CH in NB

Unexpected Surprise on a Hike in the Rocky Mountains

2011-08-04T11:36:00.000-05:00

When is the last time you were the recipient of a totally unexpected good deed from a stranger? Ours happened yesterday, and the story is worth re-telling.

We set our for a hike in the mountains, and, never having tried the area around Ward, Colorado (elev. 9000+ feet) we decided to try that area. One of our guidebooks had suggested the Brainard Lake area as especially promising. We drove into Ward, one of the hardscrabble Colorado towns not frequented by tourists. If you ever wonder where the 1960s counterculture went, just take a trip through towns like Ward. I stopped at the general store (advice from locals is always welcome) and found a friendly attendant who suggested if I did not want to purchase a map, I could take a look at the store copy. As I said, the old counterculture is alive and well. She suggested the Sourdough Trail because it is a loop (hikers end up where they began) and she also suggested that the entrance fee for cars to Brainard State Park is $9.00, but we could probably park just outside the park entrance for free. I love insiders' advice!

So we headed up, up, up to Brainard State Park, and left the car outside the entrance. Cost savings: one map and one parking fee. The hike to the Sourdough Trail was an easy two miles; the trail was well marked; and, best of all, we were the ONLY ones on the trail. We stopped several times just to listen to the silence. The Sourdough Trail was wonderful, proceeding through aspen groves, pine forests not yet ravaged by the pernicious beetle that has hit the Western Slope so badly, and came out into a huge meadow full of wildflowers just about lunchtime. After lunch in our paradise, we decided it was time for a little yoga in the wild. Perfect!

We faithfully followed Sourdough trail signs and cam out at Camp Dick campgrounds, which did not look at all like we remembered. We hiked on down the road, assuming we would arrive at the entrance and our car and found that the trail had not been a loop at all! When we found a campground host, he got out his map and we found that we were over 9 miles from where we had entered. After a 9 mile hike, we had 9 miles to go? Major panic.

Then this friendly stranger from Yuma, AZ, working here in the summer, asked if we would like for him to drive us to our car. Would we like it! We were overjoyed. After we returned to our car, we went back to the store in Ward, and this time we purchased a map. It turns out that there is a loop, but it involves switching to the Wapiti ski trail halfway around the loop. If we had only known....

It was an adventure. And we lived to tell about it and to hike another day.

Blessed Event?

2011-05-25T09:30:00.000-05:00

Yesterday morning Noreen noticed a deer on the berm, just a few feet from our bedroom windows, so she rushed outside to shoo it away. The deer seemed resistant and acted as if she did not want to leave. Noreen came back in saying, "those deer are so persistent! I couldn't get that one deer out of the yard."

Fast forward an hour or so when the furniture repair people were arriving to return some furniture we were having fixed. The truck driver said, "look at that little bitty deer." I no longer jump when I hear mention of wildlife in our neighborhood (unless it is really wild) so I just commented that we get a lot of deer around here. When he said he had never seen a deer so small, I decided I had to take a look. So here is what I found:

This fawn had just been born! No wonder the Mama had been hanging around! Either she had heard that there are good eats at this birthing station or she had just given birth and was reluctant to get too far away from her fawn.

This baby was so still and so serene that I thought something must be wrong with it, and I started imagining all kinds of bad scenarios such as its having been abandoned by its mother, and the like. It was even willing for me to rush inside and grab the camera and then comfortable posing while I shot pictures.

I continued checking on the fawn every 30 minutes or so, and, sure enough, in about an hour the spot was bare. Mama must have rescued Bambi!

Some animal faces are so homely that I say it is a face that only a mother could love. In this case, I'd say this is a face that everyone can love.

Progress on the mint

2011-04-28T22:03:00.000-05:00

The mint is growing well, and it's a good thing, as the Kentucky Derby is not far off! This year we have four varieties of mint--spearmint, peppermint, orange mint, and basil mint. Sounds like the basis for some awesome mint juleps!

The Spring Garden

2011-04-18T23:47:00.000-05:00

The spring garden is alive and well, and we are enjoying its bounty daily.

I am still learning what can grow when in this new environment, so the picture represents both fall and spring plantings. The carrots on the left were sown in October, and made it through our strange winter very well. We have been eating the carrots from March on. On the other hand, the beets sown at the same time did not make it through the winter, and the beets on the right were sown in March. The Swiss chard in the pots at the rear were planted from seedlings in October, but they appeared dead as winter yielded to spring in February. Then they started growing again!

The roses and clematis in the back of the picture (the front of the garden) came through the winter perfectly, and the climbing roses have already produced one profusion of fragrant flowers, and are now forming buds for the second bloom. The big surprise was the Lady Banks rose:

This profusion of blossoms was a wonderful surprise! We planted an identical rose near the house which has to date produced one or two puny yellow flowers. This plant--only a year old--was a riot of blossoms for several weeks. How ironic that it is safe (from the deer) inside our fenced compound, since this is the one rose that deer will not nibble on!

The peach tree had many blossoms that are now tiny fruits. The challenge this year will be to harvest the bounty before some critter does (as happened last year).

The nectarine tree (planted bare root last year) had several blossoms which are now tiny fruits, but the apricot tree is still in its youth, and not yet producing. I have big hopes for next year!

The pole beans are growing vigorously, and the peas began producing tender little pea pods almost as soon as the plants were out of the ground.

Hot weather is beginning to set in, so the spring harvest will take place over the next couple of weeks, and tomatoes and peppers will soon take their places.

Fiesta!

2011-04-12T23:46:00.000-05:00

After a long respite, the blog is back! And what better way to bring it back than the river parade at San Antonio's Fiesta!

Almost everyone has heard of San Antonio's famous river walk, the most impressive man-made tourist attraction of any city anywhere. In fact, the San Antonio river is real, but before some genius dreamed up the river walk it was just a sleepy little muddy stream. Now it is a year-round tourist destination, with all its trendy shops, hotels, and restaurants. Well, not exactly a year round destination, as the city fathers drain the river in January to clean out a year's worth of gunk so that the rest of the year it can look pristine. Don't ever make the mistake of a vacation to San Antonio when the "river" is just a smelly trench through town!

And what is Fiesta? A week-long party celebrating San Antonio culture--and the best event is surely the annual river parade. Imagine a parade made up exclusively of people like the Shriners--those men in fezes who ride little motorcycles and have a very good time doing so. This parade is made up of floats with a lot of participants having a lot of fun.

And, there are a lot of spectators, also having a very good time (this year the crowd estimate was 250,000).

This rather large family of ducklings was hoping for bread crumbs from the merry makers, but instead all that was thrown from the floats was candy!

The most fun for me, of course is watching the reaction of the children to the parade, and one child in particular.

Lest it appear that the parade is all fun and games, it is important to note that each float is sponsored by a firm or an organization and highlights one of the children's agencies in San Antonio. This year the Cavaliers, the sponsors of Fiesta, will donate over $200,000 to support children's programs in Bexar County. To date the event has channeled over $2.2 million into such agencies as Boys and Girls Clubs, Eva's Heroes (an organization founded by Eva Longoria for children with special needs), and Child Advocates of San Antonio.

My Christmas Offering--Franz Biebl

2010-12-23T11:45:00.000-06:00

Christmas is so many things to me, and one of the most special aspects of Christmas is the music. Everyone knows Schubert's "Ave Maria," but the version by the German composer Franz Biebl, though lesser known, is even more sublime. This angelic song may sound ancient, but in fact it was written in 1964. The Biebl version was first brought to wide public attention by Chanticleer, but I think this rendition by the St. Olaf Choirs is even better. Listen to it now, and return to it often. Merry Christmas!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aKMPfkbIZ1c&feature=related

Wassailfest

2010-12-03T22:54:00.000-06:00

One thing I have learned after a couple of years in New Braunfels--this town likes a party! And, given the German origins of the area, the celebrations are usually called a Fest. Wassailfest is the official welcome to the Advent Season in preparation for Christmas.

Even though the original settlers were German, the town embraces multiculturalism. No matter that wassail is an English libation: put together the popular warm English beverage and the German heritage and we have a new coinage--Wassailfest!

As thousands of people stroll the cordoned-off streets, merchants offer free wassail, service groups offer all manner of food for sale, and everyone seems to be offering the music of the season. How multicultural is the festival? Well, as we drank English wassail, we were served a German bratwurst wrapped in a Mexican flour tortilla!

Most of all, however, the Wassailfest is about lights, decorations, and music. It seems as if everyone is making music--from choirs to brass bands to a steel drum orchestra.

A children's choir singing in front of the most-decorated house in the downtown area.

A local handbell choir

Another children's choir on the town green

Music came from both young and old

And, of course there was a "living" nativity scene:

What made this manger distinctive is that, rather than the shepherds watching their flocks by night, in this case it was the angels keeping care of the livestock.

Even the courthouse, scene of serious county business, is decked out for Wassailfest!

Backyard Drama

2010-11-30T15:16:00.000-06:00

There is a reason that this fine specimen of a buck will likely go loveless during this fall mating season. The reason? This fellow who is also waiting patiently for the same doe:

Yes, the two pictures were shot on the same day, a few seconds apart.

Advent, 2010

2010-11-23T10:38:00.003-06:00

Advent begins on Sunday, 28 November, which hardly seems possible. Isn't there a lot more autumn ahead of us? I think what is throwing me off is the recent warm spell in Central Texas. It just doesn't "feel" like winter is upon us yet! The weather prognosticators are predicting a cold front will roar through on Thanksgiving afternoon, so perhaps that will aid in the seasonal adjustment.

Trinity Church Wall Street has for several years produced an online Advent Calendar which they offer freely to everyone. The calendar can be accessed daily and can be embedded on blogs and web sites. I discovered the Trinity calendar last year and found it a good devotional tool and I am happy to share it with others. Access the Trinity calendar at this address:

Trinity Wall Street Advent Calendar

Blessed Advent!

The Colors of Autumn

2010-11-16T11:31:00.000-06:00

One of the most colorful events of autumn I have ever experienced is a cranberry harvest, the time when the bogs are flooded and the berries separated from the scrubby bushes they grew on. The berries rise to the top of the water in an explosion of color that rivals the foliage surrounding the bogs.

The best place I have found to marvel at the riot of crimson is Carver, Massachusetts, a town settled by liberated slaves, and the best time for observing the harvest from the dry shoreline is Columbus Day weekend.

First the bog is flooded by a system of locks and dams.

Then a contraption that looks like a giant tricycle is run through the bog, releasing the berries from the bushes where they have been growing all summer.

At first there are only a few berries that slowly float to the top as the harvester steers through the bog.

As the labor continues, more and more berries appear.

Slowly the flooded bog looks less like a pond and more like an artist's palate.

The bog changes right before your eyes.

Who ever thought that cranberries are simply red? In fact they are crimson, pink, white, and every shade of red in between.

As you watch the palate evolve before your eyes, slight currents in the water flow through the berries making pictures that move.

Performance art in nature!

Click on any of the pictures for a larger view, and you can almost see the picture change before your eyes.

Early Winter? Detour to Cape Cod?

2010-11-11T23:18:00.000-06:00

When you look at these pictures, it is easy to imagine a winter snow scene. Or even a visit to the Cape Cod National Seashore just down from Provincetown.

In fact, this is the Tularosa Basin in New Mexico, the world's largest gypsum dune field, aka White Sands National Monument.

We detoured to White Sands after leaving Ruidoso, wending our way back to the El Paso Airport by a circuitous route, and we were glad we did so. The area is both unique and impressive. And we were also glad that there were no missile firings on the day of our visit. The monument is closed when there are "activities" at the nearby White Sands Missile Base.

The gypsum of White Sands (hydrous calcium sulfate) comes from a dessicating lakebed to the west, with the wind producing the dunes usually seen at a seashore. These are "active" dunes, moving as much as 30 feet per year. The movement comes as the wind blows the sand into a dune, which gets higher and higher, making the leading edge of the dune (the slipface) steeper and steeper. Finally the force of gravity pulls the dune down, now a little farther to the east than when the movement started, and the entire cycle begins again.

The area averages about 10 inches of precipitation each year, which makes it even more astounding that the dunes sustain substantial animal and plant life.

Some plants have learned to adapt to the harsh conditions by quickly growing an elongated stem when a windstorm has buried the plant under a ton of sand. The plant literally digs itself out.

How I long to return to this magnificent area at dawn and at dusk, when shadows play over the dunes!

A Journey Back in Time

2010-11-10T16:01:00.000-06:00

Perusing one of the tourist brochures of the Ruidoso region, this entry caught our attention:

Lincoln is a village forgotten by time. Its only street is lined with adobe homes and

buildings dating from its colorful and often violent past. There are no

gas stations or convenience stores in Lincoln, and only one public

telephone. It wasn't always so peaceful. Gunshots, some fired by the

infamous outlaw Henry McCarty alias William H.Bonney (Billy the Kid)

often echoed in the surrounding hills during Lincoln's territorial days.

Today's visitors can see the Old Lincoln County Courthouse Museum and

walk in the footsteps of Pat Garrett, Billy the Kid, and other

characters of the Old West--famous or obscure. Because it looks much as

it did a century ago, it isn't hard to picture the Kid's escape from the

courthouse jail, the shootouts, and the more peaceful inhabitants taking

cover as bullets flew.

So we decided to drive over and check it out for ourselves. Enjoy the images! You can click on any image to enlarge it on your screen.

