12 Herbs for the Colonial Garden

I've been a writer for close to 20 years now, and still nothing compares with the thrill of seeing my name as the byline of an article, especially in a print magazine. My latest article for The Herb Companion magazine is also up on their website, so I thought you might enjoy reading it. It was great fun to interview the expert at Colonial Williamsburg, and inspired me to reconsider my herb garden plans for 2011.

Click the link below to read the full article on The Herb Companion's website.

Thank you to all those who contributed quotes to the article!

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12 Herbs for the Colonial Garden

P and Mini P

This is a true story. You might not believe it, but it's absolutely, honestly true.

It's about Pierre, who goes by the nickname P around here, and his newest toy, which we nicknamed "mini P."

Mini P is large stuffed mouse I acquired at Dollar Tree. He's gray like Pierre, and has a white belly like Pierre, which earned him the nickname Mini P, like "mini me" in the Austin Powers movies.  Mini P makes a nice rattling sound when he's batted around the house, which really excites Pierre.  We hear him jingle-jangling his way all around the house with that thing.

Now, Pierre has managed to lose several mini P's over the past few weeks.  One is still at large in the house, but he has another he enjoys.  Still, when he shoves it behind the TV cabinet or under the sofa and can't get it out, he gets frustrated.

Early this morning, he took matters into his own paws.

I was sitting in the plant room enjoying my morning coffee when the sound of Mini P's rattle jingled throughout the house.  Then I heard a thump and a muffled crash.  I considered checking Pierre's whereabouts, since I had a feeling the crash came from his antics, but the next sound was a short jingle, as if he had his Mini P toy again.  I thought nothing of it and continued reading.  About half an hour later, I walked up stairs and went into the bedroom, where I found the source of the noise.

You see, we had a new mini P, still attached to his store cardboard backing, on a high bookshelf.  Pierre had lost his toy, and decided to take matters into his own paws. He's climbed up onto a bookshelf about 3 feet high, jumped to another piece of furniture, then made the leap up another several feet to reach the desired toy.  He grasped the cardboard back and walked it across the living room, up a long flight of stairs, and left it at the foot of the bed...hoping, I guess, that one of us would play with him.

I had to show it to John.  We got such a kick out of it that I didn't even mind the books Pierre had knocked over in his attempts to grab the toy off the shelf.

So now not only can this cat open doors by hitting the door latch with his weight, he can climb up bookshelves to get his toys.  Lucky for us all his Friskies bag is safely  in a closet, but woe until me when he realizes he can pop open that door, too!

Growing and Using Lemon Balm

Growing and Using Lemon Balm

My friend, author Marye Audet, wrote a great piece on growing and using lemon balm, which I am sharing above. Like cinnamon basil, lemon balm is an herb that's unfamiliar to many but is a wonderful, useful, and easy to grow plant. Now's not the time to start it, unless you have plant lights or a bright south-facing window; you could grow this in the house and transfer it to the garden in the spring. Both herbs smell terrific when you crush the leaves between your fingers, and both can be boiled into a simple syrup. My friend Eniko tells me that lemon balm makes a wonderful simple lemon syrup that tastes great over ice cream. I'll let you in on a secret; I actually grow it for her!

Enjoy Marye's article by clicking above. My article on cinnamon basil is also linked. Enjoy, enjoy!

Frost Pictures

This morning we had our first really hard frost. It was 22 when I stepped outside to walk the dog.  As I walked over to the driveway, the sun's rays hit the flower garden, and the ice crystals glittered in the sun.  I could only marvel at the beautiful frost pictures...the leaves coated with ice, making pretty patterns, ice crystals hanging from the rose leaves, and more.  So I took pictures to show you the garden in all its frosty beauty today. 

