Sad Truths

There are many sad truths in life. We find many of them in the garden, contributing to the melancholy way we feel in fall when our natural tendency is to do a retrospective similar to the way we view the timeline of the year at New Year's. The same transitioning from one season to the next draws us into such thinking.

Actually, the inspiration for these thoughts came from the very mundane action of copying one of my older posts from here to the garden website. The sad truths of blogs are that they are even more ephemeral than most writing... the audience for blogs demands fresh new content and is loath to dig up past posts, unless a search engine happens to oblige. And so if there is a post which shouldn't get lost in the jumble of daily writings, I have started to retrieve it and put it on the website.

But back to the beginning topic, the melancholy of my garden. Don't you feel it, too? The promise of new growth and life and hope are replaced with the promise of decay, of the deep sleep and hoped for survival of cold winters. And unless you are deep in denial, you recognize the sorrow of that. I've read those who say they delight in the turn of life to death and all its natural circle, but I doubt them. I sincerely doubt that they are so resigned to such endings and I believe it is only in the hope of natures reprized thaw of spring and return of life that they are truly finding their delights.

Not that melancholic fading and demise don't have their beauty. They do, but isn't it in the full spectrum of remembering their beauty of bud and bloom, in their rivaling struggle to retain their tints of sugars and sap of the growing season? That we allow for the tints of death at all ...all emptied as it becomes of colors and its disintegration into the lost world of soils, humus, and duff is in what it may yet become.

My rejoicing in winter is that I survive its powerful hold. That my fires are warm, and my cuddled toes are deep in the wool of socks, while the drink in my hand is steaming. That I look out the frost glazed windows to a world of battered beiges and the white of frozen snow blankets from inside my little fortified walls. Waiting for the sure vanquish of winter by the surge of spring's newly warmed winds, carrying the change into a new season that I have been given the grace to experience.

But until then, that the fresh arrival of spring, the autumn and its fading colors bring a sadness that all things have an end, and the mighty efforts of one season are over and now weighed out for comparisons against all the others.

Hellebores and Friends

Sue of "A Corner Garden", which is a lovely blog, btw- I just love the picture of your garden and lovable dog, left a question on an old post... "Hellebore Happiness". I wanted to answer and not have it lost in the ole blog "back 40".

Sue wrote:

Hi Ilona,
I clicked on "hellebore" in your sidebar to find your post on it. I just discovered them in my sister's yard when she moved. They didn't all come back for her last spring, but I hunted and found different kinds at different places. I had to plant them where our grandson wouldn't get to them. Some are in moist shady places. Others are in a raised built in planter in front of our house. It's on the south side, but shaded from a large maple tree. The eave sticks out over them, so I have to water them. Whenever we don't finish our water or coffee, I'll toss it onto them. They do dry out from time to time. I am glad yours perked up after being watered. Mine just haven't put much new growth on, but are starting to now. I am excited about that.

Did you plant the ones you had inside?

Hi Sue, so glad you came to the journal here and left a comment. I love comments.

It sounds like you are doing things right for your new hellebores, and since it is something of a drier area (under the eaves always is) maybe you could mulch them with a bit of compost. It would help protect them and build up moisture retentiveness in the soil.

Hellebores are known to take a little time to settle in... so I think we need to be patient with our new plantings :)

Why, yes, I did plant those indoor plants outside and they fared very well all summer. I just checked on them the other day and they look quite nice. Of course, this winter is the acid test- it is going to be colder than usual the almanac tells us. If they live through this winter I think I'll have some prize plantings! I'll also be able to tell when the "niger" type of hellebore blooms in this zone- I am fairly sure I won't see anything during Christmas season. Already had the Lenten type and they bloom very early in the spring, but usually it is too cold for me to really go out and spend much time looking at them.

I think I will take some pictures of the new hellebore plants for my own records, though, now that I am thinking of it.

Finally: Affirmed in Saving Magazines!

Now there is no hope I will agree to throw away loved magazines... I will just have to collect enough of the same kind to have a stool...or two!

clipped from eachlittleworld.typepad.com Designer Arik Levy has come up with the perfect way to organize, file, and store my magazines in plain sight while giving me additional seating wherever I need it with his his Book Stool.

Gardening with Prairie Plants

Gardening with Prairie Plants: How to Create Beautiful Native Landscapes
by Sally Wasowski

My review on this book moved, here.

Our Prairie Home

One of the things I love about garden writers is the way they express the familiar through new eyes. I may not agree completely on their take of it, but it brings me into a new appreciation of something that I might have cataloged and then filed away in some obscure forgotten corner of my mind. In our quest for the new, we have a tendency to do that. This tendency keeps us from becoming overly parochial in our thinking, but it can also become its own little trap. Neglecting something of value and beauty just because it isn't novel, and valuing quite mundane things simply because they are novel.

