THE JOY OF JULY

There’s something poignant and special about July. For northern folks in the United States, it means our summer is one-third over—if we count our summer as June, July, and August.

July brings us a heap of good things to experience like beautiful sunsets and the glorious sweet scent of milkweeds blooming along the roadsides shouldering their way among daisies and Queen Anne’s lace. And of course, there’s glorious warm sunshine to enjoy.                                   

My favorite spot during the summer is on our swing on our covered patio, hung near the far edge of the terrace where you can view the stars at night or enjoy a fire blazing in a fireplace several feet beyond. When peace and quiet call the soul, you can sit there any time of the day and just absorb the soothing sounds of country life. The wind whispering in the trees. Birds prattling to each other. The lonesome whistle of a distant train.    

Muggy nights encourage us to linger outside and watch the lightning bugs dance in the grass or watch heat lightning flash across the inky sky. If we’re lucky, we might catch the plaintive call of an owl or night hawk hiding in a nearby tree.

I’m always in awe of the earth beneath us when July rolls around. A garden is one kind of a miracle. We carefully set our plants—flowers, vegetables, and herbs—in the tilled ground or in the buckets in our bucket garden for them to magically flourish using the gifts of soil, sunshine, and showers. Already, parsley, thyme, rosemary, chives, and oregano are ready for use in our summertime sauces, marinates, and favorite dishes.

July is also considered the ideal month for fireworks, picnics, weddings, and celebrations. But it’s also a special time to find joy in the little things and to appreciate the season with its bounty and beauty…even when we know it will end much too soon.

                                         Find them on my AMAZON AUTHOR Page

                JUNE ~ The Pianist        ADELENE ~ The Violinist       LUCY ~ The Clarinetist

 

HAY SEASON ON THE FARM

June is a paradox for children who grew up on farms. It heralds the end of the school year when there are no more books, no more homework, and no more long bus rides winding through the rural backroads ten times a week. It is also a month when the hard work on a farm gets even harder.

June is haying season. It’s a time when hot summer days bring temperatures in the 90s, and farm kids work a job that’s hard, dusty, and endless.

Outside, mowers clatter along in the fields slicing swaths of sweet smelling clover, timothy, fescue and other grasses to be dried in the sun. Later, the hay is raked into fluffy windrows and collected and hauled to the barn’s haymow, pronounced “haymau” with the “mow” rhyming with “cow.”

Before we owned a baler, we collected our loose hay onto an old flatbed milk truck pulling a hay loader. As the dried hay was swept up onto the truck bed in an endless ribbon, Dad spread it evenly around until it reached a heaping full load. Often he let out a sharp whistle to the driver to stop while he pitched out a snake who took a free ride up with the hay. A whistle would also ensue when part of—or an entire—load slid off the bed on a steep hillside with him sailing along with it.

When fully loaded without mishap, the truck was pulled into the haymow where a two-tined hayfork on a track running along the barn’s peak was dropped by a pulley and rope and inserted in the hay. Pulled back up by another rope, the hay bundle slid up and along the rail to be tripped and dumped at the proper location in the barn’s loft.

The words mowing away hay to a farm kid's ears will bring a series of grunts, groans and weary-sounding expletives as a retort. On a hot day, mowing hay meant tearing apart the big heap of hay with a pitchfork and spreading it out to all corners of the loft. The mow was often several temperatures higher than outside. This exhausting, sweltering task went on again and again until the truck bed was empty. 

I often mowed hay for my dad. And I can truly say, I uttered a relieved sigh each time the last forkful was dumped, spread, and I could escape the itchy hayseeds and broiling heat to get a cold drink. Then it was back to the hayfield to do it all over again, constantly searching the bright sky for the smallest hint of rain—the farmer’s worst enemy during haying season. 

~ * ~

Featuring FOUR WHITE ROSES 

Finalist in the Book Excellence Awards, the Georgia Romance Writers' Maggie Award, and the American Fiction Awards.

 

MOTHER'S DAY IN MAY

                                          Your Arms Were Always Open

Your arms were always open
When I needed a hug.