Serendipity

2010-11-08T23:31:00.000-06:00

The first family in American art for many years has been the clan begun by N.C. Wyeth, an accomplished artist best known for illustrations in children’s books. N.C. Wyeth’s greatest contribution to American art, however, was surely his children whom he mentored and their children still active today. We had no expectation of encountering the Wyeth circle on our trip to New Mexico, and the encounter came about in an unusual way.

N.C. Wyeth’s famous son, Andrew Wyeth, is one of the best-loved American artists of the twentieth century. We visited the Farnsworth Museum http://www.farnsworthmuseum.org/wyeth-center in Maine several times while we lived in New England, a wonderful little museum with a renowned collection of works by the Wyeth family. Though the Wyeths are especially associated with New England and Pennsylvania, where Andrew lived and worked for most of his life, one member of the family went west. Henrietta Wyeth, sister of Andrew, and also a student of her father, met the dashing West Point graduate Peter Hurd, who came to N.C. Wyeth for art instruction. Later Henrietta and Peter married, and they returned to Peter’s native New Mexico, where they lived and worked for the rest of their lives.

Years ago my father purchased an original lithograph by Peter Hurd which I have now had since his death. Though Peter Hurd never achieved the fame of his brother in law Andrew, he remains one of the important western artists still today. Which brings us to our “discovery” on a trip to the western village of Lincoln, New Mexico, the last stronghold of the notorious Billy the Kid.

While driving from Ruidoso to Lincoln we whizzed by a road marked “Peter Hurd Loop,” made a hasty U turn and drove into a dusty village (no paved roads) called San Patricio, and arrived at the La Rinconda Gallery http://www.wyethartists.com/ . There we met a chatty curator with a vague personal relationship with Michael Hurd, the son of Peter and Henrietta, and while we roamed the galleries displaying prints and paintings of the Wyeth clan, Michael himself came in and introduced himself.

There had been no mention of La Rinconda in the tourist brochures we consulted, so we chalked this encounter up solely to serendipity. As was this parish church in San Patricio, a pure and simple example of New Mexico church architecture.

Pistachios

2010-11-07T14:26:00.000-06:00

If anyone had asked, I would have said that pistachios come from California, like almost every other agricultural crop (avocados, strawberries, marijuana, etc.) On this trip we learned that pistachios also come from New Mexico!

Imagine our surprise, driving through the high plains—mountains still ahead of us—to spot an orchard by the road, right there in the desert. Row after row of pistachio trees ran right up to the highway, with roadside businesses hawking the bounty of the arid countryside.

This discovery called for a stop—a good thing. How could we have missed the world’s largest pistachio?

And what treasures the vendors had to tempt the weary traveler? Pistachios with chile pepper seasoning, habanero popcorn, and most surprising of all, lollipops with a genuine stinging scorpion embedded in the solidified high-fructose corn syrup! The desert is indeed full of bounty if one only knows where to look.

A Visit to New Mexico

2010-11-06T23:27:00.001-05:00

Thirty four years ago in August, 1976, we went to a new resort for our honeymoon—the Inn of the Mountain Gods, located in the ancestral home of the Mescalero Apaches, just outside Ruidoso, New Mexico. This week, to celebrate Noreen’s birthday, we returned to the Inn to see if the facility and the environs had improved over what we experienced then. The short answer is that everything was better even than we had remembered it.

One can have no doubt why this region was sacred to the Mescaleros. Driving out of El Paso the traveler sees mile after mile of desert, displaying every shade of grey and brown. Leaving Alamogardo, however, the road begins to climb, the hills turn into mountains, and green replaces brown. Then you catch a glimpse of Sierra Blanca, the 12,000 foot peak (site of the downhill area Ski Apache) which presides over these lands. The effect is magical indeed.

The modest buildings of the Inn of the Mountain Gods have been replaced by a new facility situated so that Sierra Blanca is always visible from the huge picture windows, changing in appearance during the hours of the day as the sun rises in the sky and as clouds move by.

We dined looking at Sierra Blanca, and we left our bedroom drapes open to glance at it when we were in our room. One day we drove to the base of Ski Apache and hiked up onto the mountain to experience it that way as well.

We ran each morning across the lake from the hotel in the foothills of Sierra Blanca, and one morning were treated to a small herd of elk grazing on our trail through the woods. We learned later that the Mescaleros have a herd of approximately 4200 elk that they manage in the tribal lands. One night we tried a tenderloin of elk for dinner (verdict: sweet and delicious).

One memory from 1976 was the discovery of a sweet little church in the woods—the Church of the Holy Mount—so we decided to seek it out on this trip. The church is still there, though somewhat enlarged, and now with the town of Ruidoso all around it. The view of Sierra Blanca over the altar is still as breathtaking as we had remembered it. No wonder the legend over the front door of the church is from the Psalms: “I will lift my eyes to the hills.”

Inside the church we found a new addition—a wooden statue of San Miguel, carved by a local artist. The sculptor rendered his own local vision of Revelation 12:9—the “satan” whom San Miguel is vanquishing is a western rattlesnake, whose eyes are fixed squarely on those who come to view the sculpture.

More of our “finds” to follow.

Pepper Harvest

2010-08-17T22:47:00.000-05:00

I don't know why these are called the "dog days" of summer. I wouldn't send my dog out into the heat of the afternoons we have been experiencing. But what is not good for dogs--especially long-haired Cavaliers--is great for peppers. The peppers (habaneros, poblanos, serranos) just keep coming and coming. So I decided it was time to do something with the abundance.

Here is the harvest of a couple of days:

First, the peppers were picked--very carefully. Most often I have to cut the fruits from the stems so that I don't break off part of the stem with the pepper. When I am dealing with this volume, by experience I have learned every step must be accomplished by wearing latex gloves. Habaneros, especially, can linger on the hands for days. They are that powerful. The next step was to rinse the peppers, but in fact there is rarely any insect damage to the peppers. Insects know not to bother them.

The next step--the drying process:

I added some wood chips to impart a smoky flavor and then set the grill to its lowest setting--200 degrees is ideal. It took several hours, but here is the result:

Now these peppers are ready to flavor a winter's worth of chilis and stews. It's a good thing I won't be entering the St. James's Chili Cook Off this year--they would have to retire the trophy!

Clematis Paniculata

2010-08-09T15:53:00.000-05:00

This is the story of clematis paniculata. I spent most of my life thinking that clematis was pronounced "cle-maa'-tis" until someone gently informed me that "clematis" is pronounced cle'-muh-tis. Just so we know what we are talking about here.

When we constructed the deer-proof garden in the back forty, we decided that it would be fun to have some flowering plants in addition to the vegetables, so I erected some lattice work with the idea of having several climbing plants that could perhaps be seen from the house. Climbing roses were a natural choice, but I thought a clematis would be nice--if one could be found that would withstand the heat of the Hill Country. There are lots of clematises--a plant that we had grown both in Massachusetts and Connecticut--so the question was which clematis to choose. Clematises are somewhat particular about their growing conditions, I knew from experience. They like their heads in the sun but their feet in the cool shade. I knew we would have no trouble with the first requirement (there is lots of sun) but I figured the only way for cool roots would be an abundance of mulch.

Last winter as the garden catalogs arrived, I salivated once again at the publication of White Flower Farm. It's not only the lushest plant catalog you can find, but we knew the nursery, located in Litchfield, Connecticut, about 30 miles from our former home. White Flower Farm is a place to visit as often as possible--it is a dream nursery.

I spotted the beautiful picture of clematis paniculata (also called Sweet Autumn Clematis)--an autumn-blooming clematis with masses of tiny white flowers, and I thought, perfect! A clematis that would bloom when everything else was going dormant, so I called and placed my order. The WFF operator informed me that clematis paniculata would not grow in my region, and they could not guarantee its survival. Buoyed by optimism, I said to send it anyway--I would take my chances. Unfortunately, the order was not due to be shipped until the first of May (it takes a while for Connecticut-grown plants to emerge from their winter dormancy) so I was resigned to waiting--knowing, however, that "spring" begins in these parts in February.

A few weeks later I was nosing around a local nursery, which still featured only a few, sad-looking plants that were still in their winter rest period, when I came across--a single clematis paniculata! I asked the attendant if the plant would grow in our climate; when she assured me that it would, I bought the plant on the spot, came home and called WFF and canceled my order. The dormant clematis went into the raised bed along with two climbing roses, and a lot of mulch was added to keep the soil around the roots as cool as possible when the hot summer sun was blazing.

Imagine my surprise when the autumn-blooming plant began budding in July and then began blooming around the first of August! Here it is, in all its glory.

I would say that the plant seems rather happy in its new home!

And here is a close up of the multitude of blossoms.

Should I let White Flower Farm know that clematis paniculata in fact flourishes in the Hill Country?

The Gardener's Dilemma

2010-08-05T16:30:00.000-05:00

Or at least one of the gardener's dilemmas. Discarding plants, that is.

Directions for sowing seeds always indicates to space seeds far enough apart that they will have room to grow and to pull up seedlings that are crowding their neighbors. I confess: I hate to pull up a perfectly good seedling and throw it away. I will do it, of course, but I hate wasting a perfectly good seedling. Sometimes I wait until the seedlings are a little bigger and then try transplanting seedlings to more commodious parts of the garden (usually not successful).

So that leads me to the lovely Brandywine tomato plant I found in a nursery last spring. There was only one plant of this heirloom tomato that I had always wanted to grow, so I grabbed it eagerly and brought it home to the new raised bed I had just constructed. I knew that it was a little early in the year for cold sensitive plants, like basil and tomatoes, but I decided to take a chance. Well, that night the temperature dipped down into the lower 30s, and here is the result:

If I had only waited!

So I pulled my Brandywine plant from the ground, resolved to be more patient in the future. But I just could not stand to toss the shriveled plant onto the compost pit, so I stuck it in a pot--just in case. A few days later the plant bravely put forth a new leaf in the warm spring Texas sun, and then another. Eventually, the plant looked like a real plant again (not pretty, I must admit--really rather misshapen).

So I decided to find another corner of the garden to tuck this plant into--just in case. Yesterday, after returning from our vacation, "Brandywine" welcomed me home with these three beautiful fruits:

Yes, there is a little insect bite in the tomato on the right--evidence that there were no poisons or chemicals used on this dainty heirloom tomato. Tonight will be the time to savor the "fruits of my labor"--and to rejoice that the blasted plant did not get thrown onto the compost pit.

The Secret of Eternal Life?

2010-07-22T11:30:00.000-05:00

The banana tree. That's right, bananas--as in long, yellow fruit. Here's the story.

When we moved into this house in the Texas Hill Country about 18 months ago, the former owners had landscaped the property with banana trees. There was a large banana tree right next to the front door which, when we first viewed the house, had some bananas ready for picking. There was another large banana tree next to the garage and a third clump of banana trees at the far corner of the front of the house. Now, I love bananas (especially before they become over ripe) but we did not exactly want our house to look like it belonged in Central America. We both agreed that the banana trees did not add to the look we wanted in a house. The banana trees had to go.

Before commencing the formidable removal task ahead of me, I did some reading about banana trees, which will in fact grow and flourish in this part of the country, but which also die back in winter, leaving a large display of brown banana leaves. Yuk. I learned also that the banana tree is almost all water (it must be a very thirsty plant, also not good for these parts where rain is sporadic and unpredictable). Finally, I learned that coral snakes are attracted to banana trees because of the abundance of water around them. Horrors! The most poisonous North American reptile! For sure, the banana trees had to go.

Removing those trees was my first experience dealing with a huge tropical plant. When I cut off the tree at the base, I found why it is characterized as being hydrophilic: the tree gushed water as if I had just hit a subterranean spring. The root excavation process was challenging, as each tree had huge roots. Knowing that some plants can regenerate from even a small portion of rootstock, I removed all of the roots. Since the trees did not return to these spots, I know I got all the roots.

What to do with the wheelbarrows full of banana roots? I dumped them at the back of the property behind the compost, figuring that eventually they would decompose and turn into soil nourishment. After winter had passed, I undertook to create a berm to block some of the unsightly areas of the back of the yard, and I realized that those old, rotting banana roots would provide a good base over which I could put top soil as I built up the berm. Surely those roots which had been out of the ground, subjected to the elements for several months, were harmless.

That's when I learned that banana trees seem to have acquired the gift of eternal life. The berm is working. The tithonia and oleander I have planted in the berm block the unattractive areas in the back of the yard. But guess what? A banana tree lives! Eighteen months after exhumation, a banana tree is growing happily as if I had planted it and nurtured it. I fear that banana trees may be a permanent fixture at this address!

The Daily Harvest

2010-07-21T22:33:00.001-05:00

It is mid July in the Hill Country, and that means it is hot. When the temperature rises, some of the crops in the garden celebrate summer with vigor. Here is the harvest for today (click on the picture for a full view):

"Most gracious God, by whose knowledge the depths are broken up and the clouds drop down the dew; We yield thee hearty thanks and praise for the return of seedtime and harvest, for the increase of the ground and the gathering in of its fruits, and for all the other blessings of thy merciful providence bestowed upon this nation and people. And, we beseech thee, give us a sense of these great mercies, such as may appear in our lives by a humble, holy, and obedient walking before thee all our days; through Jesus Christ our Lord, to whom, with thee and the Holy Ghost be all honor and glory, world without end. Amen" (Book of Common Prayer)

Tithonia to the Rescue!

2010-07-15T16:32:00.001-05:00

We have had a break in our company for a while, so I can return to the blog. And the subject today is tithonia (sometimes called Mexican sunflower).