So after writing my own article on "The Prairie Garden" which is a landscape form native to my area, it is with much enjoyment that I came across some lively discussion of how Europeans, in the words of Englishmen in particular, view this garden state (and for most of us, it is a garden state- having lost 99.9% of true natural prairie in our country).


Noel of "Noels Garden Blog" writes many cogent points about the European interpretation of our prairies, much of which is in response to thinkinGardens' review of "Noel Kingsbury's roundabouts". You know, those bits of planting in the busy urban thoroughfare.

One of the very best garden books I have come across, Sally Wasowski's Gardening with Prairie Plants: How to Create Beautiful Native Landscapes, says this:

"A prairie landscape can be a simple residential garden as small as a few hundred square feet, or it can be the primary vegetational expression for a whole subdivision... Or it can look more like a classic flower garden that substitutes prairie forbs and grasses for standard exotic nursery stock"

And it is in the spirit of that last suggestion that the roundabouts seem to have been planted. The flavor of the American prairie which gives Noel the literary impetus to present us this view, "So, the hypothetical American asks, why do all these Europeans so love our prairie?" To which he gives a five part answer.

Actually many of American gardeners have to ask the same hypothetical of ourselves. We so often do not know about, much less appreciate, our own native landscapes.


And so, it is educational and edifying to revisit our own landscape form through the eyes of thinking Englishmen to come roundabout to our own discoveries of our rich horticultural blessings.

I wrote a review of Wasowski's book, here.


Resources I used for this article:
Noel's Garden Blog
thinkinGardens
The Prairie Garden

Giant Pumpkins

Yesterday I watched, with a mixture of fascination and horror, the PBS documentary "Lords of the Gourd" about the lengths people will go to in growing the most gigantic pumpkin. It isn't that I couldn't identify, but that is part of the horror.

Gardening is something with hooks.

I think it is the combination of science, beauty , and nurture.... it causes us to connect on many levels and that is what makes for a great passion in life, don't you think?

The documentary followed a number of pumpkin growing aficionados in their quest for the biggest pumpkin on record and the annual contest that is held in Cooperstown. What you learn from the newspaper account is that growers also vie for the longest gourd and the biggest tomato (this year's weighed in at 2.16 pounds). I'm sure the film was done to document the dedication of the giant pumpkin grower, however; perhaps due to the Herculean lengths they will go to to accomplish their dreams of the biggest pumpkin of the season.

Besides the care, the genetics of the pumpkins are important. One grower saving seed and meticulously marking and numbering each one, after careful manipulation of the fertilization process. What patience and attention to detail!

I think the two things that fascinated me most were the man who scientifically monitored his pumpkins with an electronic sensor and all kinds of equipment in a little shed to compile the data on what conditions were during the growth of his prize pumpkins, and the woman who felt a motherly attachment to hers and surrounded her special baby with hundreds of mousetraps in a "circle of death" to the tiny predators. There is plenty of drama, too, as after all that work, sometimes bathing the pumpkin fruit with milk baths and gently attending to its daily needs, the pumpkins could explode. That sounds like a nail biting scenario, if there ever was one.

I guess where we more laissez faire gardeners of lesser competitive spirit can identify with our giant pumpkin growing cousins is in the attachment and joy we feel in the endeavor of growing something well. The challenges of understanding the plant world, the mind expanding efforts of overcoming natures challenges and unlocking her secrets.... it is something all of us in this gardening society share. Might we be a thread away from such obsession?

That was something of the scary part of this. It was all there, the drama, the conflict, and the triumph... and the love of growing things.

The competition in Cooperstown was held in early October.

Just a Word On Autumn

Yesterday as I went abroad for supplies to round out my little family party, I was struck by the way the height of Autumn had visited so suddenly. It had been announcing itself for weeks, as my photos have tried to capture, but as rain moved in and I traveled to the more protected spaces of the city my eyes were almost assaulted by the orange, gold, and scarlets of the trees and bushes.

I hurried by in the confines of the car, but wanted so much to drink up and be drunk with the color of the moment. I find my weakness is gluttony of beauty, especially the ephemeral seasonal beauty. Greedy for each view, wanting to hoard it in my mind, as if it were not the manna that it is ... not something to be kept beyond the experience of the particular day.

Perhaps the leaves were all the brighter for the gray skies and dreary drizzle which misted down. The leaves are fast falling now from the trees, and I expect we will soon be greeted by November's aspect which seems to be prematurely advancing this year.




As fine as photography is, even the most professional cannot fully capture the experience of a Midwestern, not to mention New England, fall color display. There is a certain reverberation which the October atmosphere fairly shimmers with, that is picked up by the sense and not captured in film. Maybe it is the additional layers of autumn scent, I can't say what goes into this intoxicating brew, but I know this is the reason so many of us love autumns.


On a side note: I couldn't help but pick up some last minute mums that were on sale- more for the blooms in the next year, than for any hope of this year's garden. Nothing accentuates the burst of tree colors like the chrysanthemum; but nothing rivals them, and the mums can only play second fiddle no matter how hard they vie for attention. The trees are fully regal queens and divas in this season, while merely background or supporting players in other times of year.