Your heart understood
When I needed a friend.

Your gentle eyes were stern
When I needed a lesson.

Your strength and love
Guided me and gave me wings
To help me soar.

                                  ~Anonymous

April showers bring May flowers. It also allows us to salute mothers all over the world.

When I think about my mother, a farmer’s wife who left this earth too soon, I think of one of the strongest persons I’ve ever known. She was the youngest from a family of nine siblings, and grew up bilingual in a Polish household on a farm outside Clifford, Pennsylvania. Her father, Charles Shefsky, and her mother, Mary, were immigrants. Unfortunately, both my grandfather and grandmother moved to New Jersey and died when I was very young, so I never knew them.

Jean Shefsky Lashinski was a talented lady and seamstress who could sew, crochet, and fashion beautiful articles and clothing on a simple pedal Singer sewing machine. And, she was a skilled crafter and painter as well. From her, I learned to not only make crafts, but also to have a love for books. An avid reader herself, mother made sure my sister and I had books—either purchased or from the Bookmobile—to keep us engaged and entertained with the written word. Obviously, her love for reading rubbed off on me and was the reason I went to college for journalism and communications.

Although she was a very kindhearted person, my mother was also a very stoic, resilient, and outspoken woman for her time. From her, I learned you needed to be able to stand up for what you thought was right, for your own rights, and for the rights of others. She was a strong advocate of women’s rights and routinely worked at her local polling place during election years.

I admit that I still talk to her on occasion when things go wrong or when times seem overwhelming. I can hear her in my head. In her own voice, in her own tone, and in her own words, she would remind me: “Life is tough. You must learn to be tougher.” 

This month, I'm featuring FOUR WHITE ROSES which won three awards 

and has a main character who is a young widow and mother of a little girl. 

 

"Can a wily old ghost help two fractured souls find love again?"

April Slides in with National Poetry Month and Earth Day

April has arrived.

Photo JosepMonter, Pixabay

For many people April brings the excitement of an awakening in our land as we watch the dull brown of sleeping vegetation in the northern regions morph into the many vibrant hues of green. What better way to enjoy the month than to smell the earthy scent of mud, feel the warm sun on your back, and rekindle your hope that spring has arrived with its many showers and colorful flowers?                                  

April is also National Poetry Month and, on April 22^nd, we celebrate Earth Day in the United States along with Canada and other countries around the world. This year, the theme for Earth Day is Invest In Our Planet and continues to focus on the effects of climate change.

One of my favorite poems is It Must Be Spring, by May Fenn. It not only ushers in joys of the season, but also highlights the wonders of our earth, giving a nod to the importance of Earth Day.

Hush, can you hear it?
The rustling in the grass,
Bringing you the welcome news that
Winter’s day is past.
Soft, can you feel it?
The warm caressing breeze,
Telling you the sticky buds
Are bursting on the trees.
Look, can you see them?
The primrose in the lane.
Now you must believe it —
Spring is here again.

Photo by Beeki, Pixabay

So as we watch the red buds burst and bloom and see the first yellow dandelions emerge in the grass…or listen to the returning birds in the bushes and the honking geese in the skies overhead… let’s take time to enjoy the jaunty month bringing renewal to our earth and optimism to our lives. 

 

 

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MARCH - Named for the Roman God of War

Paddy caps (hats) off to the Irish! March is a windy, sometimes chilly, but joyous month when everyone becomes Irish on St. Patrick’s Day. In the northern states, it’s also the month which can come roaring in like a lion with cold blustery weather and go out with warmth and the softness of a lamb or—vice versa.

Everyone looks forward to March 20^th, when spring is supposed to march in and put an end to winter weather. Daffodils, the flower of March, rear their sleepy heads and poke through the cold ground, bringing the color of sunshine back to the drab flowerbeds.

Rain and mud are part of spring. If we’re fortunate, we might well see the return of early migrating birds. Birds that nest in the Northern Hemisphere tend to migrate in spring to take advantage of burgeoning insect populations, budding plants, and an abundance of nesting locations. I love to step outside, search the sky, and listen when I hear the first flocks of geese winging their way toward Canada.