The challenge was to hide a rather unsightly septic apparatus from the house and the casita. Sometime in the future, perhaps, when I am really hard up for a topic, I might write about the unusual septic systems in this part of the country--not now.

Suffice it to say that we wanted an attractive living blockade, so while thumbing through garden catalogues last winter I hit on the annual tithonia--which was a new plant to me. As regular readers will understand, the gardening solution to our problem needed to be 1) deer proof, and 2) able to withstand the heat of a Hill Country summer. From the catalogue description, and from what I could gather from the internet, tithonia seemed to fill the bill.

The results could not be more pleasing!

The plants are 5-7 feet tall and are full of bright orange flowers. The stand is attractive from the house and the flowers seem to appeal both to hummingbirds and butterflies.

Here is a closer view of these beautiful blossoms, which seem never to wilt, even on the hottest days:

And this closeup will show you what a stunning flower this is, with its strong upright stem (perfect for cutting):

Today I decided to deadhead the spent blossoms. Here are the seeds for next year's tithonia fence!

Our Domestic Deer Drama

2010-06-30T22:34:00.000-05:00

There's almost always some drama going on in the backyard. This afternoon it was this little family scene.

Mama grazes while the babies snooze.

Then they hear a sound--your patient photographer?

Is it real danger? Or a false alarm?

It's definitely time to look for safer pastures.

This drama is over for today. What will tomorrow bring?

Harvesting Shallots

2010-06-25T22:22:00.000-05:00

This year with some trepidation I decided to try growing shallots--the aristocrats of the onion family. This was my first attempt at any kind of onions--and my first garden in the Hill Country--so I was not sure if there would be a harvest or not. Well, I am happy to say that the shallot harvest is now in progress.

I set aside one bed in the new garden for blackberries, but knowing that the bushes would take a season or two to grow and spread in the bed, I thought, why not fill up that space around the perimeter of the bed with shallots! Hence the great shallot experiment.

I wish I could remember the date for planting the little shallot bulblets, but it was probably some time in March or April. What I read about harvesting shallots seemed to indicate that one would know when the shallots were ready to harvest, as the bulbs would push out of the ground and the tops would begin to turn brown. Sure enough, over the past two weeks, that is exactly what is happening to the plants around the blackberries.

The bulbs when dug need to be set aside to dry--but not in the sun!

Here is a basket of shallots just dug from the ground--placed in the grass for purposes of the picture, but residing at present in the warm, dry garage, out of the sun.

Here they are drying with air circulating around them.

These shallots look ready to eat, but the conventional wisdom is to allow the bulbs to continue to rest for a month or so after harvest to avoid a bitter taste,

From what I can tell, shallots are often planted in the fall, so my plan is to save several of the choice bulbs as planting stock for October. The rest will be consumed!

Floods are powerful--and deadly

2010-06-10T23:24:00.000-05:00

Today I found out that "church" is an active verb.

Yesterday morning, snug in my bed, I could tell this was no ordinary storm. Usually, thunderstorms come quickly and pass over just as quickly. You can hear the thunder in the distance, count the lag between the flash of lightning and the clap of thunder, and tell how far off the thunder is. As the lag becomes shorter and shorter, the low pressure area is coming closer; the thunder clap and the lightning are almost simultaneous--and then the lag gets longer again as the storm passes on.

This storm was different. The lightning and the thunder were almost simultaneous, again and again. The rain came in torrents, and the storm stalled over New Braunfels. We had 11 to 13 inches of rain in the course of about three hours. San Marcos, a few miles to the north had one half inch; Canyon Lake a few miles to the west, a half inch.

Our friends Cathi and Craig--who live on the banks of the Guadalupe River--experienced a flood of epic proportions in their neighborhood. As the waters raged behind their house (and then suddenly in their house) they heard the cries of a child coming from the river and Craig went into the turgid waters, already polluted from a sewage treatment plant that had been inundated, and rescued the 11 year old girl who had been camping in an area campground with her parents. Later in the day she was reunited with her parents who had been swept downstream--her mother 5 miles away.

Craig and Cathi's house was basically destroyed, and today church members gathered at the house to begin the salvage operation. All day long people slopped through the viscous, polluted mud in the house to rescue the items that had been perched above the high water line, to clean those pieces which could be salvaged, and to begin the monumental disposal operation. I have rarely witnessed such acts of love--and hard work in the blazin sun on a hot and humid day.

I watched a trash truck driver stop his route to allow us time to cram as much of the debris as possible into the truck. I saw a stranger stop by to say that in the first recovery efforts yesterday afternoon, she had taken some of the goods to dry ground in her truck. There was a bag of clothes in the materials; today she returned the clothes, all washed and clean.

Cathi sobbed in my arms as the tow truck came to take her ruined, flooded car away, and I found it hard to say anything because of the lump in my throat.

At noon a carload of Subway sandwiches arrived unexpectedly; bottles of cold (pure) water appeared throughout the day.

All day long, the mantra that went through my head were the words of the medieval St. Julian of Norwich: "all will be well." I know that all will be well, but in the midst of that kind of devastation it is almost hard to believe that things will work out.

In the meantime, however, watching the uncomplaining workers sloshing through the filth and destruction, I saw church in action. Indeed, "church" is an active verb.

If Butterflies are the Cinderellas of the Garden

2010-06-07T23:03:00.000-05:00

Then moths must be the ugly stepsisters.

Butterflies start out as caterpillars, and sometimes they resemble Cinderella before her fairy godmother transformed her into a princess for the ball. As, for example, this fellow:

This homely little fellow (or gal) appears at the ball in a few weeks dressed to the nines:

Consider the lowly moth. Drawn to a candle flame, where it self immolates. Destroyer of woolen sweaters unprotected by moth balls. Moths don't have a very good press, do they?

Imagine my delight at stumbling on this little creature (maybe 7/8ths of a inch if it has just taken a deep breath) who appeared one day recently on a blue salvia plant:

So obliging, that he actually waited until I could run into the house, grab the camera, and snap on the macro lens, to allow two more pictures:

With the help of the internet (and a moth expert) I was able to identify the visitor as Pyrausta inornatalis, a species that favors--salvia!

This ugly stepsister does not have to hang her head in shame alongside Cinderella.

The Garden, part 2

2010-06-04T23:26:00.001-05:00

First of all, the garden is still a work in progress. Truth to tell, it probably always will be a work in progress. Consider this posting, then, a progress update.

As you can tell from the "before" shots, the task of carving out a garden was formidable, so I am happy with what we have been able to accomplish in the past nine months. Here is how the garden looked a week ago when I took camera in hand out back.

First of all, the path to the garden. The purpose of this little preliminary garden was to block the view of the septic system from our casita in back of the house, where we frequently sit in the evenings and entertain friends. From this angle, you can see the exposed parts of the septic system, but it is obscured from view from the house by the plantings and the rock walls. The oleanders are still small, as they were grown from seed that I gathered in January, 2009, soon after we arrived. I planted 24 seeds and now have 20 oleander "yearlings"!

A delivery truck deposited four yards of crushed granite at the end of the driveway, which was then conveyed, one wheelbarrow at a time, to create the path down to the garden.

The plan is eventually to have the area around the path (outside the fence) planted with native plants and grasses that deer do not find palatable. So far, they have not nibbled on any of these plantings. I see the telltale cloven hoof footprints around these plants often in the mornings, but have not noticed that any of the plants were bothered.

I guess it was not really necessary to have a sign that says "Garden" at the entrance, but I couldn't resist the metal sign when I spotted it in a local store.

This is the first raised bed I constructed, the one you can see in the bleak "before" picture in the previous post. The prolific plant in the foreground is anise hyssop, something we particularly enjoyed in Connecticut. We'll see if it can survive a Hill Country summer! This bed had lettuce, spinach, arugula, and beets all winter--which we enjoyed until the weather turned warm and these cool-weather plants all bolted. It also has oregano, marjoram, dill, basil, and tarragon. The tree to the back is a peach.

The mint is planted outside the raised beds so that it does not take over the garden. These are the plants that provided the crucial ingredient for our Kentucky Derby party.

On the far side of the garden is a bed for blackberries. Since the blackberry plants came from a mail order nursery, they were small and looked rather lost in this bed, so I decided in this first year to make the bed into a blackberry-shallot bed. I have never before raised shallots, and I had no idea how they would fare. As you can see, we will have in a short while a bountiful harvest of shallots! The tree in the foreground is a nectarine, also from a mail order nursery, planted bare root in February. The tree in the rear is an apricot.

This is a picture of the same bed from the other direction. We love hibiscus, but so do the deer! These hibiscus plants are safe, and the deer can only look and salivate.

This is a shot of the front of the garden. Noreen wanted to have flowers as well as vegetables, so this raised bed is given over to two climbing roses, an autumn-blooming clematis (clematis paniculata), and assorted other flowers.

This is the bed with peppers, tomatoes, purple basil, and green beans.

I was lucky enough to find a peach tree locally last fall just after the fence was erected, so the peach was planted in October. There are far too many peaches for a tree of this size, so to protect the slender branches, I have culled several peaches, much as it hurt me to do so.

This little sign--a gift from Brian and his family--is displayed prominently at the entrance to the garden. A reminder, indeed, that "gardening tills the soul."

The Garden, part 1

2010-06-01T23:02:00.001-05:00

I often write about the garden, and I have had several requests from occasional readers of the blog to show some pictures. Well, I will do so, but I think in all fairness I will have to show some "before and after" pictures. So this part one will consist of the "before" pictures. "After" pictures will follow.

We moved into this little corner of the Texas Hill Country in November, 2008. The one acre plot did have some grass and plantings around the house, but most of the lot consisted of rocks--thousands (millions?) of the native limestone. Some small rocks, but a lot of boulders.

And, of course, prickly pear cactus! What you cannot tell from these pictures is that most of the rocks rest comfortably below the surface of the soil. Stick a fork in the soil, and you hit a rock!

On average, there is about four inches of limey (alkaline) topsoil in the landscape. Below that topsoil are rocks.

I spent the spring and summer of 2009 trying to figure out what the deer would not eat. The problem was that this area was in the midst of a drought and the deer population was very stressed. The result was, they seemed to eat everything--discouraging, to say the least.

The challenges were, then, first, to work around the rocks; second, to secure enough real soil that plants could grow; and third, to keep Bambi and his extended family OUT.

The solution was to dig out as many rocks as possible--slowly, one rock at a time; and then to construct raised beds. The project began in earnest in September, 2009--after the blistering heat of summer had dissipated.

This is the first raised bed, looking very lonely in the midst of weeds and rocks--a shot taken after the long, hot summer of 2009 was coming to an end.

This is not to say that nothing ever grew in this barren soil. During the summer, even in the middle of a drought, this area was absolutely filled with thistles.

How many thistle seeds (which look like dandelion seeds) do you figure were lying in the thin soil waiting to spring forth in the spring of 2010?

Emboldened by that one modest raised bed, more were undertaken. And, of course, the area was enclosed by a deer-proof fence (which has proved reliable in its first year of use--excepting the fawn which managed to sneak through.)

As rocks came out of the ground, the natural thing to do was to use them in constructing walls and a path to the garden. Did you ever wonder why New England has so many picturesque rock walls? What else were farmers to do with the rocks they dug out of the soil in their attempt to cultivate fields to be productive?

So that's how the garden began through the winter of 2009 and the beginning of 2010. In my next post, I will display some "after" pictures. Not that the project is completed: a garden is always a work in progress!

Interloper in the Garden

2010-05-26T21:24:00.000-05:00

Yesterday morning I went out to check the garden. What had happened during the night? Any new tomatoes? Peppers? Damage from armadillos (looking for grub worms)? Any more nibbling of the vines growing up the trellis from deer on the outside?

What I was not expecting to find was an intruder in the compost. As I took a pitchfork to turn the pile, I spotted movement behind the volunteer vine growing out of the compost (can't tell yet if it is going to be a zucchini, a pumpkin, or something else.) So I carefully lifted a hairy leaf (which I swear was a foot wide) and found a little brown body nestled in the compost. A brown body with white spots on the back. A rabbit, I thought! But what kind of rabbit has white spots? So I looked again, and the little fawn stared me right in the face and started crying! A fawn the size of a rabbit! He (or she) was struggling mightily to get back through the mesh of the fence whence he had entered. I made a dash for the house to grab the camera. When I returned the fawn was gone. Don't know if I was disappointed or relieved. Who ever knew a new-born fawn was that tiny?

Garden Visitors

2010-05-18T23:41:00.000-05:00

One of the realities of not using pesticides in the garden is unexpected visitors. Given the abundant rains over the winter, we have had an explosion of flora (as witnessed in the wildflower entries) and the juicy, tempting blossoms have attracted an army of caterpillars. I love caterpillars among the wildflowers, but I hold my breath when I spot them on a plant I have nurtured from seed to seedling. These little critters are the ones who have found their way into the garden.

I am finding that identifying the little critters is harder than I thought, but the one just above I think is a Queen caterpillar. I know it looks like a Monarch, but the yellow spots lead me to believe it is a Queen.

So far I have not spotted this homely fellow, which ventured into the herb garden last year:

Here is the modest guy in another pose:

Judging by the fact that this one and two of his siblings were decimating a rue plant (ah, bitter rue)--a favorite food of the Giant Swallowtail, I tagged this one as, in fact, the Giant Swallowtail. The Audubon Guide's description of this caterpillar is telling: "mature caterpillar...resembling a large bird dropping." Indeed!

