margin on the blog, but I also want to point out a few of note:

Blue Lion's Lair: The Blue Lion is a dear friend of over 20 years, and a deep thinker. His beliefs are eclectic but sincere. He writes a lot about philosophy. Enter his lair and beware!

Things I See At the Mall: This cherished young lady is an accomplished writer with a biting sense of humor. She works in a shopping mall at a retail store and writes about...well, things she sees at the mall. Sarcastic and funny comments on the oddities of human nature.

Allen Mogol's Blog: For one of Manhattan's most talented playwrights, Allen, couldn't you have found a better name for your blog?! Seriously, Allen is a friend from my College Board days. He headed up SAT marketing and I headed up K-12 Marketing. He and I continue to partner on projects because we are like yin and yang, Mutt and Jeff, Abbott and Costello, peanut butter and jelly. He takes pages from the New York Times and then posts some very funny comments about them. So until his play opens on Broadway, I must settle for this lively blog.

Concern for Our Country: Sheri Rhodes has been a business associate and friend since I launched my equine art company, EquinArt Creations. She's now blogging her thoughts about politics and the health care debate. She and I share a few philosophies, especially about hard work and entrepreneurship!

These are the latest blogs I've added to my list. I called them to your attention because they were written by people dear to me. I think each week I will highlight a few blogs in various categories that I follow: religion/politics, fashion (from a modesty/vintage perspective), health and nutrition, and gardening. That should keep it lively.

Well, I'm off today to run errands. Shopping in town. I can't wait to get to Miller's Country Store. In the middle of rural Virginia, I have found all my raw foods there...all sorts of raw goodies, gluten-free pasta, and wonderful health foods on the shelves, even Braggs amino acids. Now they are adding a fabric store. I'm not the 'craftiest' person around. I do counted cross stitch and that is about it. My latest project are cross-stitched and quilted pillows for the bedroom, so when Miller's opens their new fabric store I will be first on line to find the fabric to finish my new pillows. And of course we have to hit the regular grocery stores today....but time later, I hope, for some baking and cleaning before the dog hair overtakes us.

Have a blessed day!

Remembering 9/11

Yesterday we heard a lot of commotion and trucks. I told John it sounded like men in our woods, but he said no. We know there were work crews trimming trees along our road yesterday to keep branches from the electrical wires, so we assumed it was the crews. But when I walked Shadow this morning on the road, I noticed that the grass fire lane that runs along the north line of our property and is part of the hunting club's property had been mowed. We've heard hounds in the kennels each night barking their heads off. Now they mowed down the lane and all around the old tobacco barn behind our property all the way up to the old farm house, what used to be the center of our land when it was a working farm back in the 1800's some time.

As we were falling asleep last night, we heard the unmistakable whistling snort of deer so close I think they were in our driveway. We heard the crack and crash of antlers crashing together. Each evening there has been a beautiful male with big arching antlers visiting our clearing. He steps out of the forest, nibbles grass, but at the slightest sound he tumbles back through the brush. The female with the crooked front leg and her two fawns rest in our clearing each night too.

I walked back along our road and down the fire lane, then walked all through the woods. It was a crisp fall morning and with the hunters readying for opening day, and the deer crashing antlers each night, I knew it was fall.

I thought a lot about how this morning was different from another morning 8 years ago.

On that morning - September 11, 2001 - I was on a Long Island Rail Road train. I was heading towards Manhattan and the College Board where I worked. I was really excited because I was starting my second graduate school class at New York University, a basic marketing class, that evening and I couldn't wait. I loved to be in school and New York University was one of my favorite schools to attend. Just minutes before the first plane hit, I was looking right towards lower Manhattan. The sky was so blue and the air was crisp enough that I wore my new suede jacket that day. As the train thundered into the East River tunnel, I saw nothing but clear blue sky. I never saw it coming.

When I emerged from the subway and walked a few blocks to the College Board's building, a taxi cab had pulled up and I saw my boss stepping out of the cab. She looked really, really upset. Now this lady was a drama queen. She would throw tantrums and fits about nothing. But you could tell when she was really upset and when she was just play acting. She was really, really upset. She wasn't play acting.

Another man and I stopped to ask her what was wrong. "A plane just hit the Twin Towers," she said. "It just came across the radio in the cab." Her apartment was across the street and up the block from the Twin Towers. I quickly asked her if her husband and daughter were home, and she said no, they had left for school and work before she did. We all went our separate ways but now I saw people coming into the building looking worried, scared or upset as they heard bits and pieces of what was going on a few miles away from us.