I love trees. And Autumn is their finest hour.

More Fairy Houses

clipped from cindeesgarden.blogspot.com

My Autumn #2

After some frosts and cooler weather the leaves have turned and my yard has more color. The hostas are especially bright, and surprisingly the foliage of the lily of the valley are also a bright yellow.

~~~//~~~
I suppose I should follow through and identify the pictures :)

Upper left is a picture of a self seeded maple from the container of another plant. I had bought it in fall and the color was pretty, my dog had died and so it is planted over the bones of Old Fritz. A good dog who liked to help "herd" the chickens back into the chicken coop. It is probably a Red Maple.

Second down is the shiny red crabapple fruit of Malus sp. 'Prairiefire'


Next down is the foliage of the Kousa dogwood, a burnished, soft red.

Last in the row is my driveway planting. 'Diablo' physocarpus far left, sedum variegatum turned a pale yellow above that is moss phlox which becomes golden tinged, the euphorbia 'Bonfire',dianthus gray leaves, and the blue of the Blue Star Juniper.

Top next row:
Sweet Gum showing more color now, although the same sort of tree in the foreground is still mostly green.

Next down is a small Kousa framed by an arbor and maple tree.

Third down is the goldflame spirea- which turns a pretty range of pinkish coral through a hue of red.

Bottom is a view of various maples with globe arborvitae hedge in the foreground.

Third row from left, top:
Annabelle hydrangea which has rustic tints.

A frost blasted hosta is next down.

Third down in the row is a view through the yellow leaves of the mock orange, with a spot of the golden hosta foliage.

Bottom of that row is the good color of the 'Hansa' Rugosa rose.

Top of the next row: melange of maples.

The yellow colors of Amelanchier canadensis, a shrubby little plant that holds its foliage longer than its cousin, laevis, which has lost its leaves already. It never really grew very large.

Larger view of the mock orange sandwished between the V. burkwoodii, which has no real fall color, and the dull lilac.

At bottom are the silver maples sporting yellow.

Last row right top:
Leftover asters, but most are blasted by the frosts.

Second down, the 'Royal Standard' hostas around the tree.

Third down is the golden yellow of the lily of the valley foliage and the feverfew which blooms for a very long time here.

Next down is the hydrangea 'Tardiva' in goldenrod tints. and last, another view of it against the background of the Sweet Gum.

My Autumn #1

This is a pictorial of my autumn landscape from after the first cool days, but before the first hard frost. To know more of the plants... as they say, read on.

The berries of the top left are from Viburnum carlesii, my favorite viburnum I think. My fav today, anyway. The berries below are the weed, Pokeweed. Top far right, is the Euphorbia "Bonfire", gorgeous in all seasons, but especially in fall.
Top middle are new plantings of "Jack Frost" Brunnera with Foxglove, and the Michaelmas daisies after they have been jack frosted for the first time which withers but does not completely destroy the flower color. Our good wood supply for what portends to be a mighty cold winter. Below which you see to the left the always lovely "Endless Summer" hydrangea- autumn tints of the most beautiful rose; and the sweet gum tree (Liquidambar styraciflua -fact PDF) just coming into color.

The fringe tree to the right is showing a tinge of color, it is in its golden yellow phase only now. Then larger view from different angle with a leftover calendula which likes to bloom up until hard frosts fell it. Next, a view of the new "Morning Light" miscanthus against the spreading taxus , under the "Prairiefire" crab, which didn't fruit as well this year. ending with a view of the blue spruce which will remain that ghostly bluegray throughout the winter season.

Trees I Grow

[originally posted 10/19/07]

When I moved to my place here in the country, there were precious few trees on the property. Back in the seventies the farmers had determinedly cleared the land for more production. Obscene production I call it, but anyway... I decided first off to plant more trees.

What I didn't know was how difficult it would be, but now many years down the line I have some that survived and they have changed the landscape here. Different birds, changed light conditions, different garden chores are a few of those changes.

Here are some of the deciduous trees growing within my yard:


Silver Maples: I didn't plant these, and I don't like silver maples very much, but they are fast growers and people of the past seem to have loved them, because there are plenty throughout the territory around here. These are the largest and oldest trees on the property. Clear yellow fall color.

Red Maples: I have one large one that was here and planted some on the back part of the property, they are similar to the silvers in some ways, but a little more elegant in growth and with cherry red autumn color. That is their one fine virtue.

Norway Maple: grown in the ash grove. These are graceful, deep green foliaged trees. I wouldn't put them in a garden area because their greedy roots make life hell for perennials, but they are very nice out in the field or by the street. Gold fall color.

Scarlett Oak: one of the first trees I planted, it is a very slow grower, but I appreciate it because it is an oak, one of my favorite trees. I plant oaks for posterity.

Burr Oak: one small one I planted and one larger one that grew from cast off acorns from the old tree the former owner felled. I don't get to see my own trees much because they are in out of the way places in the yard, but these are the native trees to this area and they grow into great, craggy, gorgeous trees -eventually. I enjoy viewing the Savannah-like plantations that grow on some of the farms around here. I am saddened when I see how many die and are cut down.