For me, it’s also a bittersweet month. My mother passed away in the month of March. Ironically, her birthday was on St. Patrick’s Day. For someone of Polish ancestry, she was always a good sport and laughed and loved the cakes, iced in green with shamrocks, we made to celebrate her special day.

Most of all, for those of us who like to garden, who like to watch things grow, it’s an exciting month as we start planning the flowers, vegetables, herbs, and other greenery we’d like to plant for the coming spring, summer, and fall ahead. Last year, we had a bucket garden filled with a variety of spices. This year, my husband has found a “vertical squash” plant we want to grow. But that’s a story for another day.

Hats off to all… and to the month of March named for the Roman god of war, Mars.  May it be a prosperous and pleasing one for all.

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A PRETTY PEPPER - THE ALOHA

Compliments of Blue Apron

The other day, my husband and I stopped at Perine’s Produce, a grocery and local fresh vegetable and fruit market in New Smyrna Beach, Florida, where I discovered a striking, new, red and yellow striped pepper.

It’s a Holland bell pepper called the Aloha or Enjoya. Discovered in the Netherlands, Aloha peppers were cultivated to show off their stunning stripes. They taste very similar to bell peppers and have a sweet, mild flavor.

They can be eaten raw or grilled or cooked, making them perfect for salads and hot dishes. They keep their pretty variegated stripes even after they are heated. My Aloha pepper cost me $0.99 for one. 

I’m looking forward to trying them in my stuffed pepper soup recipe below. According to the recipe, you can use red, yellow, or green peppers. I’m wondering what striped Aloha or Enjoya peppers will taste like in the recipe. 

 Stuffed Pepper Soup

1lb lean ground beef
1 large onion, diced
1 cup uncooked or 2 cups cooked rice, plain or wild

1 can Hunts flavored diced tomatoes
1 can tomato sauce (14.5oz can)
1 tsp dried oregano
1 tsp basil
½ tsp salt
¼ tsp pepper
1 box chicken stock (32oz)
2 cups water
2 tbsp powdered beef stock
3 bell peppers – green, red and yellow can be used
Cheese for topping (optional)
Fresh cracked black pepper for garnish (optional)

 

In a large soup pot coated with cooking spray, over medium-high heat, brown the grown beef with the onions and rice. Browning rice gives it a nutty flavor, but do not let it burn.

Dice peppers into small ½" pieces, set side.
Add in the diced tomatoes, tomato sauce, oregano, basil, salt, pepper, chicken stock, water, and powdered beef stock, then allow it to come to a boil.

Reduce heat, cover and allow it to cook 20 minutes then add the peppers and allow it to cook another 20-30 minutes depending upon the type of rice.

 

Serve with cheese on top (optional)

Serves 6 - [398 calories]

   

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NATIONAL CHOCOLATE CAKE DAY - January 27th

It’s January 2023, and everyone is setting goals or making resolutions for the new year. 

I have decided to make just one: to try to eat less sweets. I discovered—well, not just recently discovered—I’m addicted to sweets and especially chocolate. I love all kinds of chocolate: milk, dark, white, semi-sweet, bitter sweet. And I’m not fussy whether they are in eatable or drinkable forms. I like candy, cakes, cookies, chocolate covered pretzels, hot chocolate and chocolate syrups. 

Chocolate come from cacao trees. These trees are relatively short, only growing to be about 15-25 feet tall. It takes about 5 years for a cacao tree to grow mature and start producing cacao pods. The beans grow in football-shaped pods on the trunk of the tree and from larger branches.

Chocolate has been part of American society for about 252 years. In America, chocolate was consumed primarily as a beverage until the 1830s or 40s. Chocolate cakes, as we think of them today, did not exist.

Imagine my surprise when I found out January 27^th is National Chocolate Cake Day in the United States, a nonofficial holiday to commemorate this delicious treat. 

