The Christmas Cactus Parable

We've had a Christmas cactus that has never bloomed.  It just sits there and looks very... cactus-like.  Christmas comes and Christmas goes and nothing happens.  Until this year.  We tried remembering to water it.  We moved it to various spots in the house.  Finally, we placed the cactus on the back patio and noticed that the cactus suddenly looked healthier, better, and happier in this spot.  Right around Thanksgiving, the cactus started to get red buds on the tips, and then the thing erupted in beautiful blooms.

This photo shows the progression of small bud to the brilliant-red bloom!  Legend has it that the Christmas cactus got its name when a little boy from Brazil prayed to God requesting a break from the heat and humidity of the jungle.  On Christmas Day, the boy exited his hut to find the jungle around him filled with red blooms of the Christmas Cactus overnight.

The Christmas cactus that for so long sat dormant, sullen, and moribund has made a dramatic turn for the better!  We stop by and peer out the french doors and admire it's blooms often.

So it is with people, with events, with dreams, hopes and wishes.  For so long things look unchanged in situations in your life.  People and events look hopeless.  Sometimes things go on like this for what seems like ages.  But you don't give up.  You must have patience.  Try new things, places and changes of scenery.  And then one day...  Then one day, unexpectedly, you're met with blooms and happiness!  May your Christmas be merry and bright and filled with blooms and happiness. 

Phase II in the Garden with Cucumbers and Summer Squash

We made a bumper crop of cucumbers this spring/summer in the garden.  It was a cool snack to have between meals or in a salad as a side dish and ate more cucumbers this year than you could shake a stick at.  We gave a bunch of them away and pickled the rest using the lacto-fermentation method.  Although we still have about a gallon of those left, the inventory is quickly depleting.  With that in mind, I planted a long row of them on the trellis that the sugar snap peas were growing on and they are coming on strong.

The cucumbers have blooms galore and if they set fruit, we'll have a spectacular fall cucumber harvest.  I planted several varieties: Boston Pickling (my personal favorite), Marketmore, and Suyo Long.  The Boston Pickling seeds were from some seed I had saved from 2015.  Knowing that seeds 10 years old would have a poor germination percentage, I planted them real thick.

Lots of blooms on the plants and if you look closely, you can see that we've got some baby cucumbers!

But cucumbers aren't the only plants with blooms.  Right to the north of the cucumber trellis, we've a row of yellow crookneck squash, zucchini squash and straightneck squash.  We have a real battle on our hands with the squash borer.  One day you'll have a healthy plant and the very next, it will have wilted and died due to this terrible pest.  Even if we have a good bit of squash in the freezer, I want to put up plenty more.  The blooms give me great hope that we can have phase two of the squash harvest.

We aren't the only ones happy with the blooms on the squash.  A big, fat bumblebee was knee-deep in squash flower pollen as I snapped this photo.

If the Good Lord's willing, we'll see a maturation of fruit on both the cucumbers and squash and will enjoy a nice harvest!

The Bloom is Off the Rose

The bloom is off the rose.  Have you ever used that expression?

It's an old idiom, I read, that dates back to the 19th century.  Roses were seen as a thing of beauty, perfection even.  But as everyone knows, they wither and fade.  Gradually, this fact was woven into our vernacular as an expression that means that something has lost its charm or attractiveness or luring qualities.

Bench seats in pickup trucks.  Your girlfriend could slide right next to you.  We would joke when we'd see someone sitting right next to the driver that they must be only carrying insurance on half the vehicle.  The center console and bucket seats made that romanticism disappear.  A high school boy was enamored with the fact that his girl could scoot over on the bench seat right next to him.  That just kind of withered away.  The thrill is gone.  The bloom is off the rose.

Right outside our back patio, my wife has some roses planted.  We enjoy watching their beauty.  You must take in that beauty quickly, however, because it's fleeting.  I have photographic evidence.  I tracked a rose from its hopeful beginning to its tragic end.  It takes all of six days or 144 hours for "the bloom to be off the rose."  

Let's look at exhibit A.  Here is a perfect boutonniere.  You could snip this off and stick it in the button hole on you navy blue blazer and you'd be dressed to the nines.  You'd be, as ZZ Top sang, "a sharp dressed man."

By that afternoon, the rose is just starting to open up...

And for a few days we beheld its beauty.  It fully opened and the delicate petals attracted all the attention on the back patio.  It was a show-stopper.  The talk of the town.