Yarrow in frost

Roses in frost

Rose hips on Blaze climber

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Christmas Cactus Blooms

My plant room

Last year, you may recall my story of buying some sad, decrepit, left-outside-to-die-in-the-cold Christmas cactus at Lowe's. I'd always wanted Christmas cactus; my dad grew huge ones, and brought them into the living room to place them before the hearth when they were in full bloom each December.  I had no idea how to grow them. I just knew I wanted to try.

Those sad, shriveled up, halfway dead Christmas cacti not only made a comeback...they bloomed!  Here are pictures of my two beauties, a hot pink one and a peach tinted white that's just stunning.  They grace my plant room in the back of the house and I love nothing better than to sit in my comfortable chair, gazing at them with the woods and vegetable garden as the backdrop.

What a nice, garden-y way to start the Christmas season!

Happy Thankssgiving

I am grateful beyond words this Thanksgiving for so many things.  For family, far and near.  For friends, new and old.  For you, my loyal readers and followers.

With thanksgiving -

Jeanne

Thanksgiving Walnuts and Fairy Cradles

My family looks forward to those big bags of mixed nuts at the supermarket.  We pull out the nut tray, a dish shaped like a hollow log, along with the accoutrement such as metal crackers and those things with the pointy ends to dig the nut out of the shell that look like something the dentist should use.  No matter how expensive mixed nuts get, we still buy bags. They'll remain out for nibbling at my house from Thanksgiving through New Year's Day.

I was standing near the compost bin yesterday cracking open a walnut, thinking happily that I needed to call Aunt Lucille and wish her a Happy Thanksgiving tomorrow.  Then like a wave cresting over me, the sorrow hit again; I'd forgotten that she was gone. No more Thanksgivings with her, or Christmas.  Now, I haven't shared a Thanksgiving dinner with her in years, having been co-opted by my in laws long before my move to Virginia.  She always ate Thanksgiving dinner at my eldest sister's house and sometimes my eldest brother's house on Long Island.  But still the same, as I picked walnut meat out of the shell, I thought sadly that she would not be here anymore.

But why think of her at that precise moment?  For a second I paused, holding the walnut shell between thumb and forefinger.  A hint of the laundry soap smell came over me, the scent of her long white dress, and bayberry candles.

Suddenly I was four or five years old again. I was sitting at the long table in our dining room next to Aunt Lucille.  Dinner had been cleared, and we were the only two left at the table. The snowy white tablecloth was now mass of turkey gravy, cranberry, and butter dripping stains. Two bayberry-scented candles sputtered in the brass holders on the table.  From the living room I could hear the television set where my siblings, my parents and my grandmother were gathered, probably watching The Sound of Music or The Wizard of Oz - two movies that always seemed to be on the television for the holidays.

Aunt Lucille was showing me how to crack open a walnut.   "Please, can you crack it so that the shell is perfectly in half?" I begged.

"Well," she said, "I'll try." And she did, handing me both smooth halves. "It's a fairy cradle."

"A what?"

She smiled.  "When they crack perfectly like that , wee used to call them fairy cradles, and make tiny cradles out of walnut shells for our dolls."

"Like Thumbelina!"

"Exactly."

I remember running downstairs for glue and purple glitter, and generally making a total mess of the walnut shell, trying to make it a cradle for an imaginary fairy baby.

I don't remember anything else from that Thanksgiving dinner long ago, but somehow, standing in my kitchen in Virginia over 30 years later, just the smooth, cool feel of the walnut shell between my fingers sparked a memory lying dormant deep within my mind of my aunt.

Maybe this is our way of grieving.  Maybe these tiny fits and starts, these, "Oh, I have to call her! - oh wait, she isn't here," feelings are our way of keeping memory alive.  The mind links seemingly random things together, walnut shells and fairy cradles, Thanksgiving and beloved aunts, drawing forth the memory gently when we need it most to remember ones we love.