Green Ash: someday down the road the Emerald Ash borer is going to get them, but these are the trees that survived the drought conditions under which I tried to plant many small trees many years ago. They are about fifteen years old and grow in a grove on the back corner of the property. I would be happy about them except for the Damocles sword of those borers... Yellow fall color and fast growers.

Mulberries: again, they were here. They grow just like weeds, seeding themselves everywhere. The most charitable thing I can say is that they attract birds away from the cherries. That is the plan, anyway.

Fruit trees: some of the first I planted, the Sweet cherries have lasted longer than the sour ones. I lost two of those in the past few years, and the peaches have been short lived here. Apples do well, and I have a few antique varieties, and two that grew from seedlings. One lone pear tree which is unhappy since I allowed the grape vines to grow over it.

Red bud trees: these are fairly new plantings, but have done very well and the ones by the evergreens look truly beautiful in spring.

Chinese dogwoods: surviving, but not thriving. these are lovely trees, which are supposed to bloom eventually. They need more acid pH and moisture than they get in my garden. As is true of the regular dogwood I grow. That is suffering, as well, but blooms well. Even if it hadn't been a hard year for trees these past few seasons, the dogwoods would still struggle without help from ironrite and watering frequently.

Fringe trees:most of these are doing well, but the one exposed to the farmers chemicals looks almost done for. They like my garden and bloom beautifully. Fall color is clear golden yellow with little gray blue olive shaped berries.

Amelanchier: I grow two types, and they bloom well in spring. Some years they have loads of berries, which don't taste like much to us, but the birds like them. Usually a gorgeous mesh of orangey-red in the fall.

Sycamore: I have one that I planted in the back part of the property. It grew large quite fast and is a very fine rural garden tree. Yellow fall color.

Crabapples: wonderful trees for my garden, even if they suffer a bit from leaf drop in the summer. The flowers in spring, and the good form of the trees make these my favorite ornamental tree. I grow several types, Prairie fire and Snowdrift, weeping Red Jade. Golden fall color, beautiful persistent red fruits.

Contorted filbert: I love these trees, I have two, and they are the best thing for the winter landscape. They do have water sprouts and the new influx of the Japanese beetle plague have skeletonized the leaves, but no matter what, I would grow them. Their green catkins in spring, and their twisted curly twigs make them artistic and attractive.

Weeping willow: I planted these much to the consternation of my neighbor, but I love their sweeping willow withes :) I know they are weak trees, I know they invade drain systems, but I like them. This is a tree I planted only in recent years- the growth was phenomenal. Pale yellow fall color.

Love Good Tools

I want one of these!

clipped from ahamodernliving.com Now, how to extract all that gooey goodness from the inside, so that you can make your own pumpkin desserts, or a jack-o-lantern? Try the super versatile Soil Scoop (below.) The serrated edge and pointed tip are designed for a wide variety of garden tasks, from weeding to chopping to planting. But check it out; this tool will also be totally perfect for scooping out pumpkin guts, and even scraping all the stringy pieces off of the inside. The Soil Scoop even comes in both green and purple, so they’re not just cute, but easy to spot in your yard or tool chest.

Without Words: Daytrip to Conkles Hollow

Prepare yourself for loads of pictures.

Conkles Hollow; Frosty Ohio

The beginning, "Now entering Conkle's Hollow State Park"

Saturday night gave the first hard frost, and Sunday afternoon was sunny and perfectly autumn, so the family packed up and went to Conkle's Hollow for the day. Usually we spend our time in Old Man's Cave in the same area, but decided to try the more challenging hike (though shorter) in this less "improved" area of Hocking Hills.

There was quite a crowd in the parking lot when we arrived, and even more in the Old Man's Cave area when we drove by there. A nice Sunday afternoon during mid October is everyone's idea of a day trip to see fall leaves and hike the hills, it seems.

And it was beautiful.

Conkle's Hollow has trails that can be dangerous and the beginning trek up is steep. I was winded. We had forgotten the hiking sticks, so my husband found a suitable substitute and that helped tremendously. While the climb is much higher, and the landscape has similarities, it doesn't have the Lord of the Rings vibe that you experience in the gorge and trails of Old Man's Cave. I did love the panoramic views once I got used to the trail on the edge of the world, and death defying trekking on a literal rim.

An interesting fellow traveler, named Russel, who remembered his very special walking stick.

We didn't quite make the full technicolor autumn display that this area is known for, but there was enough color and that nice bite to the air that made it an ideal day trip. I took pictures, but had to pass up the best of the ones on the road- there aren't alot of opportunities to stop and although I opened up the moon roof- it didn't help and we pulled over for a shot or two of decidedly second best scenes. My mind's eye gets all the #1's.

