ASPARAGUS AND WINE - Nothing Can Go Wrong!

May 24th and May 25th of May is National Asparagus Day and National WINE day respectively! Now, give me a good steak, or grilled salmon, or a pulled pork dish with asparagus and wine, and I’m in seventh heaven.

From everything I could find about asparagus, it has been used as a vegetable for not only eating, but also for its medicinal properties as a diuretic and as a purported aphrodisiac. It is pictured as an offering on an Egyptian frieze dating to 3000 B.C. It was known in Syria, Iberia, and to the Greeks and Romans who ate it fresh or dried it for winter use. My neighbor raises a variety of asparagus every spring and generously gives me a taste. Many people will tell you a person either loves asparagus or hates it. Which one are you?                                                                       

Now the idea of a national wine day is something everyone can get behind. There are over 10,000 varieties of different grape wines in the world that fit into the classifications of red, white, rose, sparkling, or dessert wines.  Since I’m a fan of Mexican food, I’m a fan of sangria which uses red wine and fruit juices. For a simple glass without any embellishments, I tend to like white wines. If you are an enthusiast of wine, what are your choices?

In celebration of the month that brings us flowers, I think I’ll finish this blog post, and the other household and writing chores, and wander over to the kitchen this evening where the wine is stored. What’s better than finding a comfortable chair, a good book, and a delicious glass of wine to end the day?

Cheers!

UNDER STARRY SKIES 

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Do you like humor and mystery combined? Under Starry Skies is the stand-alone intriguing sequel to my very first western, mystery, and romance, Red Fox Woman. Set in 1875 in the West, it’s a fast-paced read with a quiet rancher, determined schoolmarm, and wily Indian who wants to learn to read.

HERE COMES SUMMER..with its sights, scents, and sounds!

In June, I patiently search for the first signs of summer.

Listen closely, and you can hear the birdsong at sunrise. It’s the doves at our house who start the calliope of song if we leave our bedroom windows open. The nosy robins are back, nesting under our deck and in the rhododendron. Their first fledglings have already been booted out of the nest and intermittently (and annoyingly) squawk, calling for a parent. The brazen sparrows have also returned and have kicked the bluebirds out of their nesting box. Only one lone hummingbird visits our feeder.

Rain in June is a silver spoon as the old adage goes. It’s the month when vegetation emerges and gardens in the North are planted which will yield bountiful crops throughout the next four months and into fall. This year, my bucket garden has been watered quite often by the gray clouds hovering in the sky. I decided to change it up a bit. I’m growing some herbs: lemon thyme, rosemary, oregano, and parsley. Every year I grow a plant of basil on the patio.

The flower of June is the rose which is my favorite because of its soft, layered petals and delicate scent.

I was lucky to be born on a scorching, 90+ degree, June day—the last one of the month—right in the middle of haying season, as my Dad used to point out with a slight grumble in his voice.

When June arrives, farmers push hard during the sweltering sunny days to get a hay field cut, dried, and baled. The sweet and intoxicating scent of newly mowed grass fills the air and forces everyone near to pause and enjoy it, even if the work of cutting, baling, and storing it is hot, intense, and tiresome.

Do you have favorite sights, scents, and sounds of summer?

As poet James Russell Lowell so aptly writes about the month:

And what is so rare as a day in June?

Then, if ever, come perfect days;
Then Heaven tries the earth if it be in tune,

And over it softly her warm ear lays: 

Whether we look, or whether we listen,

We hear life murmur, or see it glisten…

                                    ~ James Russell Lowell – 1819-1891

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HELLO, APRIL!

 I’m the first to admit that I enjoy April.

April is when all the flowers from bulbs beneath the sleepy earth emerge. Daffodils, crocus, wind flowers, and small grape hyacinths bring color, scent, and life back to the flowerbeds.

I think back to my childhood and how my mother loved plants and bushes of all types. We were a  farm family, and  it was not unusual to visit a neighbor’s house and go home with a piece of a bush, or some shoots wrapped in a wet rag, or a bundle of roots tied up in a burlap feed bag. Mother always found a place to plant her treasures and nurse them to maturity. And the favor was returned when friends, relatives, and neighbors came to call and left with a clump of rhubarb or day lilies.

At the front corner of my house, I still have trumpet vines from cuttings my mother gave me decades ago. Every fall we chop them back to stubby trunks, and in the spring they explode in a flourish of leaves and blossoms that entice the hummingbirds.

In the back yard, I have a bed of rag roses from around an old stone foundation of a house built in the early 1800s and situated along a well-used route westward. Everyone always referred to the cleared, often muddy pathway as “The Old Road.”

And, my favorite from our farm is at the side of my house—a large clump of Jack in the Pulpits my mother coddled in one of her flowerbeds.

April brings back lots of good memories. It’s a time of warm days, a time to get ready for spring planting and, for those of us who like to play in the dirt, it’s a month of sheer joy.

I’ll end with a colloquialism that the farmers often used in northeastern Pennsylvania: “So long, March. Hello, April!”

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Welcome August!

Welome August! Along the roadways of Pennsylvania, goldenrod and salvia have begun to bloom in yellows and purples.

For many people, the month of August signals the arrival of the end of summer in the Northern Hemisphere that includes the Dog Days of Summer. The eighth month of the modern calendar, August has thirty-one days.