Jasmine

2010-05-12T17:18:00.000-05:00

I spent the morning planting the last of the evovulus seedlings along the front walk. Evovulus (commonly called "Blue Daze") is a lovely little plant in the same family as morning glories that rewards the gardener with tiny blue flowers all season long. Not only are the plants prolific bloomers, but, like other members of the morning glory family, they seem to be unappetizing to deer.

The best aspect of the morning's planting was the close proximity to our arch, where the jasmine are in full flower at present.

I wish there were some way to send the fragrance of the tiny jasmine flowers over the internet. The delightful aroma hangs in the air and is reminiscent of an evening in a tropical garden.

I first became aware of jasmine in a tiny French village along the Dordogne River--a village that was built right into the steep hillside along the picturesque river. The latitude was unusual for jasmine--which prefer a warmer environment--but the reflected light and heat from the steep cliffs created a microclimate that was perfect for this lovely plant. I decided then and there we had to have jasmine at some time, so that a few weeks during the year we could enjoy that fragrance. And now we do!

Enjoy the beauty--and imagine the aroma!

Fifty Years Ago

2010-05-10T15:50:00.001-05:00

My exams are graded and final grades turned in. Now I can turn my thoughts to other matters, and I find myself thinking about many non-academic topics, including events that occurred 50 years ago.

On 1 May 1960 the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics (that's what it was called then) shot down an American spy plane--the highly secret U2 aircraft--over Soviet airspace. The pilot, Francis Gary Powers, did not avail himself of the poison dart included in his kit and instead parachuted, where he was captured by Soviet authorities.

This cold war event was neither acknowledged nor reported at first. After a couple of days of silence, the U.S. government announced that a "weather spotting" aircraft had been lost. In one of the few real propaganda victories for the Soviet government during these years of on-again, off-again tensions, Nikita Khrushchev announced that the Soviet air force had shot down the plane--but held off announcing that the pilot was in Soviet hands. The cagey leader of the Soviet empire had set a trap, which the unwitting American President, stepped into. It was only after the U.S. told a series of lies about the plane that Khrushchev paraded the pilot before the world. It was now clear to everyone that the United States was engaged in espionage and that it was not willing to be forthcoming about the extent of its spying.

Pakistan was furious with the United States. The U2 had taken off from a military base in Pakistan, and Pakistan had no idea that the plane was flying a reconnaissance mission over Soviet airspace. A multi-party international conference was already planned for mid May, involving the Soviet Union, France, Britain, and the U.S. That conference was another casualty of the U2 incident. Powers was convicted of spying in a Soviet court and was sentenced to several years of hard labor in a Soviet gulag. Later he was exchanged for a Soviet spy in Potsdam, and he was returned to the U.S.

I, meanwhile, had just learned that I had been chosen as an American Field Service exchange student and was scheduled to leave for Berlin in June. Berlin was still an occupied city with a French, English, American, and Soviet sector. Most importantly, it was located in the heart of the German Democratic Republic--East Germany. Because the U.S. did not recognize East Germany, Americans were not allowed to travel across East Germany to Berlin; the AFS students were to be flown from West Germany over East Germany to Berlin.

My parents were in a dither about letting me go off on this trip at a time of the highest tensions of the cold war--and they had friends who actively lobbied them to not allow me to go. I don't know how it was that they acquiesced to my pleadings to be allowed to take this trip of a lifetime, but I will always be grateful that, in fact, I did make this trip--at a time of unparalleled international tension.

Derby Day

2010-05-01T23:46:00.000-05:00

It might have been raining at Churchill Downs, but it was clear and pleasant in the Hill Country for the Kentucky Derby. The party began with the "perfect" mint julep:

When the guests arrived, it was a hat parade:

Noreen prepared an authentic southern feast, and there were no complaints about the juleps, either. Who cares if my horse didn't win?

Special Plants

2010-04-26T23:04:00.010-05:00

One of the great aspects of moving to a new part of the country is the discovery of plants that I never knew existed and the chance to grow plants that would never have survived in cool New England.

First of all, bougainvillea. Yes, I have known bougainvillea, and I have seen it growing, but I never had a chance to have it in my own garden. This is a plant that seems like it belongs in the plastic flower section of Hobby Lobby--it is just too gaudy to be real. Except it is.

This is a totally un-retouched photo. The flowers are tiny white blossoms; the color comes from the bracts surrounding the simple flower. Place your cursor on the picture and click it to enlarge the image. You almost need sunglasses to look at this magnificent plant in bloom.

The new species for me is the anacacho orchid tree, a variety that is indigenous to a very small range in this part of the country. We found the anacacho orchid tree shortly after we moved here last year in a nursery south of Kerrville that specializes in native plants. We planted it right away, but this is our first opportunity to see the tree in bloom. Look at the little orchid-like blossoms:

Not only is the tree beautiful in bloom, but it also has a delightful fragrance!

You will have to imagine the delicious vanilla scent.

The Queen of Flowers?

2010-04-22T22:05:00.001-05:00

The English poet A.E. Housman (1859-1936) included a wonderful poem in his volume A Shropshire Lad called "Loveliest of Trees":
Loveliest of trees the cherry now
Is hung with snow along its boughs...
From the pictures I have seen of cherry trees in blossom along the Potomac, Housman may be right: these trees covered in blossoms do look indeed as if they were blanketed in snow.

As I watch iris blossoms opening daily in the garden, these lines of Housman come to mind. Is there any flower more magnificent than the iris?

It is no wonder that the French--who love all things beautiful--adopted the iris as a national symbol (the fleur-de-lys). It is fitting that this lovely flower has always been associated with the Virgin Mary. There is no flower that seems so ravishingly beautiful and so vulnerable at the same time. And for all of the iris' external beauty, it always seems willing to open its inner self to the world.

These two blossoms emerged from a spring shower as if to celebrate the season and life itself. And, what the Cajuns would call lagniappe--deer don't bother them!

A Day among the Wildflowers

2010-04-16T23:55:00.001-05:00

We took a day to drive through Gillespie and Mason Counties, northwest of us to seek out more wildflowers during this extraordinary year for blossoms. We were so delighted with the display, for mile after mile.

Sometimes it was a spread of bluebonnets that caught our eye, and sometimes it was the magic of a single flower.

Sometimes the joy comes from the combination of colors provided by the various varieties.

When you find a spot with plein air painters working busily, you know you have a great spot for viewing nature's splendors.

The pictures give an idea of what the scenes were like, but what they cannot communicate is the fragrance. When we got out of the car to wander around this field, the fragrance was overpowering--not sickly sweet, just delicious.

Since we were gone all day, and the weather was mild, we took Sammy along for the ride. As you can see, he enjoyed the flowers as well!

Wildseed Farms

2010-04-13T23:26:00.000-05:00

Today we took a drive to Wildseed Farms, the nation's largest working wildflower farm--200 acres! Over 350,000 people each year drop into Wildseed Farms, which is located seven miles east of Fredericksburg, Texas and about 10 miles west of the LBJ ranch.

Maybe many do not know that wildflowers were the passion of Lady Bird Johnson. She made her influence felt while first lady by pressing for highway beautification across the United States. Before Lady Bird began her crusade, our highways were often cluttered with litter. Today the crusade for unlittered highways is a joint operation of state highway departments and countless organizations and individuals who "adopt" sections of roadways to keep theme pristine.

After the Johnsons returned to Texas, Lady Bird threw herself into promoting and preserving wildflowers--one of the reasons that Texas enjoys such massive wildflower displays annually. It is not surprising that the Wildseed folks named their meadow after the former first lady.

Today we viewed a profusion of corn poppies in the meadow, which is landscaped with broad walkways so that guests can stroll through the bright blooms.

The last time I saw anything to rival this display of poppies was during a vacation in the Dordogne region of southwestern France. The Hill Country and southwestern France have a lot in common agriculturally--chalky soil, miles of lavender, and a large wine industry.

It's no wonder that we love both southwestern France and the Texas Hill Country!

Back Roads

2010-04-11T00:02:00.000-05:00

Driving to Austin, we stay on the back roads as long as possible. The interstate is faster, but it is scenes like this that make the meandering state highways so inviting.

This lovely scene is located just north of the cement plant in Hunter. Who cares if the trip is a little longer with vews like this?

Pied Beauty

2010-04-08T11:22:00.004-05:00

GLORY be to God for dappled things—
For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow;
For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;
Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches’ wings;
Landscape plotted and pieced—fold, fallow, and plough; / 5/
And áll trádes, their gear and tackle and trim.

All things counter, original, spare, strange;
Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)
With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim;
He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change: / 10/
Praise him.
Gerard Manley Hopkins (1844-1899)

Pollen!

2010-04-06T22:50:00.000-05:00

I guess unless you live in a desert, you have pollen. Have we got pollen! The offender is the live oak tree--that magnificent twisty, gnarled tree that can survive for years and years in the Texas heat and drought. Live oak trees, for all their beneficial shade, do have a couple of drawbacks: first, millions of tiny leaves that fall not in the autumn, but the spring! Just when you want to start cleaning up the yard for spring, there is a deluge of tiny leaves, quickly followed by new leaves on the trees. The good thing is, there are leaves all winter. The bad aspect is cleaning up all those leaves when you really want to be planting.

And then there is the pollen. The pollen explosion this year is the worst in 25 years--and the volumes are off the charts. The local television stations post the pollen counts. 4,000 is considered high; today the count was at 11,000; Sunday it was over 40,000! Everything is coated in yellowish-green pollen. My black car is no longer black; my gardening shoes look as if I had been mowing the yard (I have not).

Luckily, we do not have pollen allergies, as some people do--and they are miserable right now. I did find that, after a day of working in the garden, I had to take out my contact lenses, however. My eyes did react to the pollen explosion. How long does it last? Would you believe until the end of April?

A Wealth of Wildflowers

2010-04-05T23:01:00.000-05:00

The wildflowers just keep coming in our corner of the Hill Country. These images are from (of all places) the cement plant located between New Braunfels and San Marcos. The meadow was seeded last fall, and our abundant fall and winter rains worked their magic.

Thank you, Texas Industries. And thanks be to God!

Jerry Jeff Walker Birthday Bash

2010-04-02T23:22:00.000-05:00

As usual, Jerry Jeff Walker returned to Gruene Hall to celebrate his birthday. Just like last year, we had a table near the front of the hall for the great show. For all those who wonder how we get such "preferential" treatment for these sold-out shows, the secret is to log onto the JJW website the minute that the virtual ticket window opens. It's worked two years in a row.

The "man" ambled into the hall just as I was checking out the tee shirt table, and I was able to get a close-up shot:

As I wrote last year, Gruene Hall is the perfect venue for Jerry Jeff's music: it is old, funky, and loaded with posters and pictures of performances over the years--not to mention neon beer signs of all the favorite Texas brews. Here are some of the satisfied patrons:

All eyes, of course, were on center stage, where there was great music--and two stepping in the aisles.

Yes, we will be back next year--and as long as Jerry Jeff chooses to celebrate his birthday at Gruene Hall.

Wildflowers

2010-04-01T22:48:00.001-05:00

It is wildflower time in Texas--the state with more varieties of wildflowers and more miles of wildflower-strewn roads than any other state. And this year--thanks to the abundant fall and winter rains, the wildflowers are putting on a show that is spectacular.

Last week we took our visitors from Connecticut and Kansas City to Wildseed Farm, a 200 acre farm that specializes in raising wildflowers and harvesting the seeds for resale. Wildseed is located about 7 miles east of Fredericksburg, in the Texas Hill Country. The many varieties on the Wildseed plots were just beginning to come into bloom--promising many weeks of colorful displays.

We will be back--this show is too good to miss!

Meanwhile, here in New Braunfels, 70 miles south, the flowering has already begun--even in our own back yard.

Last year we bought three bluebonnet plants and placed them in the back of the yard where we have a rocky meadow. Bluebonnets are an annual--not a perennial--so the spreading of bluebonnets comes from the seeds that fall from mature plants and lay fallow until the following year. Our three bluebonnet plants have seeded themselves and we are enjoying these lovely flowers right out our windows.

More to come!

Spring

2010-03-23T23:03:00.000-05:00

It's been a long winter--even in Central Texas. We have had more rain than usual--thank goodness! And, quite honestly, more cold than usual. As March started, however, the temperatures gradually warmed, and spring seemed to be a reality. The garden centers have been stocking their aisles with so many tempting plants, and even though I have lots of seeds started, I broke down and bought a tomato plant when I spotted the heirloom "Brandywine" at a local nursery. And as an appropriate companion, basil. Mind you, there are tomato and basil seedlings growing in flats on the warm driveway pavement (and brought into the garage at night) but I thought I would take a chance with Brandywine and basil, and planted them on the last day of winter.

Spring began officially on Saturday, 20 March, and--we had frost! I checked the thermometer when I got up in the morning, and it read 31 degrees--so I rushed back to the garden to check on those two plants that relish hot weather. Here are the results:

Obviously, it was a little cooler in the garden than up close to the house, or it was below freezing for a period of time. So much for trying to rush spring during this atypical winter!

I decided I ought to record the event as a reminder that, even if the garden centers stock summer flowers and vegetables, there is no guarantee that they will survive until spring truly arrives.

On the way back to the house, camera in hand, I came across this delicate buttercup growing fearlessly surrounded by the menacing thorns of a prickly pear cactus. Surprised by nature once again! Enjoy.