Gorgeous Greens

My neighbor Joan invited me to pick greens at her house last weekend, but due to wakes, funerals, travel and such yesterday was the first day I was able to make it over.  I brought her several garlic bulbs which delighted her; apparently her garlic didn't grow too well this year, so the little bag of six bulbs, with their full, lush cloves was a treat for her.  We picked greens before the men headed out to tour the farm and their poultry house and Joan and I sat down to tea and catching up.

Greens are a treat here in the south, but up north on Long Island where I am originally from, very few people know or enjoy them. I think that's also because very few are available in the grocery stores. You can buy bags of prepared kale and spinach, and sometimes find Swiss Chard at the store, but you have to really search the farmers markets and little vegetable stands to find other types.

We walked down to one of their three lush and well tended vegetable gardens. The greens grew near the house in a bed of red clay liberally amended with goat and cattle manure that made the perfect soil.  Joan handed me mustard green, field greens, and bunches of greens whose names I did not catch, while Mel picked perfectly globe-shaped turnips. The turnips glowed in the twilight with a purple beauty and a healthy, rosy light that you don't find in months-old, heavily waxed turnips at the store.  With Virginia red clay soil still clinging to the turnips, John bagged them for the trip home. I think only a gardener can appreciate the beauty of the scene; the rich, red soil, the perfect purple and white spheres of turnips with the lush green leaves above.

Once we returned home, John chopped the turnip tops off for me and we put them in a big stockpot of water overnight to keep them fresh.  I'll cook them tonight, along with our home grown sweet potatoes and pork chops for the fellas.  The other greens are bagged, awaiting their turn in smoothies and salads.  I feel so blessed to have generous neighbors! I could not get over how beautiful their greens were out in the field.  I'm inspired now to grow my own next year. I told Joan about broccoli rabe, and she seemed puzzled, so now I want to grow double - just to share it!

Pierre Takes a Ride

While I was out of town, an order arrived at the house.  It was a large, heavy box and my husband had to move it himself because I wasn't there to help him. He put an old blanket on the floor, shimmied the box onto the blanket, and used the blanket like a sled to slide the item through the house on the tile and wood floors.  When he got to the family room, he realized he was straining with the exertion of pulling...more so than usual.  He looked down, and there was Pierre, who had happily hitched a ride on the end of the blanket.  Seventeen pounds of fat gray cat was clutching the blanket, taking a ride through the house. Apparently, his royal highness enjoyed being pulled through the house on the blanket, so much so that now he's decided the blanket is HIS, and he won't budge.  Here he is, on his royal barge after it was pulled to rest in the house.

What's next for him? A sedan chair? His own royal coach?

Tough Week

Thank you for your prayers and good wishes.  My friend AJ, who I have told you about before, died from cancer November 10; he was buried today.

Yesterday as I was leaving the house for his wake, the phone rang. It was my sister delivering the news that Aunt Lucille (Sister Janice Buettner), who has been such a huge part of my life, had died 


Thank you, as always, for keeping us all in your thoughts.

Thankful

I just wanted to say a heartfelt thanks to friends who offered kind words and prayers for my intentions yesterday. I am grateful beyond measure for this unique world of the internet, that has made it possible for me to meet so many wonderful people online....I really, really appreciated the notes, prayers and kind wishes.


Blessings,
Jeanne

Not Feeling Particularly Chatty

So instead I am asking for prayers, if you feel so inclined.  It's been a rough week.

Aunt Lucille, who I've told you about many times, is in the hospital after suffering two heart attacks last week. She is 92 years young, but I am afraid that even she has a finite life. Please include her in your prayers.

A very good friend is suffering in the last stages of cancer. Please keep him in your prayers.

Someone else in my life just received a diagnosis of an autoimmune disease and is having trouble accepting it. Please keep her in your prayers.

And a friend back in New York faces a double mastectomy for breast cancer next week; please keep her in your prayers too.

I didn't include names for several people as I am not sure how they would feel about my writing their requests here.  Just keep them in your thoughts, these anonymous friends of mine, who need your charity and prayers now more than ever.