In some small ways the walk along such a trail reminds me of the Hana Highway drive in Maui: paths/roads on the edge of hair raising heights, polite waits for one way while trekkers coming the other way pass carefully.

I could take all day inspecting the mosses.

It was just the right amount of walking, and the climb down the very steep incline was negotiated with steps. Next time, though, I think I should have actual hiking boots instead of my tennis shoes. It would give better traction on the damp wooden steps and on the bare stone places. The trail walk was only 2.5 miles, but it was plenty of a work-out for me.

A tree on the edge.



Then it was home...

We had to stop for some of the famous Laurelville cider, and on a whim, gave the Renicks Farm Market a quick visit, too. Acres of pumpkins, and we took away some goat milk's fudge, blackberry cobbler bread, and some blackberry butter. The kids got their penny (in name only) candy. Noticed that Circleville was setting up for their famous Pumpkin Festival which takes place next week.

Hopefully I'll be up to doing some garden cleanup tomorrow- it is overdue. AND I bought about 100 tulip bulbs that I need to plant. I always tell myself: I'll be happy I did that next spring;)

thoughts: one gardener's journey

i once had almost an acre in vegetable gardens. i built and dug in at least 3 large
compost piles a year and planned and double-dug and built up so many raised beds.
i worked out there hours every day, getting tired and dirty....i loved it.
i grew or tried to grow everything i fancied in the many catalogs. some desired
plants were just not happy in the ga.heat. rhubarb, cherry trees...
things that failed, i crossed off my lists. i grew all the 'common' garden veggies,
and i always planted a huge corn patch, [hand-hoed]
and much more food than i ever needed...giving away was a given,
work was more like play, and every new discovery such a thrill.

one year,i threw blackeyed peas out into the corn patch, and they ran wild up
the stalks. the deer DIDN'T eat them all that year, but it was like crawling in a
thick, humid jungle to pick both the peas and corn. that was one of many of my
experiments planting legumes with anything...i found "double cropping" the beds
increased yields, but could often be a pain in the butt to keep the beds weeded,
also to get everything properly harvested. mixed planting 'mini-environments'
are said to be beneficial and i still interplant legumes-green beans- and flowers
-all kinds of marigolds-as well as different aromatic herbs everywhere; they are far less exuberant than the wild black-eyed peas and winter peas!

i guess, my point in this ramble, is that we all are super-energized as we begin
our long affair with our gardens. testing all our armchair readings and theories,
finding what will or won't grow, hauling manure, making lots of compost, building
the soil and its tilth, landscaping, transplanting [even big things] and moving
things around, starting seedlings and rooting your own plants. the list goes on and on.
we're eager to explore different concepts and discoveries. we have the strength and endurance to "dig in" to everything to be learned and tested in creating our own life of garden "practice"

over the years, my garden process is changing to one of subtracting.. paring
down and winnowing out certain time/space wasters-- removing things i just had
a hard time growing or didnt really flourish in my garden environment.
i have become both more knowledgeable and complacent...and selective with my
crop choices each year.
for example:
there are 2 generations of squash vine borer, so you must replant and harvest
several different times. or give it up after that first fruiting and pull it. i have always had more than enough field rats to eat on any and all the melons that i tried to grow.

the yellows illness that often affects cukes as well, is very happy in our hot
humid weather. viruses and bugs and blights can thrive in these fecund, often
steamy overheated garden spaces in the south.
everyone told me: "you just CANT grow organic down here!"
so i planted alot in a big space, and there was generally enough food
for the various invaders and for me and my son. good healthy soil grew good healthy
plants... all that compost helped everything withstand insects and illness. vigilant bug patrols with a pail of oil, and wood-ash, cayenne or garlic powder dusting have been good pest controls. i have had much more trouble with 4-legged
problems- deer, rabbits, goats that escape their pasture.

it seems to me that the driving force pushing us to put in more and more land into
garden space, shrubs, and flowerbeds changes as we are-at last- entirely familiar and
comfortable with our piece of earth and all its seasonal changes. i found myself
relaxing and refining, planting less space, and not growing every vegetable on earth!
being choosey has great benefits--
changing the garden plan gave me more time to care for it all much more tenderly.
quality rather than quantity....the time saved picking/putting up/selling all summer
meant much more pleasant time for me to pickle and can and jelly.
i began to focus on only a few things to grow for marketing-- organic specialties
that brought in more income than the baskets of organic green beans, peppers
and tomatoes i used to harvest and haul to the farm market.

this post began as a reply to ilona's email declaring she is so behind with so many
different garden tasks. she has always got many irons in the fire... garden-wise
along with her blogs and e-presence. plus being a major mom, and teacher....
i cannot begin to visualize her busy life, and i know i could never sustain
such a pace as she does. my thoughts for her [and to all veteran gardeners]
are that slowing down and paring down our many tasks and projects might be