By the time I got upstairs to my office, my phone was ringing. My brother in law, who is an EMS worker and a captain in the NY Fire Department, was on the phone. He started barking orders at me before I even asked what was wrong. "Stay away from the windows. Get everyone inside. Make sure you have drinking water and food as the electricity may go out." What the heck was going on?

It wasn't just a random small plane as I had thought. By that time, he knew it was a terrorist attack. All those drills I remember him having to go through and now we were in the middle of things.

Our department administrative assistant got a website up that showed live news and that was how I saw the second plane. I kept the radio on. I called John to tell him I wasn't coming home that night because they'd shut down Manhattan and oh by the way, we were under attack from an unknown group. He hadn't turned on the TV but while we were on the phone he switched on CNN. I just heard him gasp and swear a lot under his breath. He knew I was safe a few miles from ground zero, but he was just about as scared as I was. I hung up and gathered my staff together and made sure nobody had family near there. I wasn't sure what I would do if anyone did have a loved one downtown, but at least I'd be there to hold them up.

Everyone in our company ended up in a big conference room huddled together as big screen TV's were set up. At one point, I had two men - both administrative assistants - crying on my shoulders. We sat together on the floor, at tables, and held each other and watched our world fall apart. I thought I'd be sleeping on the floor of my office that night but very quickly, workers in our company organized groups to sleep at people's apartments in the city. I didn't have to - around 3 o'clock, they were letting trains out to Long Island, so I walked nearly 40 blocks back to Penn Station and then got a train home. I sat next to a lady covered in debris. She was crying and crying. The conductor of the train got her a roll of paper towels and water. Another lady and I tried to comfort her but we couldn't. She just couldn't hear us. She was just shaking and crying and trying to get plaster and dust and all that crap out of her hair and off her business suit. She got out at Mineola, and I always hoped she was okay. She couldn't even tell us her name that day she was crying too hard.

When people who were not in New York City ask me what I remember most from that day, I tell them it was the sounds. The eerie silence through all the streets, as if Manhattan itself was holding its breath. But mostly the fire trucks and sirens. All the roads were closed to traffic and the main avenue in front of our office building was closed. It was turned into a one lane thoroughfare for emergency vehicles. At 10 am, fire trucks and police cars from the Bronx and upper Manhattan were coming down, all heading south. By 11 am, I started noticing trucks bearing the emblems of units from Connecticut and Westchester. Around noon, the trucks were from Pennsylvania. There were Army vehicles coming down the streets and convoys of military personnel. And sirens. Non stop sirens. And even though we were miles away, the nauseating smell of fire - burning plastic mostly, but probably a thousand other chemicals too.

This morning as I stood by our quiet, burbling creek, listening to the crows and the crickets, watching a few leaves spin lazily to the ground in my woods, I thought about all those people. I knew some of them who died. I remembered how painful the church services were each year, but how I would go and sit with everyone and cry. St. Paul's would read off the list of everyone who died while the bells tolled. At first you thought your heart would break with pain thinking of all those people whose lives just ended for no good reason. And then you went numb, completely numb, at the sheer horror of listening to each individual person called by name and we all said, "Eternal rest, grant unto them O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon them."

Health in the Garden

Yep. It's good to be back on my soap box. I missed it.

Many people found this blog through my writing for websites such as Raw People, where I write a weekly organic gardening column, or through my health writings. I'm passionate about sharing what I learn about health. And I think good health begins with diet.

Michael Pollan writes in this op-ed piece in the New York Times that the American diet is the elephant in the health care room, and I think he's right. Lately I've been writing numerous articles about preventing chronic disease, and no matter what the source - the government, the various foundations and organizations, hospitals and alternative health care experts - most agree that many chronic diseases can be prevented by living a healthy lifestyle.

We can't prevent everything. I don't want anyone to think that I blame the victim. You can eat healthy foods, exercise and do everything "right" and still find yourself sick. That's life. Stuff happens. Researchers just don't know enough about the entire disease process to understand every nuance of why some people get sick and others don't.

But according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, three-quarters of all chronic disease are lifestyle related. What a toll that takes on health and happiness. I would say that many of those people may have had the chance to prevent chronic diseases by changing their lifestyle.

I'm not a diet dictator. I don't believe in "one size diet fits all." I don't want the government to regulate, tax or punish people for what they eat. We are each unique. God made us all different. And a little of the bad stuff now and then won't kill you (you won't die from that chocolate chip cookie).