And yet, time keeps on ticking, and I guess, similar to our lives, its health and beauty begins to rapidly decline.  If you remember studying in school about the bell curve, or standard deviation curve, our beautiful rose is on the back side of that curve, and it's sliding down in an exponential fashion.  Those once gorgeous petals have dropped or are in the process of dropping.

And six days from the beginning of it's beauty, here we are.  The bloom is off the rose.

It reminds me of a song released in 1972 by Tanya Tucker called Delta Dawn.  It's a song about a woman, a Southern Belle, who was promised that a man was going to meet her and take her away to get married.  And he never came.  He stood her up.  The chorus goes like this:

Delta Dawn, what's that flower you have on

Could it be a faded rose from days gone by?

And did I hear you say he was a-meeting you here today

To take you to his mansion in the sky?

She wears this faded rose - a symbol of hope and longing and good memories that went awry.  She's still waiting suitcase in hand for the man, and he'll never come.  The bloom is off the rose.  That would be a sad way to end this post, but there's a lesson in the frailty and disappointments of life:

Matthew 6:19-21  King James Version

Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth, where moth and rust doth corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal: But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal: For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.

Joy Comes in the Morning

For several mornings, we'd hear "beep, beep, beep" and that would alert us that bright and early, the workers on the right-of-way crews were unhooking the wood chipper and backing down our driveway to dump another load of wood chips.  We filled up all of our available space and had to tell them that we couldn't take any more.  That's too bad.  But we have all we need for now.

I zoomed in on the photo above to show you what is going on.  Can you see the steam rising from the wood chip pile?  It wasn't even cool outside, but the piles are heating up.  The chips are decomposing and bacteria growth is starting to work.  Pretty soon we'll see mushrooms growing on the piles.  Some will be edible and some not.  Eventually, all this stuff will make some rich compost.  I move it wagon-load at a time to the back of the garden and layer wood chips and cow manure, wood chips and more cow manure.

We did lose a couple blueberry bushes in the drought, but the ones that survived are loaded up with blooms.  Tricia made homemade blueberry muffins this weekend and they were absolutely delicious.  I asked her how many blueberries we had left in the freezer, hoping we'd not run out before this year's crop comes in.

The bushes are a-buzz with honeybees.  In our beekeeping class, they told us that honeybees can boost crop productivity by 30%.  I hope that is true.  Our bees are certainly working the bushes hard.  Hopefully, we'll have a great blueberry crop.

One thing we haven't had for the last two years is citrus.  The intense freezes we've had for the past two years have decimated our trees.  I spent the last two days burning the dead citrus branches that our neighbors cut off of their trees.  They even lost some.  The only citrus tree we lost was a lemon tree.  The navel orange tree was damaged, BUT, I'm seeing blooms on it!

Same thing with the 1 year old Owari satsuma tree.  We bought another satsuma tree at the nursery in town that is supposed to be more cold hardy (down to 10 degrees Fahrenheit).

This tangerine tree has very minimal growth on it, but it's a fighter.  It has some blooms on it.

My stroll through the yard was a joyful one.  We may have citrus once again!

From the Texas Line Back to Our Maker's Acres Family Farm on a Spring Day

I had a work assignment that led me out west to Starks, Louisiana.  Starks is pretty doggone close to Texas.  My wife was with me and I asked her how far the Sabine River was from our location.  She pulled up her map and said, "A half mile that way."  So we turned around and headed that way.  In no time at all we were on the bank of the Sabine River.  The sun was shining.  It was cool.  The current in the river was brisk.  Right on the other side is the State of Texas.

We made it back home, finished up with work and decided I would soak up a spring day just relishing the beauty of God's creation.  These were come oxalis that were blooming by the fence to the east of the pasture.  This is a bad weed in the garden, but it is beautiful if not growing in the garden.  I pulled these and fed them to the goats.  They were begging me for them.

Speaking of the goats, many years ago I planted some yellow iris along the border of the eastern fence.  My thought was that it would be a privacy fence.  Not so much for us but for the neighbors, so they wouldn't have to look at all the activity in the pasture all day.  Well, the goats had other plans, and I should have known better.  As soon as the iris came up, the goats devoured them.  The iris migrated to the east and now they form a border fence on the neighbor's property.  They are blooming now and are very pretty to look at.

Here is our Japanese Magnolia.  We call it Laura Lee's tree (our daughter).  It puts out blooms THEN puts on flowers.  I learned a valuable lesson from this tree.  We planted it in the side yard and planted it close to the sewer line.  Well, the roots clogged the drain line!

The previous photo highlighted the flower.  This one shows the entire tree.

Right next to the Japanese Magnolia is the Redbud tree.  Similarly, it puts on blooms BEFORE the big, heart-shaped leaves come out.