a good idea. fewer preoccupations makes room for the time to fully enjoy our work,
and to accomplish our chosen garden jobs unhurried...so as to give our full attention
to each growing thing in our care.
plus more time to savor the sunshine and the smell of the fresh dug earth.

this is either older-and-wiser OR simply older talking...my slower-paced
lifestyle was, and is a deliberate choice. my goals here on this farm were to
live simply and cheaply, to grow enough fresh food for my small family to
eat healthy ...my first years were devoted to serious soil improvement, which
i have written about here on this blog ['making dirt',etc]. all sorts of organic
amendments were incorporated, copious compost and various manures.
the many plowdowns of green manure clover, winter peas, beans those first years,
and THEN beginning to plan out and plant big gardens.... work work work!
the 'selling-organic-produce-and-herbs' phase grew out of that [pardon the pun]
and my workload increased. in my 'prime time', i had boundless energy and
spent it all every day. i am proud to have been a farmer.

these days, i tend a much smaller garden. my long-term asparagus venture has
been a good income success for years. the hard work of planting 23 years ago
is paying off nicely these days. this spring i put in 20 more plants- an investment
in the future for me, or the next gardener who comes after me......
there are now health food co-ops who will buy organic produce for a good price.
i have seen the foodie world turn to "fresh-local-organic", and i have finally
reached a time of good return for all my work.

the process of elimination has actually brought me many rewards.
i enjoy much more time with the landscape, the flowers and shrubs. my yard is
much improved, the bonsai get much-needed time, and my back is much happier!
i feel i have come full circle. as my gardens grew and matured so did their steward
fall happily in love with her place in the country. i have settled comfortably into
the ebb and flow of all life here at patagonia farm......the circle of my world.

vty, j-lea

I Got Obsessed with Apples

Sorry Dear Readers, I can't help myself. Apples are a favorite fruit, and I went looking for others who love it and/or are writing about it during this season. If you share my enthusiasm you may have hit the jackpot for indulging in recipes and other things "apple".

Outdoor Cooking Guild has grilling tips but that is not what drew me...noooo, it was the apple dumpling recipe illustrated temptingly on the page. From there to the apple smoke flavor dumplings.



Sweet apple memories. Some haiku, as well.

Cute pictures...not a few them centered around The Apple. Not surprising since it is called The Lunchbox Project!

Cheeses and Fermented Apple Cider

Ginger Apple Preserves, anyone?

“Even if I knew that tomorrow the world would go to pieces, I would still plant my apple tree.”
Martin Luther

-found along with much history, sayings, and fun on APPLES! The pièce de résistance of my posted links.

Not the Candy Apples I Remember!

But quite beautiful in their own way.

clipped from mattbites.com I walked back into the kitchen to find the most beautiful candied apples before me.  Black glossy cinnamon-scented candied glass enveloped small apples, twigs became their handles, and a few shockingly red candied apples only made their black counterparts more ominous. It was halloween on a silpat, a spooky forest that completed my cocktail.

Here is the recipe:
Red & Black Candy Apples

8-10 medium sized apples
8-10 wooden twigs, twimmed
3 cups granulated sugar
1/2 cup light corn syrup
1 cup of water
several drops of cinnamon flavored oil
1/4 teaspoon of red food coloring
1/4 teaspoon of black food coloring
Clean and dry the apples. Try to remove as much of the wax as possible. If you purchase them from your local farmer’s market then chances are they have not been treated with the food grade wax that makes then shine. Remove any stems or leaves and insert a twig into the end of each apple. To facilitate easier twig entry you can carefully sharpen the end of the twig or use a candy stick to create a guide hole. Set apples aside.

Heat and stir sugar, corn syrup and water in a saucepan until sugar has dissolved. Boil until the syrup reaches 300 degrees on a candy thermometer. Don’t go over 310 degrees or your candy burns and then you’ll be sad.

Remove from heat and stir in flavored oil and food coloring.

Dip one apple completely in the syrup and swirl it so that it becomes coated with the melted sugar candy. Hold the apple above the saucepan to drain off excess. Place apple, with the stick facing up, onto a baking sheet that’s greased or lined with a silpat. Repeat the process with the remaining apples. If your syrup thickens or cools too much, simply reheat briefly before proceeding. Let the apples cool completely before serving.

In Celebration of The Apple

Reprising all the good things about apples from past posts and a video about growing apples organically. and a few new things, too.

My favorite apple cake is a Hungarian one, not too sweet, but rich with the flavor of the apples, nuts, and sour cream.

One of the easiest recipes for apples would be to slice them up and saute them with a little butter, a bit of brown sugar, cinnamon, and mace and serve them beside just about anything. Cook down just til the sugar caramelizes a little. You can use whatever your favorite apple pie spices might be, I like them with the cinnamon and mace.

Apple varieties to look for. Cox Orange Pippin? Royal Gala is the modern form of this oldtime apple variety.



My "Happy Thoughts" blog celebrates Apple Cider Time. It points you to informative links like... "What is Real Cider?"

Characteristics of "CIDER"

* not be pasteurized before or after fermentation
