Saturday, November 9, 2013

The Harvest, Halloween, and Hope

(this was a great season for the garden.)

As most of  you Dear readers know, we haven't had any real stellar harvests from the 'ol garden in awhile.
I will re-cap the season and eventually get to the Carrot Life lesson that was taught to me this year.
Actually, I just lied when I said the garden wasn't stellar. - Last year there was non stop abundance of lettuce.
I love salad, however....
One can only rinse, drain, rinse, pat dry with paper towels and then  enjoy a salad sprinkled with dirt, smothered in  Ranch dressing, for so long.
(Or so I thought.)

There was the rutabaga. Which was a complicated sort of veggie to get used to.

I almost forgot that we did have ample amounts of potatoes in which family members would go out and dig some for a meal. I was so proud at those moments. And grateful.

And the grand kids still loved to walk barefoot, or flip flopped, through the garden to the raspberries patch; eating them right there.

(which of course is BERRY CUTE of them)
The garden isn't there for a huge haul of veggies- it has been there for
me .
For me to weed.For me to heal. Or for me to endure.  For me to do my thinking. It's, like, my office, my home office.
On a bathroom stool I would sit and weed; work out the stress in my life.
This year I didn't do much thinking, er uh, weeding. Because I had to attend to my

Patient  "work"  office-  [the garden]flopbottomed out ;without its Momma to tend to it.
(yes, I feel like they are my children.)

How sad!

Each morning that I can, I do the daily routine of opening the blinds to let in the morning sunshine on our kitchen table and breakfast. First I'd check my flowers progress. Admire it and compare it to the day before.,

Let's just say that the blinds didn't get opened until later in the day- like lunch time and then it was with such remorse and regret that I viewed my garden like it was . Like it were a wayward child; electing to rebel rather than obey.
(I had told Padre I would NOT be able to do anything in regards to a garden in the spring.However, you know Padre. If not read my blog.)
Padre, in a desperate attempt, threw some seeds in the soil during the spring  and Idaho sent in a late frost.
Thank you , Frost.

That's why Idaho is so neat. You never know what you are gonna get.

The morning could be clear blue skies when you set off to school on your bike basking in the sunshine only to find out by second recess that you would be riding your bike home from school in the snow.

 Back to the garden- all we have to show for it is a cute pumkin' patch decoration on the porch..

Thanks to J.'s, he was able to get the  porch decorated for me.
-Knowing I love to make flower arrangements, he arranged  a dead sunflower amongst the patch.
And when I finally got around to the front to see his work of art;
I teared up.

“Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower.”
Albert Camus

Susan Branch says to take a walk and when a leaf falls, to catch it, kiss it and make a wish as you thrown it back in the air.

She doesn't live in Idaho. Catching that leaf can be difficult in 80mph winds. Exaggerting. But you can pick them up when they pile up on your lawn. But I don't know where its been so I haven't kissed any leaves lately.
We enjoyed some cucumbers, and that squash p will be lathered in butter and brown sugar soon.
Here is my bicycle basket atop the sand and paper dividing up the carrots. 

There were even potatoes, not planted
that re-seeded themselves amongst all the weedsin the piicture below!

whoa! Way to go
 hearty fellas!

 This is Idaho, though. We are known for them!
Under this mess of weeds, dead sunflowers and a lot of spiders, we found the potatotes and a few toys.

One orange BSUfootball that had been missed

Yes, we did get our tomatoes through out the summer but the heirloom seeds Padre put in weren't cutting it like the kinds we have used in the past.

Good NEWS!
(no, they haven't found a cure yet.)

Padre got rid of the eye sore tires! I get to have my water walls back!

But not until some serious renovation takes place out there. It is like the lone and dreary wilderness or something. I can't have my office like that! How can I sit on a bathroom stool and think with that mess?
 So I enlisted some troops. Who, coincidentally, wearing army fatigues to gear up for Halloween. "The Boys" were assigned Operation Fix My Office.
They were paid.

The job J. loved most was when the nieghbor just behind that worn out fence, asked if he'd blow the leaves off her roof, gutters, and so and so forth.

He came home so excited, he grabbed his gear, lasso and heaed over to their house.
He shimmied up the shed, then onto the roof, lassoed the rope for Virginia, and proceeded to do what every kid dreams of doing: standing on a roof.

He was told to anchor himsielf to the chimney by his mother.

He and his cohort in crime  like to dress lin fatigues every day after school, but on the 31st, they got to show everyone in the neighborhood their special ops attire.
And put a bunch of paint on their faces.


One day, J and Ace  cleared  weeds while I taught them that each seed  on the weed would produce six offspring.
 I learned this from Google University one night.
(so don't quote or source me)

So basically, this summer,  due to our neglect, we were able to harvest millions of weeds. Some that will stay dormant for seven years or so. 