A Fascinating Evening

2010-03-11T22:47:00.000-06:00

Last night our church hosted the Mwangaza Children's Choir as this group of Ugandan children stopped in New Braunfels for their "Hope for the Nations" 2010 Tour. This group of 22 talented eight to thirteen year olds charmed the appreciative audience with their singing (and dancing) and infectious enthusiasm.

With the exception of "America the Beautiful," all of their numbers were original Ugandan praise songs, some sung in English, some in native languages, and all accompanied by enthusiastic drumming. They even invited to audience to sing along with them in one number, which actually worked very well as a "new" song began to sound familiar:

Savior, he can move the mountains

My God is mighty to save,

He is mighty to save.

Forever, author of salvation

He rose and conquered the grave,

Jesus conquered the grave.

("Mighty to Save")

Mwangaza (the Swahili word for "shining light") is a missionary and fundraising branch of Africa Renewal Ministries, dedicated to raising a new generation of Christian leaders for Africa.

I have to admit, I did not know what to expect from a group from Uganda, the nation that has recently legislated (under the influence of a group of Americans) that homosexuality in Uganda is a capital offense. As I watched the energetic and spirit-filled children singing, I wondered how many of them might at some point run afoul of such an oppressive law. During a brief presentation about the work of Africa Renewal Ministries, I learned that 50% of the population of Uganda is under the age of 15! Fifty percent! Such is the effect of the AIDS epidemic in East Africa. Surely as this young generation reaches maturity, such repressive legislation will be replaced by a more humane recognition of the spirit of God in all of God's children.

After the concert we hosted three of the girls and one of their chaperones for the night. What joy these "young ladies" (as their chaperone called them) brought to our home.

I don't imagine that "Shake Your Body" will become a standard in American churches, but it certainly sounded right as the children sang--and danced:

Shake your body to the Lord

Hallelujah

Shake your body,

Shake, shake,

Hallelujah

Shake your body to the Lord

Hallelujah

Why don't you rise up and

Dance to the Lord?

Amen.

Beehive--the 60's Musical

2010-02-04T15:47:00.000-06:00

The semester is underway so I can get back to the blog. First up--Beehive, the 60s Musical--another great production from the San Pedro Playhouse. There must be at least 50 songs from the 1960s in this show! What great music! Could there ever be a musical from more recent decades? Not with music of this caliber. As usual, the production was superb, but I have to give a special tip of the hat to the lighting designer. Well done--kudos all around. And for anyone in the vicinity of San Antonio, do yourselves a favor and see it!

Spring Bulbs

2010-01-12T22:27:00.001-06:00

The challenge when we lived in New England was to order the bulbs and get them planted in the fall before the cold weather came and the ground froze. There were many times that I was out on a cold autumn day racing to get the bulbs in the ground before the first winter storm.

Things are different in Central Texas, where the ground doesn't freeze. In fact, the bulbs were ordered in the fall, but as soon as they arrived they went right into the refrigerator to get the appropriate number of weeks of cooling before being planted. Like a lot of plants, most of the bulbs that we associate with spring require cold weather to produce spring flowers.

Finally, the time came to remove the bulbs from the refrigerator and get them into the ground. Luckily, the bed had been prepared in the fall, so the recent gardening task was to get them plopped into the ground so they could settle in and start growing for a spring display (next month?)

The biggest challenge, of course, is to choose varieties that will not be tempting to our voracious deer population. Experts assure me that deer do not eat daffodils (we'll see) and the bulb supplier (in Connecticut) testified that deer would not bother hyacinthoides (scylla, or squills). Now all we have to do is wait and see if 1) the cooling period was long enough, and 2) if, in fact, deer will not find the new growth appetizing!

Winter Weather

2010-01-08T23:24:00.001-06:00

It is cold in Central Texas. From what I can tell, it is cold everywhere in the continental United States except southern California, so it appears we are in this boat together. On the one hand, we certainly can't complain about the cold here, as the winter weather is more treacherous each mile as one heads north. The difference, however, is that other parts of the country are better equipped to handle the cold than we are in Central Texas.

Houses in this region do not have basements, and often water pipes are exposed to the cold. The inevitable happens in a lot of residences--burst pipes. The local news reported that many plumbers would be working all night tonight to come to the aid of homeowners whose pipes have burst.

Many homes do not have central heating, and in fact even houses with central heating often rely on heat pumps, a mechanism that is best suited to areas where there is minimal cold. Many people rely on space heaters, which are often the cause for fires when they are not kept in good repair. In short, generally residents of Central Texas are not prepared for sustained cold spells.

Last winter we had nothing that could pass for cold weather. Our cannas, for example, never died back completely all winter long. This winter is proving much harder on those plants that cannot tolerate the cold. I have noticed damage to our lantanas and oleanders already. It will be interesting to see what actually survives the weather which has already been described officially as the coldest temperatures in the area for 20 years. For the sake of people unprepared for cold temperatures and the farmers who depend on mild winters for crops such as citrus and strawberries, I hope the weather moderates soon.

In the meantime, we continue to have spectacular sunsets right outside the back door.

Texas Dance Halls

2010-01-05T11:46:00.000-06:00

I have written before about Gruene Hall, located about 10 minutes from our home, which bills itself as "Texas' oldest dance hall." Though I have deep roots in Texas, I always thought of Gruene Hall as one of a kind. After all, I never saw dance halls while growing up in Dallas.

What I needed to do was to adjust my sights to Central Texas, the land settled by Germans and Czechs in the 19th century. Those Central Europeans did not only bring sausage and beer to Central Texas, they also brought their love of dancing. And today, though the two step has replaced the polka, a number of the dance halls still survive.

I never thought the Central Texas dance halls would make it to the exalted repertoire of National Public Radio until yesterday's story on "Morning Edition." I almost swallowed my toothbrush when I heard John Burnet 's story about the most recently-renovated establishment, Sengelmann Hall in Schulenburg, Texas. Burnet reports that at one time there were about 1000 such dance halls operating, largely in the Central Texas region settled by Czechs and Germans; today there are only half that number, and most of them are rotting away in rural areas. Sengelmannn got a million dollar makeover, thanks to a Houston philanthropist, and it appears to be as impressive as the date it first opened.

One fact is certain: after a million-dollar makeover, Sengelmann must seem like a palace. Come to New Braunfels, and we will take you to Gruene Hall: screens instead of walls on two sides, a hardwood floor that dips and weaves, the smell of spilled beer and 100 years of tobacco smoke in every fixture, a potbellied stove near the bar pumping out heat to take the chill off (for at least a radius of 25 feet) and you will know that you are in the real deal, not a makeover.

Winter Sunsets

2010-01-02T22:44:00.000-06:00

We have been having spectacular sunsets in recent days. What a special time this has been as we turned the page on an old year and entered a new decade--a rare "blue" moon and colorful sunsets! Our house faces east, so the sunsets brighten our back yard and gardens. Since our house is constructed with large and spacious windows across the back, these sunsets light up the entire house with their rich colors for a few minutes each evening.

It is a popular misconception that colorful sunsets are the serendipitous result of manmade dust and pollution. As a scientist at NOAA says, if that were the case, then cities such as London, New York City and Los Angeles would be would be celebrated for their twilight hues. In fact, tropospheric aerosols (i.e. dust) do not enhance sky colors; they subdue them. Clean air is the main ingredient in brightly-colored sunrises and sunsets.

Sunlight takes a longer path through the atmosphere at sunrise and sunset than during the middle part of the day. Because an increased amount of violet and blue light is scattered out of the beam along the way, the light which reaches an observer is reddened. Sunsets are red because the daytime sky is blue!

So why are winter sunsets so frequently more spectacular than those of summer? Air circulation is more sluggish during the summer, and the photochemical reactions which result in the formation of smog proceed more rapidly at that time of the year. Winter sunsets are more colorful in fact because the air is circulating more briskly and the clearer air yields the brightest colors.

Enjoy this evening's sunset! And for the full effect, click on the picture for a view that will fill your screen.

After Two Years, It's a Tradition

2009-12-29T20:43:00.001-06:00

This is our second year to make a pilgrimage right after Christmas to one of the barbecue destinations in Central Texas, so it must be a tradition, right?

Our merry band consisted of family and friends and extended family from Austin and distant parts, the same as last year. Then it was Snow's in Lexington, Texas, and this year it was Smitty's, in Lockhart--the self-styled BBQ center of the state.

There is a reason that barbecue venues are called "joints" in Texas. As you can see from the picture, the term "restaurant" would never do; cafe would be inappropriate (I am sure there is no coffee served here). Delicatessen? No way? Bistro? Not in a thousand years. Smitty's is a sure-enough barbecue joint.

The first scene to greet the hungry customer is the pit (as in pit barbecue). Never have I entered a BBQ joint by way of the fire pit--and this is a well-engineered fire pit. As I snapped the picture I could see the draft sucking the aromatic fumes from the flaming wood into the chambers where there were hundreds of pounds of meat slowly smoking.

The next scene was a carver with one of the sharpest knives I have ever seen in action. And indeed he did know how to use it.

Once inside, Smitty's was just about what one might expect in terms of decor --a counter to pick up beer (and cokes for the kids), and old faded posters and newspaper clippings on the wall.

The meat was good, though I definitely think it does not compare with Snow's last year. The folks in Lockhart believe their BBQ is so good that it does not need any sauce. I think they need a reality check on that one. The beef brisket we had was smokey, to be sure, but a little dry. It could have used some sauce.

Of course on exiting Smitty's, you have a feast for the eyes on this bright December day--a head-on view of the county courthouse, right on the town square--as distinctive a 19th-century courthouse as you will find in these parts. All in all, a good day's adventure.

All is Calm...

2009-12-27T16:34:00.000-06:00

Sammy asleep under the Christmas tree just about sums it up. After two days of multiple church services, lots of family activities, huge festive dinners, presents galore and lots of laughing, Sammy was exhausted. We all were. Andrew said it best: "no one does Christmas like our family!"

Solstice--a new year

2009-12-22T23:04:00.001-06:00

We still have a week officially in 2009, but it has always seemed to me that the year really "ends" on the day that darkness overwhelms the light--the shortest day of the year, the winter solstice. That short day has come and gone, and now, slowly at first, the days will become longer. Each day from now until June the sun will rise a little earlier, and then set a little later.

It is fitting to think about light and dark as we approach Christmas, when Jesus, the light of the world, came to share our earthly existence. Even on that shortest day of the year, the winter solstice, it is important to recall those words in John:
The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not overcome it.
Thanks be to God!

New Braunfels Train Museum

2009-12-21T15:33:00.004-06:00

Today was one of those great serendipitous days that just happen without any planning. Andrew and Mason came over for the day--an absolutely gorgeous day--so we went out without any plan just to enjoy being outside. We parked the car in downtown New Braunfels and started walking, looking at Christmas decorations, and enjoying seeing all the wonders through the eyes of a 2 1/2 year old. And then we happened onto the New Braunfels Train Museum, which was set to open in 20 minutes! So we looked all through the train station and then got into the track where an enormous steam locomotive and caboose are permanently settled. And they are open to anyone who wants to "climb aboard"! The chance encounter turned into an hour's fun, ending with the huge HO model train layout in the station itself. This is a day we will all remember!

Winter in New England

2009-12-19T12:32:00.003-06:00

We may be out of the path of nor'easters, but we still follow the weather in New England with great interest. It appears that there is one doozie of a storm moving up the east coast--and my commiserations go out to everyone who 1) planned to shop today, or 2) planned to travel today. No gloating here--I have had too many plans ruined (or threatened) by dangerous winter storms.

Here is a seasonal photo from my stockpile to remind me of how beautiful the world can be covered by a new blanket of snow. When there is nothing to do but enjoy it, enjoy it!

By the way, did you know that you can enlarge the picture by clicking on it? I just recently learned that myself.

Garden Update

2009-12-17T21:32:00.005-06:00

We have now had a couple of hard freezes, and the results are evident throughout the yard and garden. "Hard freeze" is a term not used much in the northern climes where we have been living. After all, when winter sets in in New England, the only question is how far down is the ground frozen? In this climate, horticultural zone 8b, whether there is a freeze, how long it lasts, and how low the thermometer goes all have a significant bearing on whether tender plants survive or die. Gardeners in these parts plant many vegetables, shrubs, and flowers that will tolerate little to no frost. It's a gamble: last year there was no killing frost; this year we have had several. We will have to wait until spring to see the effects on some of the plants that went into the ground over the past year.

I did not plant anything in the vegetable garden until the fence was erected, as there was no sense putting out a buffet for our ravenous deer population. So tomato and pepper plants went into the ground in mid October, and beet, spinach, and lettuce seeds at the same time. The hard freeze took the tomatoes and peppers (no surprise) and when I went out to transfer the dead plants to the compost pile, I was surprised to see how many peppers and tomatoes were maturing on the plants. Oh well, I knew it was a gamble.

As you can see, the seeds are doing quite well, as all of these varieties enjoy cooler weather. I am guessing that I will be able to grow these cool weather crops until about March, and then I will switch to those varieties that can handle the Texas heat.

Cranberry bog, Carver, MA

2009-12-14T09:46:00.002-06:00

Cranberry bog, Carver, MA, originally uploaded by ch in nb.

The grocery stores are full of cranberries now, and seeing those bags full of identical rubies always reminds me of the cranberry harvest in southeastern Massachusetts. Cranberries in a bog--unlike the jewels in the grocery store--are a riot of color. Every shade of red you can imagine, from rose pink to rose purple, floats to the top of the bog as the fields are flooded. Perhaps all the garnet/rose/scarlet berries that never make it into the bags of cranberries in the stores eventually end up in bottles of juice.