* not be filtered
* not receive enzyme treatment
* not contain preservatives or coloring
* not have the natural yeast replaced by a cultured yeast
* not have a nitrogen source added unless essential to start fermentation
* not be diluted
* only contain sweeteners if labeled Medium or Sweet, and then only if they are shown to be safe and do not affect the taste
* be produced from only freshly-pressed fruit, and
* not contain concentrate
* not contain extraneous carbon dioxide


...and...
2nd category:
* not be entirely made from concentrate
* not contain extraneous carbon dioxide

The difference between apple juice and apple cider.
Good cider varieties? Do any of these sound familiar?
For us, this info:

...any apple variety can be pressed into cider. American cider has always relied on a blend of several varieties . Some apples favored by old-time cider makers include American Pippin, Baldwin, Black Oxford, Bullock, Esopus Spitzenberg, Golden Russet, Roxbury Russet, Smith Cider, Sops of Wine, Wagener, and Winesap. These varieties would generally fall in the "Sweet" or "Sweet-Sharp" categories. Likewise, high-flavored European culinary and dessert varieties like Ashmead'sKernel, Bramley's Seedling, Court Pendu Plat, and Egremont Russet are very suitable for cider blends. And while most modern varieties are a bit bland for great cider, Etter apples like Waltana, Katharine, and Etter's Gold can hold their own with the older heirlooms.




Three hybrid "crabs": Atalanta's Gold™, Etter's Gold, and Dolgo


The main fault with varieties listed above is a deficiency in the bitter, tannic element. Indeed, connoisseurs have frequently criticized American hard cider for lacking the body and savor that derives from tannin. In the old days, the bitter component could be acquired from the "wild" seedling apples and crabs that sprouted up all over the American landscape. Henry David Thoreau's essay Wild Apples documents the qualities of these feral fruits for cider blending .


To affirm his championship of small apples and crabs, Thoreau cited the British horticulturalist John Claudius Loudon (1783-1843) on the subject of cider:


" No wonder that these small and high-colored apples are thought to make the best cider. Loudon quotes from the Herefordshire Report that 'Apples of a small size are always, if equal in quality, to be preferred to those of a larger size, in order that the rind and kernel may bear the greatest proportion to the pulp'...."


From Wild Fruits 1859 by Henry David Thoreau (1817-1862)

Revisiting past autumns

The circle of the seasons means we have a rhythm that brings our four measures of time with its ever variable melody, yet repeated sequence, around once again. It is time for autumn to play its movement, and close out our growing year. That being so, here are some posts of past autumns that might give you something fresh today.

October 2, '08

Years ago I wrote a bit about how fall color sometimes surprises me. Here in the Midwest we are surrounded by the rich tapestry of autumn trees and goldenrod field flowers, but sometimes overlook the many other forms of fall color. It is a great time to take your camera and notebook and make notes about plants that add to the end season picture- the last hurrah of the garden's bright colors.

October Poems

William Cullen Bryant, Lillian Jamison , Mary Oliver

Savoring Autumn

My autumn is misty and grayed in the mornings, and as I sip my coffee I view the diagonal sifting of the leaves from the overhead trees. It seems as lazy as I feel on these mornings, languid and savoring the details of my existence.

...

I took a few picture of my garden today...

Nomenclature to just keep us on our toes.

Symphyotrichum... three guesses what old flower that new designation labels. Give up? Asters. Just plain old new world asters like the "aster novae-angliae". Profiled here, properly, I'm afraid I used the old name when I wrote about asters in September. While researching for writing I also discovered that the autumn clematis had another name change, as well. It is C. ternifolia, now.

To trace it through some of its mutations:

Synonym:Clematis maximowicziana
Synonym:Clematis paniculata
Synonym:Clematis chinensis
Synonym:Clematis dioscoreifolia
Synonym:Clematis thunbergii


Sometimes that is just plain confusing. What might be even more confusing is that we have a native plant that looks the same and is commonly called the same name of "autumn sweet clematis". It is Clematis virginiana.

I highlighted sweet autumn clematis as a favorite plant, and I believe mine is the Japanese plant C. ternifolia. People seem to have a love or hate relationship with this vine. Personally, I love it.

Getting back to official plant names... I really find it annoying when they change perfectly fine names like aster to symphyotrichum. Maybe we will get lucky and the powers that be will change it to something that rolls off the tongue more easily, Yes, yes, I know. There are good reasons to change the labels.

Horticulture uses a method called binomial nomenclature. Botanical names have three parts: genus,a descriptive word, which create the two-name binomial, and the cultivar. Cultivars are the named varieties we like so well when plant shopping. I guess I shouldn't complain about asters, it seems that the Chrysanthemum genus was split into eight different genera.

Here are a few more names that scientists have fiddled with: Changes to the Scientific Nomenclature in Newcomb's Wildflower Guide

I liked what Karan Davis Cutler had to say about the aster's name change

Their new taxonomic assignment, Symphyotrichum, is a result of molecular research that left “Old World” asters as asters. but moved all but one North American asters into other genera.

