LATE SUMMER – ALMOST FALL

This has been an extremely busy summer so far… or so it seems. Perhaps it is just that I have slowed down so much that I don’t ever seem to get caught up. I was reminded a couple times lately that my blog has been neglected and I have noticed that several of the folks I used to keep up with have either quit blogging altogether or post only a couple times a month now rather than almost every day as they did in the past. Perhaps they are slowing down, too. Or perhaps the magic and newness of blogging has worn off. Whatever, the posts are fewer and further between. I do not feel compelled to post about every bloom or bug in the garden or every time I get a tomato on the vine. You will probably never get a post about what I had for dinner and will never see a recipe on my blog. That is just not my thing. If food is mentioned other than what my garden has produced, it is only that I am so grateful to have enough to eat and enough to share… I know I am truly blessed. As a little child my grandmother was always reminding me of the starving children elsewhere in the world who would just love to have what was on my plate (especially if it was ham which I have always steadfastly refused to eat, along with oysters, crabs, and mussels, among other things! I think I was born kosher.) It took a few years before I would know the meaning of true hunger and discovered a cure – get a job in a restaurant!

Over the years I have had folks comment that my blog is impersonal. For those of you who get my Sunday Musings, I make up for it there – but that is not available to the stranger or someone I do not want to share my life with. Perhaps my blog is an escape from my personal life… I keep it mostly free from political discussions or absolute religious statements, tho I dance around those things from time to time. I remember reading in someone’s blog after Obama was elected that, “You cannot be a Christian and vote for Obama!” “He is a baby killer and a Muslim and not even an American!” and things like that. No matter what I think or thought about Obama, I would never put myself out there with such thoughts. No, I don’t share my political anger on the blog. Nor do I condemn anyone else’s religious beliefs. I might not agree with them, but I have learned that we are all in various stages of growing up, even older folks like me, and hopefully our religious beliefs mature as we grow. I accept some folks will never be able to think any differently than they do right this moment, and that has to be OK. I try to use the Serenity Prayer as my guide in life and ask for the serenity to accept with I cannot change. In doing so, life is ever so much easier.

I tend to be a Buddhist. I have taken vows to that effect – I take them daily, and as such I endeavor not to kill, nor take what is not given to me, I try to watch what I say, avoid sexual misconduct, and avoid any intoxicants. Now that sounds pretty easy, but it does not leave a lot of room for excuses. Like not taking a life… this not only means I probably don’t believe in abortion, but it also means I don’t believe in going off to war and killing someone or sitting in a room with a joy stick and blowing up a truck in Pakistan. It also means I am not going to kill a doctor who might perform an abortion for whatever reason… nor would I pass legislation that might send young women to the back alley coat-hanger “doctors.” But not killing also means I do not condone the killing of animals, yet I do occasionally eat meat or else I suffer from protein deficiency. I also feed meat products to my cats as they are definitely not vegetarians! So, in that sense, I fail as an aspiring Buddhist. In my old age, the other 4 Precepts are a piece of cake (sugar and gluten free, thank you.)

It is hard to believe it is September. It still feels strange to not be in a panic trying to get all the last minute things done before school starts. I hate to confess I do not miss teaching - wait, let me clarify that. I DO miss teaching, but I do not miss what the schools have become. I miss being with kids, I miss sharing the joy of learning, the amazement of their creative minds, but not the sorrow of those minds that have shut down to the good possibilities of the world. Oh there are so many tragic young people out there – products of drugged parents, Fetal Alcohol Syndrome, and various other kinds of abuse… our wounded babies who will never have the same chances in life as the kid across the street who has been raised with love by clean and sober parents. When I hear the words “We are all created equal…” I think of these kids and struggle with the lump in my throat.

Tomorrow I will see the buses roll by, the little faces at the window so full of hope for a successful new year. For many, it means 2 meals a day that they don’t get in the summer. I watch them roll by and silently wish them well; my hopes and dreams go with them as it went with their teachers who drive by an hour earlier. I know I always had such high hopes for my kids each year. I don’t mean to imply I gave up on them as the year went on, but sometimes the system really does not help. I am not sure I would learn much in the chaotic noisy classrooms of today. “They” have forgotten that some kids need peace and quiet in which to learn and a room with 20 different things going on at once is too much of a distraction for many minds.

  For several weeks now the fall azaleas have been blooming. They are in full flower as I type this and look out the window at them. The early fall blooming camellias are in full bud… in 2 more weeks, they will start to show color. My Aunt gave me these camellias for my birthday at least 20 years ago. The amazing thing is, they bloom their first bloom every year exactly on my birthday. How great is that? In my silly way of thinking I believe that is her way of wishing me a Happy Birthday. Every year people pull in my driveway to ask me what kind of plants they are or where to get them, or just to thank me for having them out there to brighten their way to work or home as they drive by. I have given many baby plants (or seeds) away and love it when folks drop by with pictures of their bushes that I call my “grandchildren” bushes.