Saint Lucia's Day (one day early)

2009-12-12T09:34:00.003-06:00

We have celebrated St. Lucia’s Day (13 December) for as long as I can remember as a kind of reminder of the Swedish heritage on my side of the family. I have never really understood how the commemoration of this Italian saint (Santa Lucia) ever migrated to Sweden, a Protestant land that does not have the calendar of saints of the countries of the south, but nevertheless St. Lucy’s Day is an important part of the pre-Christmas festivities in Sweden and has been in our family for many years.

Since the feast day comes on a date close to the shortest day of the year, it is inevitably associated with light, and involves the oldest daughter of the family bringing a plate of warm buns to her family members while wearing a wreath with candles in her hair. These buns, called Lussakattor, are one of our favorite taste sensations of Christmas. If you look up Lussakattor, you will inevitably find them characterized as flavored with saffron. The recipe N has used for years, however, features cardamom. As we have lived in various places—Kansas City, Massachusetts, Minnesota, Connecticut—she has shared these delicious treats with many friends who first learned about this delightful celebration from us. We hope that there are families across the country who remember St. Lucia (and the delicious taste of her buns) from hearing about the feast day from us.

There have been many years that there were no “eldest daughter” to do the honors on the morning of 13 December in our household, but again this year we had our three eldest Austin grandchildren with us for the weekend. Hooray! That means I was awakened from a sound sleep by a beautiful little blond girl carrying candle and a warm Lussakattor. It doesn't get any better!

Winter Pastoral

2009-12-10T11:01:00.002-06:00

Winter Pastoral, originally uploaded by ch in nb.

One of my fondest memories of New England is Cherry Brook Farm, located in North Canton. Since New England has just received its first major winter storm of the season, I return to this picture to remind me of how beautiful the winter can be. And I can also honestly say that I was glad to sell my snow shovels and snow blower last fall before we moved!

Williamstown llama

2009-12-09T22:26:00.002-06:00

Williamstown llama, originally uploaded by Clark Hendley.

Going through my old pictures, I could not resist bringing this fellow to light once again. I made his acquaintance one late fall morning in Williamstown, Massachusetts. Truly, this is a face that only a mother could love.

Enchanted Rock

2009-12-07T23:50:00.006-06:00

Over the Thanksgiving holiday we took our visiting children and grandchildren to Enchanted Rock, just outside Fredericksburg in the Texas Hill Country. We got started late in the day, so I feared that we would be too late for any pictures, but in fact the long golden rays of the setting sun provided perfect light for the reddish, ochre granite--and I took advantage of the beautiful photographic conditions.

Enchanted Rock is one of the oldest rock formations in Texas, and it has had human visitors for the last 11,000 years. The rock is described as a pink granite exfoliation dome, and it rises to an elevation of 425 feet and covers 640 acres. Enchanted Rock is one of the largest batholiths (an underground rock formation uncovered by erosion ) in the United States.

The name seems to derive from the weird creaking and groaning the Tonkawa Indians heard at night. Geologists today explain that what the Tonkawas heard was a result of the rock's heating by day and contracting in the cool night. A conquistador captured by the Tonkawa described how he escaped by losing himself among the boulders on the rock, giving birth to the Indian legend of "a pale man swallowed by a rock and reborn as one of their own."

The first well-documented explorations of the area date from 1723, when the Spanish intensified their efforts to colonize Texas.

Definitely worth a visit!

Weather Update

2009-12-04T22:25:00.004-06:00

Contrary to what we might have thought last year when we moved to the Hill Country, this region does have an autumn. In fact, we have been experiencing autumn for the past few weeks--warm days, cool nights, and insects very busy as if they could sense the coming of winter. And even autumn color! We do not see the abundance of red that we loved so much in New England, but in fact deciduous trees have been changing colors, just like they are supposed to. All of these signs in nature are a reminder that last year with its oppressive drought was an anomaly.

Now, with two plus weeks to go of the season of autumn on the calendar, the weather has turned cold, and we are already experiencing more chill than all of last winter after moving from Connecticut. The most recent storm actually dumped snow on Houston--and that is a rarity! Much to the disappointment of school children in our area, there was no snow here, but the unusual precipitation did make garner a story on the NBC nightly news tonight.

Right now I am so glad that I did not throw out all my winter woolens when I moved south!

22 November

2009-11-22T22:00:00.003-06:00

Until my generation dies out completely, all of us I trust will come to this date--22 November--and remember where we were in 1963 when President Kennedy was slain. There are fewer of us each year, I guess, for only a few years ago newspapers would carry human interest stories on this fateful day interviewing ordinary people about their memories. Now reporters and editors are by and large too young to have been spectators of the events of that year themselves, so the date now passes almost unnoticed. Except by those who lived through that nightmare.

I was studying at the University of Vienna. My roommate and I rented a room from a Viennese "hausfrau," who regularly took in students to help with the rent. Along with the rent of the room came daily breakfast, which she brought in on a tray each morning. Before she entered the room, she sounded a warning gong--placed strategically outside the door--to announce her arrival. That morning she rushed into the room, where Phil and I were still blissfully dozing, and yelled, "Der Präsident ist tot!" (the president is dead). She did not say your president or the American president but the president. In a way, the choice of language was very important, for in the days and weeks that followed, we learned that this young, dynamic leader was indeed thought of as the president. It was my first understanding of how the rest of the world views the American president.

These were the days before instant 24/7 news. There were no satellites in the sky to broadcast words and pictures around the world. Film was loaded on a plane and sent abroad and then shown to international television audiences. So we waited for information--for hours and for days. Yes, the Austrian radio and television were providing audio coverage of the events, but I had been in Austria a short enough time that following radio news readers was a bit beyond my linguistic capabilities.

Vienna was as stunned as if an Austrian leader had been assassinated. We wandered the streets looking for news updates that we could understand. When people learned that we were Americans, they freely came up to us on the street to express their condolences. The Vienna Philharmonic gave a public concert that featured only the slow dirge-like movement from Beethoven's Third Symphony. I have never heard that movement since without recalling the somber performance in those sad days following the assassination.

Many shops in Vienna placed a photograph of President Kennedy in the window--a well-known portrait of the president, with a black crepe band stretched across the upper right-hand corner of the picture. I have searched the internet to find a copy of that picture which is still so fresh in my mind's eye, but to no avail. 22 November 1963. RIP, John Fitzgerald Kennedy.

So How German is New Braunfels, Anyway?

2009-11-20T23:06:00.003-06:00

In a word, a lot.

Yesterday's edition of the New Braunfels Herald Zeitung announced that this weekend the city was sponsoring its annual Weihnachtsmarkt (Christmas fair) with the headline "Weihnachtsmarkt ist Hier" (the Christmas market is here). The New Braunfels Weihnachtsmarkt is as close to a Christkindlmarkt (Christ Child Market) as anything one would expect to see out of Germany, Austria, or Switzerland. How do I know? We went to check it out. The pictures will give some idea of what it was like. It may not be Thanksgiving yet, and it may not be frigid outside, but the Weihnachtsmarkt ushered in the season!

A Visitor to our Backyard

2009-11-19T22:41:00.002-06:00

A couple of days ago N. called me to take a look at a "visitor" in our backyard. I grabbed my camera to document the event. Usually we see only does and fawns; a couple of times there has been a young buck, but this was the first appearance of this trophy buck. Hard to believe he would so casually graze out in the open--after all, hunting season has begun!

Doing the Texas Thang

2009-11-18T16:32:00.003-06:00

We had visitors from Connecticut (Sue and Kim from N's running group) and they got the full Central Texas tour--the Hill Country, Austin, San Antonio (including a chance to spectate at the Rock 'n Roll Marathon), the outlet mall (of course) and, the piece de resistance, Gruene Hall. There is no place to view and participate in Texas culture quite like Gruene Hall. The occasion was a concert by Tanya Tucker, and my only question is when will we cease having the tune "Delta Dawn" running through our heads? A night to remember!

Discovering a "new" poem

2009-11-11T22:20:00.003-06:00

One of the most satisfying aspects of spending a life in the study of literature is to happen onto something profoundly moving for the first time. This experience occurred again for me recently when I came across the sonnet "Since there's no help" by Michael Drayton (1563-1631). If I had ever encountered Drayton's poem, I do not remember--but what a joy to discover it now.

SINCE there's no help, come let us kiss and part;

Nay, I have done, you get no more of me,

And I am glad, yea glad with all my heart

That thus so cleanly I can free;

Shake hands forever, cancel all our vows,

And when we meet at any time again,

Be it not seen in either of our brows

That we one jot of former love retain.

Now at the last gasp of Love's latest breath,

When, his pulse failing, Passion speechless lies,

When Faith is kneeling by his bed of death,

And Innocence is closing up his eyes,

Now if thou wouldst, when all have given him over,

From death to life thou mightst him yet recover.

I hope the poem gives others as much pleasure as it gave me.

Ft. Hood Tragedy

2009-11-09T09:39:00.003-06:00

Ft. Hood is just up the road from us, so the tragedy at Ft. Hood is a local story in addition to being a national story. I was at a workshop this past weekend, and on Friday night we were asked to pray for the victims and for their families and fellow workers. Driving home that night I realized that we missed a real opportunity to pray for others affected by this senseless violence--the tortured soul who caused it (who lies in a hospital in San Antonio) and the American Muslim community, who are bound to be in some way implicated by those who jump to conclusions at times such as this. On Saturday at the concluding Eucharist, the participants joined their voices to pray for all affected by this tragedy--either immediately or in the days and weeks to come.

Universal Studios

2009-11-03T01:21:00.005-06:00

Was every famous movie made at Universal? It sure seems like it! On the tour of the back lot we saw the sets for so many movies that I can't remember them all--"Earthquake," "How the Grinch Stole Christmas,"
"Psycho," "Jaws"--the list goes on and on. And then we finished off the day at a taping of "The Tonight Show"! Who ever knew that Conan O'Brien sings to the audience after the taping ends? What a fun day!

A Very Special Baptism

2009-11-01T23:03:00.003-06:00

Today--the Feast of All Saints--we watched as our twin infant granddaughters were baptized into the communion of the faithful. It was a glorious morning in southern California, and the smiles inside St. Michael and all Angels were the equal of the sun outside on this bright fall day. And the girls (resplendent in their Laura Ashley christening gowns) behaved perfectly. This grandfather was so proud he felt like he was going to burst!

Halloween in California

2009-11-01T10:36:00.003-06:00

We are in California for the baptism of our newest family members--our twin granddaughters. But the first order of business was Halloween--for the benefit of one little angel and two little pumpkins. The guys had scouted out the best place to go for a real Halloween experience--Torluca Lake, a neighborhood not far from their Hollywood home. This is the area that had estates at one time (Fred Astaire, Bob Hope) but now the area is more modest (by California standards) and is home to the Jonas brothers, Miley Cyrus, and perhaps others. I have seen plenty of Halloween decorations in my day, but I have never seen anything to rival the displays in Torluca Lake. A Halloween to remember!

Wurstfest

2009-10-30T23:29:00.003-05:00

Tonight was the opening night of "Wurstfest," New Braunfels' largest and most extravagant celebration of its German heritage. After living here for almost a year--and after having passed the "Wursthalle" in Landa Park on our way to swim many times over the past few months--we were really psyched to see Wurstfest at first hand. We were not disappointed. This annual celebration has now become the third-largest festival in Texas--after the State Fair in Dallas and Fiesta in San Antonio. Pretty good for little New Braunfels!

There are two cultural foci of Wurstfest--food and music. There were three German bands playing simultaneously in three different venues on the grounds and there were almost as many kinds of beer and sausage as you would find in Munich. The actual Wursthalle itself looks a lot like the Hofbrau Haus--no coincidence, I am sure.

We will definitely return for more of the "culture" during the ten-day run of Wurstfest.

Is the Drought Over?

2009-10-28T23:12:00.004-05:00

The month of October is almost past, and a recent weather report (out of San Antonio) makes me wonder if our drought is over. So far in the month 11.9" of rain have fallen in San Antonio, so the total must be similar for us, 40 miles to the north. Does this mean our drought is over? We are now officially 1 inch short for the year. Last year at this time the region was 19 inches shy of the average rainfall! When we moved to this area, just a year ago November, everything was brown. Today everything is green, the rivers are flowing, and Canyon Lake is rapidly filling. Please let the life-giving rains continue!

It is officially fall--not by the calendar, but by the weather. We have had nights in the 50s (and even a couple of 40s) and daytime temperatures are usually in the 70s. Absolutely beautiful!

The critter pictured above effectively finished off my last cleome plant. I let him munch, since he was so accommodating as to pose for my pictures.

Texas Clay Festival

2009-10-27T23:00:00.003-05:00

This past weekend was the famous "Texas Clay Festival," a ceramics fair and sale originated several years ago by local potters. Well known ceramic artists from throughout Texas are invited to attend and display their wares. I've always wanted to attend the Texas Clay Festival, and now I am located only five minutes away from the big event. My brother is invited to participate each year, and, owing to a recent accident, he needed help setting up the display and also manning the booth. N. and I along with friends Randy and Barbara from East Texas were a part of the event from set up to tear down. Now I know a lot more about the pottery business than ever before. (Hint: it is a lot of work!)

The weather was beautiful--bright blue skies, cool, crisp temperatures, and the crowds were impressive on both days. The pictures will give some idea of the fun atmosphere. I am already looking forward to next year!