Lots of time to think next spring! While sitting on my new 2Step Stool Padre bought!
After the initial let down about the garden, the stress of the task before us,  I broke down and aksed
 I asked for help
in harvesting what was left in the garden.
The task was too big for me or J. and time was running out... 
So ..
a good friend and neighbor came over, methodically went through the carrots; like an old school  w elementaty nurse, using a fine toothed comb, looking for lice on a kids; scalp; the carrots received a thorough search.

Because I couldn't just let this person do thw for me, me inside... I hsd to sit next to the garden while it was being overhauled.

This is when I learned my Carrot/LIfe Lesson. 
Carrots. that I would have discarded, because they were Campbells soup bite sized,  were tossed my way to be saved in the layers of sand and newspaper.

My job was to break off the green stems, line them up like kids in a classroom, except I got to put these in a box filled with sand.
(I didn't know this trick! You also put a layer of newspaper between each layer of carrots.)

As small carrot nubbins came my way, I started to really think about how I discard, waste, and  take things for the most part, for granted.

Oh, who am I kidding, I take a lot for granted.

(weeds and some onions, I think from last year's garden- when I was starting to not be able to get to it..)

This person showed me a valuable lesson. 

Morsel or bite sized carrot was
was left in the ground.....
Before the "Parable of the Carrot" took place, I had I been using the fishing philosophy/rule of:
Catch & Release.
  I know, fishing and gardening hardly can be compared, with exception that they both are outdoor offices for some folks.
The carrots were so.... small.

And I saw myself  trying to grate one and all I could see in my mind's eye was ending up with a thin slice of skin from my finger along with an half inch of carrot peal.

*(chives for potatoes)

The fact they came my way and were expected to still be tossed in the box drove home the point of not wasting.
This person had lived through the leaner times in our country's history. Ane I wonder if this is why there was such care taken in harvesting the garden.
Cause prednisone messes up your hormones, I got a bit teary eyed as I snapped off the green feathered tips of the carrots and placed them in the box.  Because the onions were next,, it didn't help my tears. Or my fatigue.

And so the garden got harvested. The onions are atop the sanded layers of carrots in our garage.

Earlier in the summer, when the raspberris came on, Padre guilted those with in ear shot that having canned raspberry jam was the whole reason he worked so much over time. All those "cases of trouble" he has that come from the

" Kingdom of Dispatchers",

 or whoever it is that hears word of a case of trouble and then passes it on to Padre; is so that he can burn slices of french bread and drizzle the yummy goodness of:

Canned Jam; The Reason Padre is Alive, er uh, works long hours; so that he can come home, sit in his captians chair and have homemae jam on charred toast.

Personally I prefer my bread simply toasted. Not torched. I will even eat it non-toasted.
And right now it is making me weepy because the Grandma that I love, the one who made the best jam, smothered a piece of homemade bread with butter and then the
delicious and most valuable jam was placed on it.
Sitting up to her table right now is bringing back memories.
She is fading down the Parkinsons Trail.

One we can't follow but only watch, remember, and soak in the moments.

Back to my bloggyness:

Seems simple enough to pick, wash, and then can the fruit, right?


Raspberries take over and then, when watered enough and given ample sunlight, they become
they demand all of your time to gather, rinse, and can them so you can enjoy them on burnt toast.

Every year since tearing up the lawn and putting in this garden,  I am too tired to deal with the prepping of the garden for spring.


Soooo badly I want tulips to emerge in spring and purple crocuses to come out the snow in my flower beds to offset the beastly winters.
Don't tell, but I think I will just use some fake ones and no one will know the difference.

**A friend helped me plant tulip bulbs. I am so excited. They are even out my window.
AND there are  yellow Crocus, to peep out of the snow to tell winter that spring-spring WILL return to us Idahoans. 

Can you believe it????

Finally, after seven years of living here,  I get tulips. I am overjoyed. It is a simple thing to many I am sure. but I could never do it. Too tired.
Dvery year I have descend into this disease and I have to monitor myself. Usually I am So tired. And broke. Ha!

So, even though I could not garden this year- I was in a position to put in flowers.

Now, I have flowers to look forward to in t
he spring. It was the nicest gift someone could give me.


 It isn't Spring yet you say?

But there is so much to gardening. I wish I'd paid more attention to the people in my life who were there to teach me about flowers but I was too busy.

So back to the real time.....

“Fall has always been my favorite season. The time when everything bursts with its last beauty, as if nature had been saving up all year for the grand finale.”
Lauren DeStefano, Wither

The grande finale has been playing out before my eyes. The red berries on all of the foliage stand out against the dry, crackly leaves left to endure the winter.

When I find Padre's thing a ma jig, I will show you more pictures of what fall is for me. Where do I put things? Gads.



1 comment:

  1. i like your blog! hi there! found you because i had a cortisone shot and then took sixty mg of prednisone and BAM, I AM NOW FAT! in TWO DAYS! woah.


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