A few mornings ago when it was cool enough to turn off the a/c and have an open window, I awoke to a sound that took a minute or two to recognize. The geese are teaching their young to fly in formation. You can just imagine them shouting, “Get behind your mother and stay there!” or “Line your wing tip with your sister’s wing.” “There, that’s better! See how the air flows around you better?” In another month or so, the small flock sounds will be replaced by the sound of a couple hundred geese as they all head south. It always stops me in my tracks as I listen to them and watch them fly over and wonder how many will be back on this same route next spring. I sometimes wonder if I will be here to see and hear them. One thinks these things as they get older, perhaps more so when those NEW numbers appear. My number will change in a couple of weeks. It is very depressing.

  As the seasons change to fall, the spiders seem to start spinning bigger and bigger webs and they seem to be across every path I walk. I try not to break them, but sometimes it happens. I thought this web was different. See the thick white parts every few inches? I looked the spider’s name up a couple days ago when I took the shot but have managed to forget it. Duh.

The back yard is filled with dragonflies. Some of them seem to love to buzz my hair. Did you know some of them make a crackling sound when they fly? I love to photograph them, and some of them are very cooperative, but others, not so much. have you ever watched them dipping into the water? Look carefully! My yard is also filled with butterflies who just seem to love the fall blooming azaleas as much or more than the butterfly bushes. And the leaves are starting to fall!

  oops, sorry.

I am so grateful to have such a beautiful yard and to be able to see the colors and critters. If you look carefully, you will find string beans growing up a camellia, or a tomato plant resting in an azalea. Even tho I have several acres, the sunlight is limited. That limits what grows here. Of course, the lighting changes the colors. The other evening the Strobilanthes seemed so vibrant. What color! My Crape Myrtle blooms later than most of the others in town. It is nice they don’t all bloom at once. Their color seems to blend in with the azaleas. Cool, huh?

 

I am waiting for cooler temps… maybe I will have more energy then… My job list is long. My days are short. My energy level is microscopic! If you are lucky enough to drive by and enjoy my efforts… then I guess it is all worth it.

MY MEMORIAL GARDEN

 

Each season, as I walk around my yard, I look at all the beauty out there... most of my plants came from somebody - well, half of them, anyway. As I look at this or that camellia, clump of daffodils, even some of my trees, I think about the people that gave them to me - most of those folks are gone now - but as the beauty of their loving gift lives on - they live on.  I treasure each bloom, and my heart talks to the one who gave it to me. I send them a little prayer of thanks, be they here or moved on, and pray for their peace and comfort, wherever they are, and that they may have beauty in their current or new life.

        This morning, my grandfather's favorite peony opened. He died in 1954. At the time, I was his only grandchild. Our house in the Poconos has a tenth of a mile of road frontage, most of it planted in now very old peony bushes, all planted by Grandpop. My dad dug this one (and a few others) and brought them here. It’s like a Memorial garden, my place. Old friends and lovers, relatives and acquaintances, former students, neighbors, are all represented in my yard. Each plant, each bloom, is a token of love.

Just yesterday, an old pick-up pulled in the yard, with a middle aged guy and an elderly woman. I did not know them. The gentleman apologized for bothering me… but explained how his mother always made him slow down when they drove past my place. She sat there and just grinned the biggest grin. “Mama’s eye sight ain’t what it used t’ be,” he said, “But she can still see the bright colors of yer ‘zalyers and camalyers, and, what’s them things?” he said pointing to the peonies just opening. “Funny, ain’t it how the camelyers bloom in the winter time? Mama loves to see the red ones in the snow. Made me drive out in that snow last winter just to see your bushes.” The old lady was nodding her head up and down.

“Well, I prob’ly shun’da stopped an’ bothered ye, but mama seen ya out in the yard and wanted to say Thank ye fer bringing a bit of beauty to her world.” (Ye is not part of a religious group speak – it is just part of the old Eastern Shore dialect spoken by many of the old farmers and watermen.)

“Thank ya!” the old woman said as he backed the truck back out onto the road. She waved a little wave with gnarled, tanned fingers, aged by years of hard work. I could just see those hands plucking chickens, pickin’ crabs, canning tomatoes and preserves. She would have recipes in her head for the best pickled watermelon rind, and know exactly how long to cook soft-shelled crabs. I wondered how many diapers those hands had changed and washed and hung on the line to dry. How many little shoes had she tied? How hard had her life been? But how much joy had been there also? How many children did she have? Had she had to bury any of them? And how lucky she was to have a son to take her out on a nasty winter’s day to see my red camellias in the snow, or pull in my yard to thank me for bringing a bit of beauty to the world. That is love. And that is why I work so hard out there.