Veggies all year round

2009-09-27T16:24:00.006-05:00

It seems with the start of the semester (and a batch of essays to grade) plus a new, enclosed vegetable garden, that it has been hard to blog. The picture will show where I have been spending my "outdoors" time.

With vigilance, we can (usually) keep the deer away from the area around the house. Of course it helps right now that there is a bountiful supply of acorns. With acorns, they don't need to bother my hibiscus or impatiens.

The "back 40" is another story. Our long, deep lot has plenty of trails with tell tale cloven hoof marks. The deer march back and forth across the back of the yard with impunity. The only way to have a vegetable garden is to enclose it--and that is just what we have done. The fence is over eight feet high, as locals tell me that deer can make it over a six foot fence. I am told that eight feet is high enough. Time will tell.

In the meantime, fall, winter, and spring are ideal times to grow a lot of vegetables. Summers like the one we just experienced are too hot for many crops and certainly too hot for this gardener. The other three seasons, on the other hand, are promising.

The raised beds are an admission that the shallow soil here is not conducive to a lot of vegetable varieties, so we have been making compost ever since we arrived in Central Texas--enough now, when mixed with topsoil, to fill these two eight foot beds. There are tomatoes and peppers growing, and beet, carrot, and basil seeds sprouting. When the weather gets cooler we will switch to lettuce and spinach.

We will continue to construct some raised beds and add fruit trees in the spring. Now, if there were only a closer source for water....

Is Civility Dead?

2009-09-14T15:14:00.003-05:00

To quote a famous phrase from American history: have you no shame? Indeed. Are shame and embarrassment a thing of the past? Is civility dead?

First we have the embarrassment of a Congressman calling the President of the United States a liar on the floor of the House of Representatives! And immediately people start sending him money for his re-election campaign. What was he thinking? What is the American public thinking?

Then we have the spectacle of Serena Williams' meltdown at the US Open. Tennis is one of the last really civil sports left--in spite of Illie Nastase and John McEnroe back in their bad-boy days. Even McEnroe--a notorious hothead--never said what Williams said to the line judge. And never threatened anyone physically. What was she thinking?

And then there is the example of the small-time entertainer Kanye West, giving an award at the VMA awards ceremony to a very young Taylor Swift. As she is starting to make an acceptance speech, West grabs the microphone back and tells her that she really was not the best, and someone else should have been the winner. West might not have been embarrassed by his own rudeness, but judging by the audience's reaction, a lot of others were. The only good thing about the last example is that few people watch the VMA awards. Of course today almost everyone looks at youtube.

Once a nation starts down this path of incivility, I don't know how the course can be reversed.

Texas Football

2009-09-06T21:45:00.003-05:00

Let's see, it has been--how many years since I last saw a University of Texas football game? A lot of years! So I jumped at the chance to attend the home opener on Saturday. Things have changed, and that is an understatement. Texas football was always over the top (can you picture a stadium with everyone wearing burnt orange?) but now it is way over the top. When I last attended a Texas football game, the coach was Darrell Royal. Now Memorial Stadium is named after Darrel Royal. The stadium was big before (and always filled). Now it is gargantuan, and I believe I heard that the attendance at the game on Saturday was the largest crowd ever to attend a football game in the Southwest (101,000). The pageantry starts before the game and just keeps on coming. And Colt McCoy, the Heisman candidate, already looks to be in mid-season form. What an experience--to return to the campus where I did research in the rare books library and see a spectacle like this. Oh yes--a victory: 59-20.

The Times, They Are A'Changing

2009-09-04T16:17:00.001-05:00

Gasoline at $2.39 per gallon today.

And--high temperature today? 86 degrees Fahrenheit!

All the indicators are leading in the right direction!

A new Academic Year

2009-09-01T19:05:00.002-05:00

It's a new academic year--which prompts me to wonder how long have I been doing this? Do we go back to the first teaching job after my MA or do we start with the first teaching job after the Ph.D.? Or should we start earlier? First grade?

Regardless, I've been experiencing this feeling for a long time--some excitement, some nervousness, and some dread. Some disappointment that summer is over (regardless what the thermometer says) and some excitement about the coming of fall. Some anticipation and some sense that there is a lot of work ahead.

Two courses this semester--half time! Some retirement!

News Flash! Julia is Number 1!

2009-08-28T15:43:00.004-05:00

Almost 50 years after its publication, Mastering the Art of French Cooking, the weighty compendium of French recipes with its recommendation of butter, butter, more butter! will be Number 1 on the New York Times bestseller list. Have Americans just discovered Julia Child? No, in fact, Americans of my generation have had a love affair with Julia ever since her first cooking show (in black and white) on public television. A new generation, however, have discovered Julia, thanks to the new film "Julie and Julia." It seems that people leaving the theater make a detour to the bookstore to get a copy of the book for themselves so they can have their own experiment with Julia's recipes.

The question is--do they know what they are getting into? This is the age of 20 minute meals and wacko diets--with everyone weighing in on the harmful effects of butter. Julia Childs never met a pound of butter that she could not find some use for. Take for example this direction in the recipe for Navets à la Champenoise: "sauté the bacon in the butter for several minutes...." Bacon sautéed in butter--now that is a dish from another age.

Regardless, it is very satisfying to see Julia Childs get the recognition she deserves. And it is further testimony to the abilities of Meryl Streep--she can not only fit into any role that she performs, but she can sell cookbooks as well!

Hello! And who are you?

2009-08-26T15:57:00.005-05:00

This is a real-time post. It is Wednesday, 26 August 2009. Currently it is 102 degrees Fahrenheit at 4:00 pm. This is the kind of heat that makes it rather difficult to breathe as the sizzling air comes into you lungs.

For some time now we have been able to water our lawns only once each week, and that for only a short amount of time. One watering a week is not enough to keep the grass green, so the brown spots on the lawn increase daily.

I just returned from taking Sammie the dog outside (at his request--I had no interest in going outdoors in this heat. ) And what do I see bravely standing erect in the grass? This tiny white flower. I placed the Marks-a-lot in the picture so you would have some idea of the size of the plant and its blossom. What is it? Where did it come from? Why are there not more of them? How could it have the courage to bloom now on this miserable day? But since it did, the day is no longer so miserable!

Last night while watching television I was going through the catalogs of spring bulbs, wondering what I could order that would bloom in this zone (zone 8) and not be consumed by deer. This little flower looks like so many of the spring bulbs I was looking at! One thing I know for sure: it is not a spring bulb, blooming out of season. Not in this heat!

Inglourious Basterds

2009-08-22T22:45:00.004-05:00

Ever since World War II began to slip from current events to history, there have been films about every aspect of that war--the European front, the Pacific front, the convoluted politics about the Allies (and the Axis), the morality of this war, and, of course, the death camps. Some of the films were immediate classics--"Judgment at Nürenberg," "Schindler's List," for example. Some were immediately controversial--"La Vida è Bella" (a humorous treatment of concentration camps?) And now comes Quentin Tarantino's "Inglourious Basterds," and the critics don't know what to do with it.

"Inglourious Basterds" is vintage Tarantino--campy, comic, and full of violence. This is not Spielberg! The film defies easy pigeonholing. Is Tarantino saying the Americans were no better than the Nazis? Is he saying that Jews were not always victims but as sadistic as their National Socialist tormenters? Is he serious? Or is this all a big spoof?

It may be that the critics do not want to admit the truth before their faces. We live in a post-Vietnam age. This is a post My Lai film. We have experienced Abu Graib. Blackwater is still in business; it still has contracts with the CIA. Extraordinary rendition? Waterboarding? These are a reality. So now we should be shocked at a film showing Brad Pitt demanding the scalps of Nazi soldiers?

"Inglourious Basterds" breaks the 2 hour rule, and some critics complain it is too long. It has a leisurely pace in scenes that are then followed by shocking violence. I don't know that I remember a film that built suspense so artfully. Did this film drag? Never for a moment. The opening scene (in a French farmhouse) was one of the best scenes of its type I have ever seen.

Will everyone like this film? Not by a long shot? Will Hollywood like it? Will it make tons of money for Universal? I can't predict, so I will wait and see. I know one thing: it is a film I will not forget.

Butterflies Again

2009-08-17T21:24:00.003-05:00

I am still thinking about butterflies--probably because we associate butterflies with new life, and we have these wonderful new babies in our lives.

I have heard a lot of homilies in my life, and I must confess that I do not remember most of them. One I do vividly remember I heard when I was in graduate school, and I even remember the title of the homily: "Something Happens to a Butterfly When it Struggles." The sermon included the story of a child who watched with great impatience a butterfly emerging from a cocoon. As he watched the frail-looking insect with its wet wings struggle to emerge into its new life, he decided to give the butterfly some help, and he peeled back part of the cocoon to allow the butterfly to escape. The butterfly did emerge from its cocoon, but it was limp and listless, and it died soon after. The child was crushed that the beautiful insect did not live.

But, you see, something happens to a butterfly when it struggles. The struggle to break free from the cocoon allows the butterfly to gain strength and endurance as it uses new muscles. It is a battle the insect must do on its own. Helping the butterfly emerge prematurely in fact guarantees that the butterfly will not survive.

So the question we face as parents watching our children emerge from their cocoons is when do we need to allow them to struggle on their own, knowing that in that struggle strength will be gained that will equip them for struggles all through life.

Yes, even the frail-looking ethereal butterflies have much to teach us about life.

New Life

2009-08-16T22:40:00.002-05:00

All I can think about at present is the addition of two new members of our family. Our son in California and his partner just adopted twin infant girls, who are now the ripe old age of 4 days. Everything happened very fast--from the call asking them if they wanted these precious babies to their trip to Tracy, California during the night, to their return to Los Angeles. Thanks to Facebook, cell phones, and text messaging we were able to keep abreast of events as they unfolded. We had already scheduled a dinner party for 9 people from our church for Saturday evening. We were so preoccupied with unfolding events on the west coast that it is amazing the dinner went off without a hitch. No--not amazing. The amazing part is my super-organized wife--always on top of things! These are our 17th and 18th grandchildren!

The Rest of the Story

2009-08-14T22:25:00.005-05:00

That's the way the late Paul Harvey used to announce the news: he would tell "the rest of the story." Well, here is the rest of the story of the caterpillars who obliterated my rue plant earlier in the summer.

I looked out of our bedroom to the berm and spotted several very active butterflies--enjoying the big, blue spikey plant (whose name I do not know). I grabbed the camera and snapped away--confident that the helpful Audubon guide would in fact "guide" me to an identification (The Audubon Society Field Guide to North American Butterflies). Sure enough, these were giant swallowtails--the "rest of the story" of the caterpillars. The Audubon guide offers explicit (though at times unscientific) identification hints. This caterpillar is described as "brown or olive, resembling large bird dropping, with dirty buff patches and saddles and usually red scent horns." Oh yes, and it feeds on rue. What is most amazing is the camouflage that nature has given the caterpillar so that it looks as unappetizing to potential predators (bird dropping?) as possible.

I guess I don't mind sacrificing my rue to have these magnificent butterflies in my garden. Note for next year's garden: buy some rue pants.

They Said it Couldn't be Done

2009-08-09T17:13:00.005-05:00

When these "master gardeners" moved from Connecticut to Central Texas, some of our friends lamented that gardening would be impossible in the new, harsh environment. Well, here is our berm--installed in January after we had been here a little over a month. It is now August, and I think it is going to last.

The berm was designed to give us a little privacy. Our neighbors are great, but the houses are somewhat closer together than we were accustomed to in Canton. As you can see, it has filled in well, and there are still lots of spots to tuck in other plants in the months to come that tolerate drought conditions and that are not delectable to deer.

Weeds

2009-08-08T20:57:00.003-05:00

No, not the landscape type--the television show. We never had "Showtime" (and never had the time to watch the channels we did have) so we never watched "Weeds" until this summer. Thanks to Netflix, we are now halfway through the second season with, what, three more to go? Oh, my! I am very glad we do not have little children around when this show is on. What dialogue! The writing for this series is simply superb--but I would hate to have to try to explain some of what the characters are talking about to a younger viewer. I loved Mary Louise Parker in "Fried Green Tomatoes," so I was curious to see what she would do with this rôle. I think she is terrific--and the rest of the cast very good as well. This is the first time I have ever watched a television series without waiting a week in between. Especially fun on these warm summer nights when we have no desire to sit outside.

After Tubing, What?

2009-08-04T17:08:00.004-05:00

Two great activities--music and petanque!

All of our houseguests for the weekend were musicians, and the house was full of music all weekend long--when we were not playing petanque. When this group gets together, there is music! Guitars, fiddles, mandolins, drums, whistles, cellos, and lots of singing. Best of all, our guests gifted us with copies of their CDs when they left, so we are still enjoying the music from the weekend.

And they have even promised to return!

Tubing Down the River

2009-08-03T18:42:00.007-05:00

My brother and sister-in-law and six of their friends visited over the weekend and we all went tubing (aka toobing)! The favorite activity on the Comal River (shortest river in the US if not in the world) is floating down the river in an oversized innertube. The water gushes forth from a spring in Landa Park at 72 degrees the year round and meanders througha limestone canyon for 3 miles until it empties into the Guadalupe River. The constant flow of water plus the freshness of spring water plus the cleanliness of a limestone riverbed all ensure that the experience is refreshing and delightful. And people come from far and wide to tube the river. One of the major tourist industries of our town is tube rental. Luckily, we have enough tubes to accommodate a crowd.