As for me, I am blessed beyond measure, and I thank God daily for health, happiness, a career I love, and the cozy warmth of my office where I spin threads of words that turn into things people actually want to read.

Blessings to you all!

Vegetable Garden Winding Down and Thinking Ahead

I don't know whether this time of year makes me sad or happy. On the one hand, the vegetable garden is winding down. Tomorrow's task list includes taking out the tobacco sticks (long sticks with pointed ends that were using to harvest tobacco in olden times; I got a bunch of them from a neighbor who was cleaning out his barn and I use them as tomato stakes), removing the dead tomatoes and peppers, and trimming back the herbs. I found a few wayward carrots and those will need to be pulled too.  I also found my onions. I'd planted a bunch but thought they'd all died. Lo and behold, after cleaning out the beets a few weeks ago, I found a few shoots, and left them alone.  They're still rather small so I may leave them over the winter and see what happens.

Beans have fascinated me for a long time too, not just the green beans typical of the suburban garden but the plethora of heirloom beans that were once grown by Native Americans, European settlers and more throughout North America. Many of them are easy to find in the supermarket - kidney beans, white beans, navy beans, black beans - so I probably won't grow those. But what about the yin-yang bean with its amazing coloration that looks like the Chinese yin-yang sign? Jacob's Cattle bean, once a staple food? There are dozens of beans like this and I spent quite a while last night on the Vermont Bean Seed company website, thinking of what to plant.

I know that I will plant broccoli rabe next spring. I missed planting it this year and I enjoy it even if my family has yet to grow to love the bitter taste.  And...it goes well with beans....

Can you tell I'm getting a wee bit obsessed again?  Yet it's this interest, this delving into one topic and following all sorts of routes and side routes of information that has kept me interested in gardening all these years.

So tomorrow is clean up time in the vegetable garden. I will redraw my garden plan so that during the winter I can remember where all the bulbs went - I tend to lose them from fall planting to spring blooming. If time permits, we'll add another 200 daffodil bulbs to the orchard lawn, and move more truckloads of compost into the vegetable beds.  Typical Saturday!

What I Learned About My Garden This Year

Cinnamon basil in the herb garden

It's cold and rainy out today, and the forecast for the weekend called for temperatures in the twenties.  We hit two yearly milestones this year; first frost and the first time we used the fireplaces in the house.  Both occurred on November 1, marking an end to summer.

I look back and feel as if the gardening year flew by.  I look ahead with pleasure to the publication of my latest book, Attracting Birds to the Garden, which is in the galley proof stage now, meaning it's getting closer to reality, and work on the next books in the From the Garden series.

Sometimes when you're so immersed in the daily realities of gardening you lose track of what you've accomplished.  I felt like this year I had more failures than successes.  The drought and extreme heat really did take their toll on the gardens, but I did try some new things with success.

The frosts this weekend will kill what's left in the vegetable garden. Before the plants are but a memory, I wanted to share a few notes from my 2010 gardening adventures, both indoor and out, and just general adventures from the farm.

Sweet Potatoes
It was my first year growing them and I had no idea what I should do.  I thought I'd killed them at first. Instead, I harvested a bumper crop. I realized something very important, too. Root vegetables grow very well in my garden.  Next year, I plan to try a few more, including some unusual varieties of potatoes.

Carrots
Carrots love my garden. I love carrots. It's a match made in heaven.  Once again I harvested a bumper crop of long, sweet, juice Nantes-style carrots. More please!

Cantaloupe
Once again we had a bumper crop of cantaloupe, but they all came in at once and we got so sick of eating them that many went to waste. Now that I know they do well despite droughts and heat waves, I want to try a few different kinds and stagger the planting dates so the harvesting dates may be a bit staggered, too. That will keep me from getting sick of them!