Here is a close up of the flowers.

Here is an African yellow iris.  Tricia planted this a couple years ago between the palm trees and has been waiting for it to bloom.  Well, it finally did!

Here is the red lily

And finally, the amaryllis.

Spring time is a beautiful time of year!  

A Couple Signs of Spring

Springtime in South Louisiana is very short.  Like, it is measured in nanoseconds.  You must be on your toes or you will flat out miss it.  You'll go from wearing a coat one day to being able to fry an egg on the dash of your car the next.  That's why it pays to be observant, enjoying the beautiful signs of spring before it's too late.

Temperatures are projected to top 80 degrees this week.  We showed photos yesterday of some fresh growth on the blueberry bushes.  While I was checking that out a couple of things caught my eye.  First, is our Japanese Magnolia.  This tree is a beautiful tree.  As it turned out, it was an expensive tree, but not the way you think.  Years ago we bought this tree and planted it in a nice spot.  We didn't really think things through.  I guess I'd better take the blame for that.  Anyway, the Japanese Magnolia quickly grew roots that grew into our plumbing lines.  Then they really thrived.  Then the plumbing was clogged up with the roots.  After putting the plumber's children through college, we were able to enjoy this tree again.

At this time of year it puts out some nice-looking blooms before there is a leaf on the tree.  They smell nice too.  These trees are a harbinger of spring... as well as plumbers' job security.

The next sign of spring are spring eggs!  With warmer weather, fresh green growth in the pasture, and more bugs and worms to eat on, the hens' egg production has doubled in the last month.  The pullets' eggs are still small, but they'll get bigger in short order.  Right now, we're separating the pullet eggs from the old layers.  We are eating the pullet eggs as well as giving them away.  We're selling the eggs from the older hens.  I don't want to sell the pullet eggs and upset any customers.

The pullet eggs are delicious - pretty too.  Below you can tell which pullet eggs come from the "Easter Egger" hens.  Some are green and some are blue.  I alternate them with the brown eggs from the brown eggs of the Rhode Island Reds and Barred Rock hens as it makes a visually appealing dozen eggs, don't you think?  Some do not!  One time I had a prospective customer that saw our "Country Eggs" For Sale sign and came knocking at our door.  When I opened a carton and showed her the eggs, she did NOT like the blue and green eggs.  In fact, she said, "No thanks" and drove off.  As I watched her drive off, all I could think was, "I do not like GREEN EGGS and ham.  I do not like them Sam I am."  I guess we're not supposed to quote Dr. Seuss anymore.  What a crazy world we live in.

Another sign of spring is that each day we're picking florets from our broccoli plants.  After harvesting the main head, the plant will continue throwing out florets.  If you don't harvest them quickly, they'll bloom yellow flowers and go to seed.  Every other day we go out and pick all the florets we can.  It is the gift that keeps on giving.  Tricia used the fresh spring eggs and broccoli florets to make a delicious quiche the other night!

Goodness gracious was it ever good!  Back in the 80's there was a book entitled, "Real Men Don't Eat Quiche."  I beg to differ.  I'm a real man and I devoured that quiche.

Checking in on the Garden After the Big Freeze

The Winter Garden is almost done.  We'll still be harvesting a lot of cabbage, chard, beets, and carrots, but other than that, the focus is on getting the spring garden planned and planted.  We'll show you a few photos of activities in the garden.  First, here is a nice shot of a head of Romanesco Broccoli.

Notice the swirls, spirals, and designs of the Romanesco.  It tastes like a normal broccoli, with a 'nuttier' taste.  We like them!  Along with this Romanesco, we've been picking broccoli florets almost every day and, along with cut up fresh carrots and beets, oven roasting them with oil, minced garlic, salt and pepper.  Delicious!

The carrots, slow to start in the fall, came on like gangbusters.  In fact, they are probably too thick.  They are healthy, however and are producing well.  Some are still small, but we're walking the rows, harvesting those carrots that are ripe.

We wash them up and eat them raw and crisp or oven roast them.  Today, they perfectly accompanied a pot roast for lunch after Morning Services at church.  Each day we need to be very disciplined about picking the ripe ones out so that the smaller ones have room to go ahead and mature.  Anything that we don't eat, we'll blanch and freeze so that we'll stretch the harvest out and eat all year.

One thing I want to show you is not really in the garden, but in our little food forest orchard of blueberries.  Right before the big freeze came, the blueberry bushes were blooming.  Those blooms eventually put on delicious berries.  Except, the freeze finished off the blooms.  See below.  The blooms are brown and dead.  There will be no berries following these blooms.