So what works for me may not work for you. But generally speaking, we know - and can say with certainty - what doesn't work:

• White sugar: read the works of Dr. Weston Price and his book, Nutrition and Physical Degeneration. Dr. Price was a dentist and the former head of the American Dental Association. In the 1930's he traveled around the world and studied remote populations in Europe, Asia, Africa and the Pacific Islands, measured, photographed and recorded their health. He proved time and time again that when indigenous people began eating white sugar based products and white flour, not only did their teeth suffer but their overall health and vigor declined. I dare you to find any health expert who says "Sure, eat all the sugar you want!" The most optimistic caution moderation while natural health experts promote abstinence.
• White flour: ditto. 'nough said
• Being sedentary: there's a reason we need to move. Until the last century or so, our bodies were designed for strong physical activity. Our ancestors worked the land, used hand tools, and walked all day long. I remember visiting a heritage museum once where there was a big giant spinning wheel in the living room of a house that the guide called a "walking wheel." The woman of the house had to walk back and forth in about a three foot section as she fed the wheel and spun her thread. The guide showed us a big worn patch on the old floor where countless women had walked while spinning. She said that one day when it was her turn to spin for the visitors, she wore a pedometer - and clocked SIX MILES just spinning wool all day! Can you imagine how much exercise our ancestors must have gotten just living their lives? Nowadays I walk the dog a mile and feel virtuous.
  

As far as I'm concerned, the jury is still out on meat, poultry, dairy and the rest. In their natural and unadulterated state I believe they can be healthy for some. Not all.

I have been a vegetarian and vegan in my lifetime, and I always get sick. Every time. I have found that for me, a diet of about 50-80% raw plants (fruit, vegetables, nuts and seeds), some cooked but organic, grassfed beef, a bit of fish, and whole grains works for me.

Again, that's me. I do feel better - clear headed, more energetic - when I eat more raw, fresh fruits and vegetables, so I try to base my diet around them. It's what works for me.

On the other hand, many of my friends and acquaintances are raw vegans. They eat nothing but raw fruit and vegetables. One of my clients is Jeff Sekerak, the superfit vegan. This week he is hiking 40 miles a day for five consecutive days through Death Valley eating nothing but raw fruit. He is an amazingly fit individual who teachers others his simple fitness program and eats nothing but fruit (and vegetables that are fruits - tomatoes, peppers and the like - all raw).

This program works for Jeff. Mine works for me.

The bottom line is this: I think health begins in the garden.

Grow vegetables. Grow fruit. Grow it organic. Enjoy it in season. Everything in moderation. Experiment to find what works for YOU. Move your body. Take a walk. Go on a bike ride. Play with your kids.

Gardening helps you stay fit in so many ways:

• I enjoy organic, seasonal produce for a fraction of what it would cost to buy it in the store
  
• I can grow unusual, unique vegetables like Bull's Blood Beets, Golden Beets, and great tomatoes with funny names and interesting shapes.
  
• When I garden, I'm walking, bending, shoveling, hauling and moving my body - and I never notice that it's exercise.
• I'm breathing fresh air all day.
  
• I'm enjoying sunlight, which encourages natural vitamin D production.
• I'm not sitting inside snacking.
  

Don't be like this poor lady I saw in Wal-Mart the other day. She was standing in line at the checkout counter behind me. She was morbidly obese. She had two precious, beautiful little children with her. She was talking on her cell phone to her mother in a very loud voice (which is how I knew she was talking to her mom!). I turned around at the sound of her voice and saw what she had in her cart.

• Bottles upon bottles of soda pop
• Pop Tarts
• Bags of potato chips
• Boxes of packaged foods (Hamburger Helper, potato mixes, rice mixes)
• Back to school supplies for the kids, household stuff like toilet paper and soap.
  

I don't think she was stocking up for a party.

She complained in a loud voice on her cell phone, "My diabetic supplies weren't in stock. Can you believe it? I gotta come back tomorrow."

I wanted to turn around and hug her. I wanted to tell her she was a beautiful person who deserved good health. I wanted to say, "It doesn't have to be this way." I wanted to show her how in a few years she might be too sick to go to her children's graduation, to watch them go to high school.

So I write, and write, and write....and I am convinced: health begins in the garden. When we start by eating what nature presents to us, even if it is natural meat and fish, we will be well.

Back to Basics

I'm back to basics on this blog again. Every time I try to focus it solely on the garden and farm, I receive comments - seemingly out of the blue - from people who miss my musings on faith or world events or just an update. I thought that focusing on one topic was better. But I'm learning that being true to myself is best.

So starting today, I'm phasing out the other blog, Best Steps to Success. I hated the title of it anyway and couldn't figure out how to change it.