The consensus is that the new genus name is pronounced sim-fy-oh-TRY-kum, an appellation that doesn’t exactly roll off the lips. Poems aren’t the same when “sim-fy-oh-TRY-kum” is substituted for “aster.” The change comes from the same experts who changed Chrysanthemum to Dendranthema and then back to Chrysanthemum, and turned Coleus blumei, good old painted nettle, to Solenostemon scutellarioides. Try saying that three times fast. Or slow.

Fortunately, these taxonomists meet only every five years.

LOL! My feeling exactly.

Gladys Tabor's Wry Yankee Wit

Gladys Tabor was a beloved writer of my mother's generation. She had a homely, yet penetrating way of observing her small world filled with common daily chores. That is one of the things we can love about her writing... and some things are quite true in any generation it seems... which is what makes for good writing. People still love her books Stillmeadow Road and Stillmeadow and Sugarbridge.

enjoy:

In our part of the country, nobody is ever quite sure where the boundaries of the land are. Old fences, long since gone, or gray rocks, or a certain dead chestnut tree, or a brook which may have changed its course, these mark the edge of one's property. Now and then a surveyor may scramble around a day or so and deliver an expensive piece of paper, but the farm folk go right back on using the woodland or picking the grapes where they always have, and this is as it should be. We do not own the land, the land owns us. The survey we had when we wanted to turn over land to George for his house was like a Christmas present, for it turned out we had considerably more than forty acres, enough to let William,George's brother, have a house too.

Once in a while I try to picture what life in the country might have been if George and William had not lived right across the road, and then I know the main thing in buying an old house in the country is to settle near good neighbors. The natives on our valley are not the quaint folk so many writers talk about; the only quaint folk around here are the few city week-enders, and some of them are quaint enough for any fiction.

The color for October is pink due to Breast Cancer awareness. I think Tabor found just the insight for pink:

“Almost all words do have color and nothing is more pleasant than to utter a pink word and see someone’s eyes light up and know it is a pink word for him or her too” ~Gladys Taber

When someone reviewed her book, 'Stillmeadow and Sugarbridge', they described it this way:
"The two women writing to each other here are great friends, share a deep love of country (call themselves 'countrywomen') and aren't embarrassed to savor the smallest available joys." Made me feel that that is something like Joanne and I ...only I am very poor at dependably writing hard copy letters. but we are "countrywomen" for sure... in the best sense of being in touch with the earth and rejoicing in its gifts to us.

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Pickets: Seagrove's Secret Little Garden

This is the arched trellis arbor that caught my eye as we were driving back along Highway 30-A to our home base after visiting "Seaside" and buying the T-shirt;)

I begged my husband to "just stop for a minute" to let me get a picture of that garden. He obliged, but little did he, or me for that matter, realize that I was about to go down a rabbit trail to a little piece of Wonderland.


I tentatively stood at the outside of the garden and started taking pictures of the charming birdhouse mailbox, then peeking over the hedge and past the arched arbor I followed the dusty brick road and barged right in, no, make that fell down the rabbit hole after the white rabbit. "Just a few pictures can't hurt", I thought. I snapped a few of lovely little vignettes before realizing: this was a gift shop! I felt slightly better about trespassing for my gluttonous desire of garden pictures for my dear blog readers (yes, I will blame it on you...it was all for you!)

Inside was a display of tasteful treasures in all the colors that I have come to love ... the colors of sand and sea and roses, beach sunrises, and turquoise waters. Soon joined by another customer, I remembered the family out in the car, but then struck up conversation with a Southern gentleman, who humbly says he is just married to the creator of this gardened place, so full of unique personality and Southern grace.

It was Jo Ann Mathis and her mother who began and then filled this garden with the butterfly spangled plantings, the small circular Victorian garden, and the shady seating surrounded by blooms. She runs the shop that is filled with shelves of pretty things. I learned that I was not the first to want to photograph this place. Mary Englebreit had also been drawn into this intimate and quiet place off of the busy thoroughfare... her people didn't even have to stage anything I'm told. And I believe it... as you can see from even my amateur pictures.





You can see the birdhouse mailbox that drew my interest and the arched arbor in the background. I would have liked to have stayed and gotten an interview and more pictures, but my tired family was waiting and I found they were actually worried that the garden behind the gate had swallowed me whole! I apologized profusely and went away with the satisfaction of seeing a garden that personal love and creativity had built.

They say there is buried treasure in these parts, all I know is that this little gift shop and its garden are really gems in Seagrove, Florida, along the Emerald Coast.




If you wish to visit Pickets gift shop, it is located at the corner of Nightcap St. and 30-A in Seagrove.
Open from 10-5 on Tues. thru Sat.
Jo Ann Mathis' business number is 850.231.2036



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