However, we've been on trails way up the mountain the the Great Smokey Mountain National Park and have feasted on blueberries along the path.  I just knew our blueberries would be okay.  Sure enough, fresh green growth is coming out on the bushes.  

In an even better sign, fresh blooms are filling the bushes where the brown blooms were and there will soon be blueberries.  That's a great sign!

The jury is still out on all of our citrus.  The leaves have all turned brown and died on our navel orange, tangerine, and grapefruit trees.  There is no fresh green growth on any of the trees.  The only positive sign is that if you scratch the tree, there is a layer of green just beneath the bark.  We will keep our eyes on the trees for fresh signs of life.

So hopeful that the dangers of freeze has passed, this afternoon, we transplanted the seedlings of many of the tomatoes we planted back in January.  We planted: Black Krim, Black Vernissage, Big Rainbow, and Pink Brandywine tomatoes.  Each afternoon this week, I will try to put more varieties out in the garden soil.  The warming days should get them growing.

The plants were about six inches tall, but I planted them deep - right up to the base of the bottom leaves.  The buried stem will become part of the root system.  The tomatoes are happy and healthy.  With temperatures reaching the upper 70's all this week, these tomatoes should really begin growing.

With longer days and warmer weather, everything should green up and really start growing.  Can't wait for Spring!

Growing a New (For Us) Type of Cowpea (Southern Pea)

Saturday morning is a morning different from other mornings.  We slow down the pace to that of a three-toed sloth or maybe a snail.  It is a day that we allow the sun to beat us outside.  We rise at a respectable hour, have coffee, and slowly make our way out to milk the cows.  Once finished, I usually take a stroll through the garden, not to work, mind you (that comes later in the day), but just to take in all the changes that I didn't get to observe during the week. 

It is usually around 9AM by this time and the sun filters through the live oak trees to our east and lights up the garden with soft light.  I notice the beautiful blooms of some peas.  If you look closely below, you can see that a fire ant is enjoying the bloom as well.  Can you see that dad-gum thing on the flower?

This beautiful bloom is on a new plant for us.  Several years ago, we went to a sustainable agricultural conference.  In one part of the conference, they have a seed exchange.  They invite attendees to bring heirloom seed to trade.  It is a good opportunity to pick up some new varieties of old heirloom seeds that you can't buy from seed companies.  These are seeds passed down in families from generation to generation.

This bloom is from a plant in the Southern Pea family called a Whippoorwill Pea.  I had never heard of it before.  I opened the small brown envelope with a hand-written label containing the seeds and planted them a couple months ago.  The seeds were old.  I was not optimistic, but lo and behold, they grew!  And now they are blooming and setting pods of peas.

The peas seem immune to the heat and dry conditions of south Louisiana and send out vines that stretch across the ground and climb up the trellis supporting the luffah gourds and birdhouse gourds.  This is an old seed!   This seed was harvested from the gardens at Monticello, Thomas Jefferson's garden.  Here is what is written about it from the Monticello website:

In 1798 Thomas Jefferson wrote that the cowpea (also called southern, crowder, or field pea) "is very productive [and an] excellent food for man and beast."  He also praised the species' ability to improve the tilth and fertility of the soil.  Cowpeas, first brought to the southeastern U.S. by African slaves, were sowed in the South Orchard at Monticello between 1806 and 1810.  Whippoorwill Cowpea, a bush variety with short runners, purple flowers, and 7-9" pods, was popular in the 19th century.

The pods of the Whippoorwill pea turn white when they are ready for harvest.  I've been picking quite a few of them. 

In the evenings I sit in the kitchen and shell peas.  Sometimes the boys help me if they are around.  It goes faster when you have help, but like Saturday mornings, we don't get in a rush.  Shelling peas is a relaxing exercise.  Time seems to stand still.  The stress of the days' demands roll off of you like water off a duck's back. 

When you are done, there is the gratification of a job well done.  Here we have a nice bowl of fresh-shelled Whippoorwill Peas.

Whippoorwill Peas are different from other cowpeas.  They are a little smaller and have a green-grey mottled color.  I like the way they look.

Now, to complete our review, we just need to cook up a pot of them and taste them.  The flowers are pretty, they laugh at the heat and dry conditions of the summer, the yield is great, and they are nice to look at.  The proof, though, is how they taste.  I'll report back on that.  I am optimistic and have saved some of the best looking pods to hold back for next year's Whippoorwill Pea seed planting.

These peas have survived for over 200 years in America.  Might as well do my part to keep them going for at least another season.