A popular Philadelphia cookbook author, Eliza Leslie, published the earliest chocolate cake recipe in 1847 in The Lady’s Receipt Book. The first boxed cake mix was created by a company called O. Duff and Sons in the late 1920s. Betty Crocker released their first dry cake mixes in 1947.

Since then, cake has its own category and is featured in recipes around the world. Who hasn’t heard of German chocolate or Black Forest cake? Chocolate fudge or molten lave cake? Texas sheet cake or chocolate truffle cake? There are even cakelike brownie recipes. 

Cocoa contains both healthy and unhealthy forms of dietary fat, and contains minerals important for human health, including potassium, phosphorus, copper, iron, zinc and magnesium. Some studies have found that regular chocolate consumption is associated with lower blood pressure, decreased stress levels, and increased alertness.   

And thus, because chocolate can be healthy was exactly why I modified my resolution not to give up all sweets, just to eat less of them. Hey, who am I kidding? A red box of deluxe chocolates sitting on my counter (a Christmas present from my son) is calling out to me this very moment. Maybe just a small piece wouldn’t hurt, would it?

Happy New Year! 

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THE CHRISTMAS WREATH

It's the holly jolly holiday season. And everywhere, from up on the roof tops to down on the lawns, inside and outside, people are scurrying to decorate their homes. This is the time of the  year when I enjoy looking at the many different wreaths hanging on the doors of homes and businesses. They are colorful, artistic and varied, and are often constructed with evergreens, grape vines, or holly which are then adorned with pine cones, ribbons, bells, shiny glass balls, berries, and bows. But where did the tradition of hanging a wreath on a door for Christmas originate? Although there are many theories, it’s believed the wreath came with the Irish when they immigrated to the United States.

The wreath itself can be traced back to ancient Greece and Rome when people employed decorative wreaths as a sign of victory and celebration. Bay laurel wreaths crowned victorious athletes at the original Olympic Games. They are also used in ceremonial events in many other cultures around the world.

In English-speaking countries, wreaths are typically used as household ornaments, mainly as an Advent and Christmas decoration. They are also utilized in funerals and the laying of wreaths in memory of those who have died. When harvest season arrives, they are hung to celebrate the start of fall and the hopes for abundant crops.

Wreaths have centuries of  history and symbolism associated with them. During the Christmas season, many of these ornamental circles are made from branches from evergreen trees and shrubs which symbolize the strength of life overcoming the forces of winter, since evergreens can last throughout the harshest elements.

The shape of a circle has no beginning and no ending. It is thought that this may represent the eternal nature of a god's love, or the circle of life.

Do you hang a wreath on your door? If not, what do you do to decorate for the holiday season?

JUNE ~ The Pianist

(Book 1 of the Musical Christmas Series)
NOW ON SALE $0.99

Posted by Judy Ann Davis at 10:58 AM No comments:

OCTOBER'S PARTY - by Poet George Cooper

American poet George Cooper (May 14, 1840– September 26, 1927) was remembered chiefly for his song lyrics, many set to music by Stephen Foster. He translated the lyrics of German, Russian, Italian, Spanish, and French musical works into English to become songs. He is also best known for one of my favorite autumn poems, “October’s Party.” Many school children have heard or learned to recite the lyrics.

OCTOBER’S PARTY                          

October gave a party;                                             
The leaves by hundreds came—
The Chestnuts, Oaks, and Maples,
And leaves of every name.
The Sunshine spread a carpet,
And everything was grand,
Miss Weather led the dancing,
Professor Wind the band.

The Chestnuts came in yellow,
The Oaks in crimson dressed;
The lovely Misses Maple
In scarlet looked their best;
All balanced to their partners,
And gaily fluttered by;
The sight was like a rainbow
New fallen from the sky.

Then, in the rustic hollow,
At hide-and-seek they played,
The party closed at sundown,
And everybody stayed.
Professor Wind played louder;
They flew along the ground;
And then the party ended
In jolly "hands around." 

JUNE ~ The Pianist
(Book 1 of the Musical Christmas Series)
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