In the original ten-month Roman calendar, August was the sixth month (with 30 days) and was originally named Sextilis. In 8 BC, the Roman Senate rewarded Octavian Augustus a month in his honor. The founder and first emperor of the Roman Empire, Octavian Augustus, selected Sextilis, which under the Julian calendar was the eighth month with the addition of January and February. An additional day was tacked on to August to balance the total days in the year.

Best known for its hot and humid days, August lures people to pools and beaches to cool off before schools begins at the end of the month—or the beginning of September.

 

August’s birthstones are the peridot and spinel. Peridot is a semi-precious olive or lime-green stone found in lava flows and veins from the United States to Finland and Pakistan, among others. In shades of pink, red, blue, violet and lavender, spinel is a more recent addition to the August birthstones.

 

Flowers for August are the gladiolus and poppy. The gladiolus is sometimes referred to as the sword lily because of its long, skinny shape. Both flowers are said to reflect strength of character and imagination. 

 

And during these trying times, as we enter the sixth month of the Coronavirus pandemic, strength of character and imagination may be what we need the most.

Check Out a Fun Summer Read!                                                      

JUNE has busted out all over!

June has busted out all over. With all the wet stuff falling from the sky, the month has lived up to the phrase, “Rain in June is a silver spoon.”

The landscape centers and greenhouses are stuffed with trays of flowers and potted plants. My neighborhood is a kaleidoscope of flowerbeds, filled with marigolds, petunias, dianthus, and other vibrant blossoms  Even my frosted ferns have sent up fiddle heads that have unfurled into leafy fronds, ’though not as high and lush as in other years.

In the wisteria beside out backdoor deck, the robins have hatched three little ones and are busy feeding them. This year we have a robin's nest in the rhododendrons and bushes on four sides of our house. Here is a little one that fell into one of our buckets and was rescued by my husband. 

And speaking of birds, my feeders with sunflower seeds, mixed songbird seed, and Nyjer seed are emptied each day. The pesky, unruly grackles, perching in the adjacent treetops and singing their creaking, grating songs, have found a way to balance upside down on the suit cake and try their best to devour it before the woodpeckers.

I’m especially proud of my bucket garden which is thriving. It’s a work in progress. I’m learning the ropes and have my fingers crossed. We already have lettuce and parsley.  

What do I miss most about the month of June? The sweet smell of new mown alfalfa or clover drying in the farm fields.  Maybe it’s time to take a ride into the countryside nearby to find a hay field and get the repetitious, famous lyrics of Carousel by Rogers and Hammerstein out of my head:  just because it’s June, June, June!

Before I forget, HUCKLEBERRY HAPPINESS 

                                                             releases on the 24th as well. 

                                                     PREORDER:  https://tinyurl.com/y9q7lr33

 

Bucket Gardens in May

"It's May, it's May, the lusty month of May
That lovely month when everyone goes blissfully astray
It's here, it's here, that shocking time of year,
When tons of wicked little thoughts merrily appear."
                Lusty Month of May - from Camelot

Despite the snow, despite the rain, May is the time when those with a bit of farming gene in their blood start thinking about spring gardens as they sit in their recliners in the evening and pour over stacks of seed catalogs. They are anxious and ready, and they know there is magic in the month of May. Soon it will be planting time and the excitement of growing vegetables and flowers is as exhilarating today as it was for their ancestors centuries and centuries ago. Seeds are united with soil, sun, air and water to create the miracle of life.

This year, I’ve convinced my husband into making me a bucket garden stand from two-by-four lumber. It consists of two-levels of raised shelves where five-gallon, plastic buckets—filled with soil, seeds, or plants—stand above ground to make gardening simple and easy. I’ve added a picture here, but it’s not my stand.

I’m pondering what plants I want to grow, but I know for sure that two buckets will be filled with tomato plants, one will be a basil plant, and another will be seeded with yellow squash. Since mine is an eight bucket stand, I have time to come up with some other choices, including one bucket that may be filled with flowers. I can’t wait to smell the soil, stand in the sunshine, and get some dirt under my fingernails. As soon as our creation is finished, I'll be sure to post a picture.

Now, all we have to do is chase this rainy, cold weather away, and let the lusty magical month of May arrive with all its blossoms, bird songs, and beauty.  

Coming June 24th - HUCKLEBERRY HAPPINESS 

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"Rain in June is a silver spoon."

There is an old farmer’s saying, “Rain in June is a silver spoon,” and “A good rain in June sets all in tune.” This year, I think we all can easily say that the rains are welcome to stop for a little while and let the earth dry.

 

I’m going to be honest. June is one of my favorite months of the year. It’s my birthday month, but it ushers in the beginning of summer and warmer, sun-drenched days ahead.

Across our Central Pennsylvania landscape, the grass in the fields is lush and taller than knee-high. Fluffy clouds in a baby blue sky scud along on the breeze, and the air holds the sweet mingled scents of many different blossoms. One of my favorite flowers is the rose, which is also the flower of June.

I have tried to raise roses for many, many years. I’ve tried climbing, bush, miniature, tea, hybrid, knock-out—and the list goes on and on. What our friendly deer don’t eat, the remainder dies from the cold, freezing winters.

I have only a clump of old-fashioned rag roses left, which I dug out from around the foundation of an old house from the 1800s on our farm in Northeastern Pennsylvania. This hardy variety seems to be able to hold its own, despite the rabbits munching down the stalks under the snows.

If you have a favorite month of the year, please share it. If you have a favorite flower, please share that as well. 

WILLIE, MY LOVE
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