But sometimes beauty comes in different packages… not always flowers. Living here in a rural area, I get to see a lot of critters people in cities just never get to see. (Although we DID have a MOOSE walk up the street in front of our house in Portland, Maine!) Some critters are all too obvious, the deer running across the road or nibbling on the shrubbery, the coons getting into the left over cat food… but, some of them are not obvious at all, just a chance sighting every now and then. Possum sightings are few, as are seeing foxes, both gray and red, but they are there. Looking up as a shadow passes over, one might see the local bald eagle or a red-tailed hawk. Looking down, there is a world of little critters, blue tailed skinks being the most obvious, and on to the tiny critters with 6 legs.

As I type this, there is an orchard oriole in the ground level birdbath. But he seems to notice any movement at the window, so the pictures come up empty. They are rare around here. Yet cardinals are common as are the bright, flashy little goldfinches that hangout in my yard. Might it be all the thistle feeders I have? Let it be said, I do not take them for granted. I do ply them with feeders filled of their favorite snacks! Of my 4 pairs of cardinals that have spent the winter here, I have found the nesting places of 3 of the couples and their babies. One family is in the huge Acuba outside the bathroom window, the other 2 families are in camellias. I am not sure about couple #4.

Once in a while, looking straight ahead holds some amazing surprises. I almost leaned my shovel against this tree trunk – caught it just in time – and came inside to grab the camera. This happy couple were fortunately still there resting on the tree trunk. Even driving by on the tractor and loading tons of mulch a couple feet away did not disturb them. But then, they are Luna moths, and they only fly around at night.

If you know me at all, you know how difficult it is to walk and do things, but staying as active as possible helps my serenity. Working out in the yard and having my little veggie garden “does something” for me. There is a sense of peace playing in the dirt, and a sense of comfort from being surrounded by so much beauty and the gifts from those who love and have loved me. And there is always the 4 legged company I have whenever out in the yard, the little yellow cat that rolls over to get his tummy rubbed. He, too, was a gift… a gift that blew in on a hurricane, Hurricane Isabel. I wonder who loved him before I did. This is his home now, and he guards it fiercely. I don’t know for sure what happened to him to make him leave his first home all those years ago, but he, too, has found peace here.

Life is good.

ODDS and ENDS

 

OTHERWISE known as miscellaneous whatevers…

If you listen to the news, they have all proclaimed the end of summer, and I for one will be glad to say good-bye to almost 40 days of 90 degree temps. I didn’t mind the heat when I lived in Turkey, because I did not have the Eastern Shore’s humidity to deal with. But, when you live 2 miles from the Ocean and 2 miles from the Chesapeake Bay, it tends to get a bit humid! So, if you want to say summer is over on Labor Day, OK, but I, personally, will wait until September 22^nd or 23^rd, depending on the calendar you look at. On the other hand, the mornings are cooler… a morning in the 60s sure beats waking up to the 80s, phew! In fact, it has been so cool in the mornings, the Rat (Rascal) is now looking for a spot of sunlight first thing in the morning, claiming it as his own.

While it is true the leaves have been falling since July because of the drought, they have not had any autumn colors… and there it was, the beginning of the Labor Day week-end – the first autumn looking leaf in the middle of the driveway.

Hmmm, maybe I should have called this ends and odds, since I seem to have started with ends. On the other hand, calling a cat the Rat probably qualifies as ODD, and indeed, Rascal is truly odd. He is a hair stylist in his spare time. Definitely odd, that little boy.

Anyway, in the odd department is this little guy, sitting on the grill cover     – I personally think of him as being beautiful, but everyone else who saw him did the Eeeeeeeewwwwwww sound. One great macho friend wanted to squash him. (He did not get the chance.) I thought it was like this little guy was wearing gold jewelry. Really, now, isn’t he pretty? (or she? I have no way of knowing) So far I have not found him in my Butterfly/Moth Field guide… but then I have not looked thru but 2 of them.

Another End – this is the old Bailey’s Florist shop… it stood down town for as long as I can remember, not long by European standards, very new by Middle East standards… anyway, it is now gone, there is just a big empty spot where it used to stand, bare earth covered with hay. I will not get into the political mess involved in the purchase of the building by the Town or the triumph of the current mayor who had it destroyed. Torn down does not seem to be the correct word – destroyed is.

RIP – Rest In Pieces.

In the odd department, this red coleus is well over 4 feet high. St Francis is almost invisible in the cover of Strobilanthes and coleus. The bird bath has disappeared.

BACKYARD BEAUTY

BEAUTY is all around us... it comes in all sizes, colors and shapes... all we have to do is look for it. It might be a tiny surprise like this little guy (a tiger beetle?) or a bigger scene. The azaleas are still opening, peonies are in bud and irises are not far behind. All the veggie plants are in the ground... the frost from a couple mornings ago did not hit my place. How lucky is that? Most of the trees have their leaves and the grass has been cut for the 3rd time. The mulch pile is slowly getting smaller. Hopefully I will soon have time to take a sit-down on my "new and improved" patio! Have a Happy First of May!