This blog is going back to the usual mishmash of gardening topics (mostly), home joy (some), and occasional thoughts, most likely when I'm all riled up, about living the spiritual life - and my home turf, Catholicism. And I like to sound off occasionally on the sheer moronic nonsense of modern pop culture and the dichotomy between what people say they want (a peaceful world, strong families, healthy minds, bodies and spirits) and what our culture supports (war, strife, and all sorts of me-first attitudes that lead to sickness in mind, body and spirit.).

For those who don't like the last batch of posts - spiritual - just delete 'em. I'll get back to the garden eventually. No matter what, I always end up there anyway.


****

For my Hindu, Muslim and evangelical Christian friends who sent me emails and expressed confusion over Senator Kennedy's very public - very Catholic funeral - and the lack of admonishment from the Catholic hierarchy, ie the local Cardinal who leads the Boston congregation, this is a great article that sums up the major points and failings of our leadership in a respectful yet honest way. It's from Catholic Culture.

Now see - if you don't want to read this stuff, just skip it. Easy, right?

Birds and Bees

Don't get too excited. I'm not talking about those birds and bees.

I'm talking about the yin and yang of the garden, the swarms taking over the strawberry and zinnia beds.

I went to pick strawberries last week and got stung pretty badly in my right hand by tiny yellow bees - we called them yellow jackets back in New York, but I'm not sure they are the same here. Those magnificent strawberry plants I got from Lowe's haven't stopped producing crop after crop of organic berries, and it was so wonderful to see fat, plump red strawberries in September. I just reached down to pick them and came up with a fistful of angry yellow jackets stinging me.

They're not interested in the flowers. They are actually biting holes into the fruit and eating it!

I was more cautious this weekend when picking vegetables and fruit from the garden, but lo and behold, as I dumped a pail of compost into the pile I have in the woods, a big cloud of angry yellow jackets rose and chased me a few feet. One got into my hair, but thankfully no stings this time.

What gives? I saw them swarming my hummingbird feeder, but that made sense - after all, a hummingbird feeder is nothing more than red tinted sugar water. I had to take that down because anyone entering the garden and ducking under the archway was in danger of hitting their head and releasing a stinging swarm.

Now on to birds....we have been treated to goldfinches alighting on the zinnias every day. A pair, male and female, delights in flitting among the zinnias and picking out the flowers. They also enjoyed my Echinacea seeds but I did manage to salvage some to try to start next year.

From swarms of bees to pretty birds, it's Mother Nature at her finest as September starts the fall season in the garden!

Fussin' with the Flowers

We're fussing with the flower garden again. Hubby saw a photo in my Country Gardens magazine using the same stones we bought for the paths stacked as garden borders instead of pathway stones. The paths just aren't working out the way we planned them. It was a great idea, but actually doing the work is harder than we imagined. I put stones down in July just to see how they would look. They sunk into the ground somewhat, but the weeds keep coming back between the cracks, the sand washed down and ruined the shade bed, and everyone trips over them. They're uneven, it's really hard to match them up, and it's just been frustrating all around. Besides, I can't push a wheelbarrow over them so I'm stuck running pails of compost and mulch back and forth. With this much space to cover it's pretty frustrating.

So when Hubby turned to me with the magazine picture in his hands and asked, "How would you like this instead?" I wanted to shout "Hurray!"

Off we go to Jamerson's in Appomattox tomorrow to order the stones. We are going to stack the thick Buckingham slates to make the garden bed walls, put down more landscape fabric, and use the white pebbles instead on the pathways. The pretty decorative stones I bought at B & M Greenhouse in Farmville will remain as accents in the pathway.




The flower gardens are our fall and winter project. I can't wait to show you the progress!


Photos today are all from the flower garden...what's blooming now.

I just participated in Tootsie Time's link exchange. Everyone's swapping links to show off what's blooming in their garden - how fun!

Wildflowers Blooming on the Farm

I love to learn the names of things...birds, wildflowers, stars. I snapped photos of these wildflowers blooming in our woods. Can you identify them? I did not take photos of what I could identify....Queen Anne's lace, cornflowers, honeysuckle, and Goldenrod are blooming now, and the Milk Weed in the fields has set its flower pods.

What are the names of these beautiful wildflowers?


This pink one is at the edge of the driveway. It reminds me of a sweet pea. What is it?







This yellow daisy-like flowers grows on the edges of the clearing and is very tall, in some spots over four feet:


This one is in the woods, in deep shade, and grows in clusters or clumps. What is it?






This one has flowers so small, they're easy to miss. It's growing near the base of trees. Do you know what it is? I don't !