To avoid crowds, we got to the river early, inflated the tubes, and were floating by 9:00 am. The drought has slowed the spring's flow somewhat, so the 3 mile float lasted a leisurely 3 hours. We returned to the put in spot for a picnic after the float, and saw that the river was really getting crowded. These pictures show how busy the traffic can be--tubes from one shore to the other!

Well, It Happened

2009-07-29T22:18:00.004-05:00

This morning there was a coral snake in the garden--just what I had been dreading. Regular readers will remember that I dug up all the moisture-loving banana trees when I learned that coral snakes are attracted to the dampness. I had earnest hopes that eliminating the banana trees would send the coral snakes slithering off to more favorable venues. Unfortunately, my luck ran out today.

If you look closely at the picture, you will notice that there is something missing from this snake--the head. Yes, I decapitated it with a garden shovel. I was shaking so hard I don't know how I was able to score a direct hit.

You might wonder why this extreme visceral reaction. First of all, I have never been a fan of snakes, but the reality is that the coral snake is the most venomous North American reptile. I first read about the coral snake in my trusty Boy Scout Handbook (1957 edition). There were no color pictures, but I learned then the ditty I recited (aloud) this morning when I came across the snake: "Red and yellow kill a fellow; red and black a friend of Jack." The red ring next to the yellow ring is the pattern you do not want to spot in the wild. To my knowledge, I had never set eyes on a living coral snake before (even in a zoo) but I knew immediately what had slithered into my garden for a drink of water.

As I remember from the Scout handbook, the venom from the coral snake is the only native venom that attacks the autonomic nervous system. The good news ascertained from a Google search is that no deaths from coral snakes have been reported for many years. The reality, however, is that they are very dangerous.

Sure hope this is my one and only encounter!

Flood?

2009-07-27T22:56:00.003-05:00

Tonight my neighbor told me that his wife (who works for the town of New Braunfels) is working with a group at City Hall to prepare for a flood! You have to know that we are in the grip of a terrible drought, and the thought of a flood is almost laughable. History shows, however, that there is a pattern of floods after droughts in this area. The reason has something to do with El Niño. Since I have never understood how El Niño works, I will have to take it on faith that this is true. I guess I should be pleased that city officials are planning ahead, but at a time that we are desperate for rain, it does seem something of a stretch to think of a flood! Having seen the destruction caused by the last great flood in this area (the Canyon Lake gorge that I wrote about several months ago), I know indeed that floods do happen--even in Central Texas--and that they can be very destructive.

I am still working on my bookcases, so I will hold off ark building at the present time.

Books

2009-07-24T23:01:00.002-05:00

Books are both a blessing and a burden. There are few pleasures like holding a new book in one's hands--a pleasure I have experienced countless times in my life of buying and reading books and building my library. I think I can safely say that though I migrated from records to tapes to CDs, I will never make the move from books to electronic readers. Curl up with a Kindle? I don't think so!

On the other hand, books are heavy and bulky. Nothing will impress this fact on one's mind like a cross-country move. So last fall over many weeks I packed box after box of books--a lifetime of collecting--to transport them to our new home in Texas. The only thing that makes packing and carrying thousands of pounds of books possible is that you do it one carton at a time.

The estimate for having custom-made bookcases built and installed in the study in our new house was unrealistic, so we left the books in boxes. Now the time has come to unpack--and the joy/pain begins. After a trip to Ikea we found good, sturdy (and affordable) bookcases. I have now spent one week lugging the materials upstairs, assembling the bookcases, and opening box after box of precious books.

Opening up the cartons is a little like Christmas morning over and over. Each box held at least one special book that I had not seen in months--almost like greeting old friends. But there is no way they will all fit. After all, the books previously lined the walls of both an office at the college and the walls of our loft. Now they must be accommodated in a single room. The hard work is almost over and now the really hard work begins! Which books to keep in view on the shelves, which to box up for a decision later, and which to begin to dispose of right away?

It's time to put the decisions aside for awhile and curl up with a good book.

A Theatrical Weekend

2009-07-20T23:28:00.003-05:00

We had a theatrical weekend! First, on Friday we attended the opening of "The Sound of Music" at the San Pedro Playhouse in San Antonio (musical director, ahem, our son). It was wonderful! I had not expected such lavish sets and costumes, and the voices were in tune, on key, and loud enough to hear on the back row. The cake and champagne after the performance were a fitting end to a marvelous production.

Then on Saturday we went back to San Antonio for a performance of "Take Me Out" in the intimate black box theatre at the playhouse. We had seen this effective drama on Broadway when it first came out, and I was curious to see how a regional community theatre would handle a play with some challenging theatrics. Most of the play takes place in a baseball locker room and shower. The showers actually worked! Real water! The cast was clearly up to the task of a play which is at times raucous and at times somber as it deals with the tricky subject of homophobia in athletics.

What a great weekend's entertainment!

It's Really Hot

2009-07-17T11:25:00.002-05:00

We are in the midst of a killer heat wave. Unfortunately, weather gurus are comparing this heat wave to the heat of the 1950s--a pattern that lasted about 7 years, as I remember. The difference between now and 50 years ago? Well, there are a lot of differences. Air conditioning then was a novelty, not a fact of life. The one place that you could count on as being air conditioned was a movie theatre. Of course, when the movie ended, you had to drive home, where it was still hot. And in the 1950s I was just a kid and had that resiliency of childhood. Nevertheless, I remember those summers as miserable, and the heat here now has gone beyond unfomfortable to miserable. The weather forecasters say that there is a giant high pressure cell directly over the central part of the country, and there is nothing in sight that will nudge it away to let cool air come in.

And did I mention that it is dry? There are various classifications of drought--from "dry" to the most severe--"exceptional drought." We are now in the last, worst category: this drought is exceptional. We are spdnding a lot of our time keeping our new plantings alive and then retreating to the house where it is, mercifully, cool.

Found a Bagel!

2009-07-15T10:27:00.004-05:00

Yes, it's true. We just found bagels (at Costco, of all places). I did not know that bagels were not national until we moved here. After all, we could get Tex-Mex food in New England so it is natural to assume that bagels would be available in Central Texas. Presumably Texans have not developed a taste for bagels--at least not the ones in our neck of the Hill Country--as this is the first bagel I have seen since we left Connecticut. Maybe if someone suggested a jalapeño bagel the idea would take off?

July Trips

2009-07-13T22:52:00.004-05:00

Whew--it is good to be back home (even if home is an oven right now). We have had two great family trips over the past couple of weeks.

First it was a family reunion of family on my mother's side--37 people from all across the US celebrating the hardy Swedish pioneers who left for a better life in the new world in the 19th century. I had heard stories of our pioneer ancestors from my mother all my life, but I learned even more of these brave souls who left everything in Sweden to take their chances in a new land. I had never known that my great grandmother and grandfather made the voyage with 4 sons and that a new child was born only six weeks after they arrived. I knew that they did not speak English, but I never knew that they were headed to Iowa and somehow ended up in western Kansas. Their story was very moving, and re-connecting with family was really fun.

Over the past weekend we were at the Grand Lake of the Cherokees with our son and his family at the lake house of his inlaws. I think we spent more time in or on the lake than on dry land! I learned how to drive a jet ski! And I learned that they do tip over!

Good Summer Read

2009-07-08T21:33:00.002-05:00

I just finished reading John Grisham's The Testament--not a new book, but new to me. What a fun book for summer. The plot reminded me at times of C.S. Forster's The African Queen, which I read in high school. And then there was the Bogart-Hepburn film version to remember as well. At other times the book recalls Conrad's Heart of Darkness, and, of course, the film version, "Apocalypse Now." This river voyage was neither in Africa nor Viet Nam but the swampy area between Brazil and Bolivia, the streams and tributaries that flow into the Paraguay River.

Lawyers are featured prominently--as always in a Grisham novel--but also missionaries. The story is in many ways more about redemption and salvation than it is about the legal business. Thanks to a leisurely afternoon at the pool today, I was able to finish before starting on a road trip tomorrow.

A Great Week

2009-06-28T23:32:00.004-05:00

We have just finished a great family week. A visit of one daughter and two grandsons gave us an opportunity to do a lot of family activities; we spent time with SEVEN of our 16 grandchildren!

It has been very hot in Texas, and that meant that many of our activities were on or in the water. We went tubing on the Guadalupe River and then another day on the Comal River (the shortest river--at 3.2 miles) in the United States. We spent a day at the great pools at Landa Park and an entire day at the famous Schlitterbahn water park.

In addition, we went to the Alamo and attended the revue put on by the teen agers who had been at musical camp at the San Pedro Playhouse. There was a also a visit to Austin to see more family and then to witness the nightly egress of bats from under the Congress Avenue viaduct. The bats emerge at dusk every evening--all 1.5 million of them--the largest urban bat colony in the United States.

What a fun week!

If it's Not One Thing, it's Another

2009-06-22T21:39:00.004-05:00

The other morning I awakened and looked out my bedroom window to look eye-to-eye with this deer, hungrily eyeing the plants on my berm. I really wish I'd had a pellet gun instead of a camera!

Then today I turned the hose on low to soak the herb garden near the house. All of a sudden, the healthy parsley plant was almost gone! We have been having intense heat, but this garden had been getting periodic waterings, so I didn't see how the parsley could have dried up so quickly. And then I spotted the little critter in the second picture! I like monarch butterflies, but I thought they only feasted on milkweed. And, as I looked closer, I saw (no surprise) this little critter had several siblings happily munching away. I guess I'll be buying my parsley at the market for the rest of the summer. If it's not one thing, it's another!

A Book to Recommend: Woodsburner

2009-06-19T09:18:00.002-05:00

John Pipkin, Woodsburner

John Pipkin’s first novel, Woodsburner, is not only a good story that is beautifully written, but it is also a fictional account of an actual historical event that in fact may provide new insights into an important American writer. A year before Henry David Thoreau went off to live in the woods at Walden Pond, he accidentally started a fire that destroyed three hundred acres of forest near Concord, Massachusetts. The novel is wholly centered on that fateful day—30 April 1844—and Pipkin weaves the facts known about the fire and its destruction with the lives of fictional characters who were involved in one way or another in that conflagration. In uniting these facts with the supposed impact of the fire on a select group of the citizens of Concord, Pipkin not only adds to the myth of the father of American environmentalism, but also tells the story of a young nation in a unique and memorable way.

Thoreau himself is perhaps of necessity the main character of Woodsburner, but he shares the stage with fascinating characters whose stories are in and of themselves compelling and give a panoramic picture of the life in one town in antebellum America. There is a bookseller who most of all wants to be a playwright, who spends his entire life on a melodramatic piece that he can never bring to fruition, who supplements his income by adding a line of pornographic pictures to his wares. There is a fire-and-brimstone Unitarian preacher whose secret vice is opium—as well as the fear that faith is a sham and that nothing awaits after death. There are two Bohemian lesbians who have escaped incarceration for their love in the old world to begin life anew together in the new world. And, most endearingly of all, there is Oddmund Hus, a Norwegian immigrant whose father accidentally burned up the ship that had brought him and his family to the new world as it sat in Boston Harbor waiting to dock, forcing young Odd to face the new world alone.

Throughout it all is Thoreau, who starts the fire, watches in fascination as it burns, tries to put it out himself, sends for help to Concord, and fears retribution for his deed. Alternately, throughout the day, as he studies the fire, muses on the fire in his own philosophical way, and attempts to extinguish it, Thoreau frets about his future and wonders if life has nothing more in store for him than work in his father’s pencil factory. It was several years later that Thoreau wrote some of the most famous words in American literature: "I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived." To read Woodsburner is to invite speculation on the accuracy of Thoreau’s words explaining his two years at Walden Pond. Was there something else—the memory of the conflagration—that necessitated ongoing expiation by this exile?

Woodsburner is thus not only a fresh, new insight into one of America’s important writers but also a fine novel that you will not want to end and an introduction to characters who will stay with you long after the novel is put aside.

Lavender!

2009-06-16T21:58:00.004-05:00

This past weekend was the Texas Lavender Festival in Blanco, a Hill Country town about half an hour northwest of us. There are six lavender farms in the environs of Blanco, and we managed to tour four of them. And did we ever see lavender! Row after row of lavender plants in field after field. And these are not puny little plants but lavender bushes often 18 inches to three feet wide. What a spectacle!

I have always had lavender in my gardens, various varieties with different characteristics, but lavender has been hit or miss with me. We had several good lavender plants in Connecticut that all disappeared one winter. I always figured that the soil which produced excellent rhododendrons was a little too acidic to sustain lavender, so I tried adding lime to sweeten the soil--with little success. When we visited Cape Cod in warm weather, we always stopped by the Cape Cod Lavender Farm both to admire the crop and to buy various lavender products. I never could figure how the growers there were able to produce a lavender crop when I had such mixed success.

Seeing lavender grown in Central Texas with its poor limestone soil was a revelation. Now it all made sense why the lavender capital of the world is Provence in France with--of course--chalky soil, just like the soil in our area. The lavender in Blanco was often growing in and amongst limestone boulders, just as in our back yard.

We bought a number of plants and plopped them down in the back part of the yard right among the rocks. Though we are having intense heat (unusual for this early in the season) the plants seem to be flourishing already. I think we may have found our crop! Best of all, the lavender growers in the area do not bother fencing the lavender to deter the deer. We may have finally found something (besides rosemary) that deer will not touch.