Moles
Shadow found a mole digging in the vegetable garden. I ran and looked them up, fearing I had a new creature bent on eating everything in sight. I learned that moles are harmless, except for the roots they disturb.  Shadow's attentions discouraged the mole and she left the garden to live next to the shed, but I learned a lot about wildlife.

Bluebirds
The bluebird house Phil made for us attracted its first nesting pair this spring.  I could sit in my chair inside the house in my plant room and watch the parents feed the babies.  It inspired me to write Attracting Birds to the Garden; those baby bluebirds gave me such pleasure and joy every time I saw them.  It was a delight.

Groundhogs
Did you know they can climb trees? I didn't, until Shadow chased one straight up a pine tree.  That fat, furry rodent hung by his claws to the trunk, chattering its teeth menacingly while my dog went crazy at the base.  She could be a good hunting dog I suppose.  She is wonderful for keeping critters from the garden!

Celebrate All Saints Day

Today is the feast of All Saints Day, a holy day in the Roman Catholic church.  One of the great joys of being Catholic is our special relationship with saints.  Saints are holy men and women who lived very special lives and have been officially honored by the church (there are saints whose names we do not know...they are celebrated today too...today is about all the holy men and women, not just the ones whose names we know).



Some, like St. Francis de Sales, found special ways of interpreting Jesus' message and living their lives according to his teachings, and they in turn taught others their way and helped people draw closer to Christ. St. Therese of Liseux, another favorite saint of mine, was like that too with her 'little way' to Christ.  Saints may be martyrs or they may have died of old age. There are men and women saints, young and old, and saints from nearly every continent.  There are white European saints, African saints, and Native American saints. The Christian family is truly universal!


I first encountered St. Francis' writings last year, when a friend jokingly said I should take him as my patron, for he's the patron of writers. I didn't think much of it and picked up a small paperback of his writings.  After reading that book this summer, I felt steadily drawn to read more of his writings.  I've just started his classic 'Introduction to the Devout Life.'  What can you say about a writer whose work is as fresh today as it was 400 years ago?

One of the things I especially love about Francis de Sales was how people described him...courtly, courteous, a man of the world but a man of God.  He was sent into places in Switzerland where the people had left the Catholic church and become Calvinist.  Other preachers were harsh with the people; he just quietly went about his work, getting to know folks, making friends, and gradually turning hearts and minds by his gentle demeanor and friendliness.  Sometimes he said Mass in empty churches, but day after day he just went about speaking and acting the truth as he knew it, and people were drawn to him by these actions.  He wrote copiously about how we can live holy lives no matter what our station in life.  A rich prince can be just as holy as a monk; a wife and mother can live a gospel life as much as a nun.

He completely changed my understanding (or misunderstanding) of a 'holy life'.  He's showing me, 400 years after his physical person was on the earth, how to live and behave towards others with kindness, compassion and gentleness, and how it's okay - and even what Christ wants - to be yourself, and let your light shine, and that God made you the way you are for a special purpose in the kingdom, and you're just as valuable as the next guy sitting over there who may have a more important title, or more money, or whatever.

I used to think that to live a Christian life, I had to retreat to a mountaintop....I used to think that I had to be like Mother Theresa or some of our modern day saints, giving my entire life to nothing but works of mercy.  Then I read St. Francis de Sales and he basically says you can do this no matter where God put you in this life. If you're a wife and mother, be the best wife and mother you can be; if you're a steel worker, be a holy steel worker, and so on.  St. Francis shows you in his writings, step by step, how your daily life can be a testimony to God, and a gift from God to others. 

That's why saints are important.  The courtly bishop of Geneva, patron of writers like me, has a living voice 400 years later in his works that are speaking to my heart - a woman living in an age that he could never have imagined.  A living person could certainly do that today, and I bet you can point to someone in your life who inspires you.  I can, too.  But reading his works, thinking about his unique perspective on gospel life, has helped me grow in many, many ways, giving another layer of support to my own spiritual journey.

Which saint speaks to you?

Happy All Saints Day!