Shampoo Ginger!

   So, thanks to Darling Daughter, I am now "forced" to try something new.  It is no big secret that living like I do, I muddle around with tisanes, poultices, balms and other herbal concoctions.  She knows this and also knows that I grow or forage my herbs.  In fact, she is all for it as she is quite the same.  That said, she and my son-in-law always find some plant that is not in the Small Gardens and they give me that as a gift.  Last Christmas, they gave me a ginger root.  This was unlike the culinary ginger that fills the back garden, it was Shampoo Ginger.  Alrighty, then!  I carefully planted this root in a huge pot to keep it separate from the other garden bound plants.  Well, it took off growing and never stopped!  

  I was meandering the herb gardens while thinking about what to plant for my fall/winter vegetable plot.  Imagine my surprise when I was greeted with nine blooms on the Shampoo Ginger plant!  (Those buds sure look a lot like the pine cones that the squirrels are dropping from the treetops.)  I gave the largest "cone" a gentle squeeze and, sure enough, it was filled with liquid.  It is that liquid that I am supposed to harvest and turn into shampoo!  Tomorrow will find me on my knees with a jar in hand trying to capture all of that lovely stuff before something knocks over the plant and spills everything.  

  This is my first experience growing, harvesting and using this type ginger.  From what I have read, each cone will refill a few times after they are emptied.  According to all information, only the red ones should be harvested as the others are still growing.  That makes sense.  There are a couple of brown cones that will need to be removed so that will be done, as well.  Wish me luck in this new endeavor!  I am making shampoo!

There is a painting in that sunrise!

   That time just before the sun shows its face above the pines on the opposite side of the Bayou is my favorite time of day.  Usually by then, I have been up for a while and have most of my indoor chores completed.  I can head to the pier to collect the thoughts before starting in on the garden.  Between the pier and garden, I am not sure which would be called my "favorite place" but that pier sure has a strong hold. I go to watch the sunrise and see Mark off as he heads fishing.  He and I fully agree that "There is nothing like fresh fish for lunch."

  Sometimes, that sunrise can stir the brain a bit and cause the imagination to set in motion.  This probably comes from time spent with my grandparents as they both encouraged my creative endeavors even at a young age.  Granddad, especially, would push me with "Can you see a painting in that sunrise?"  I could and I would try.  My painting abilities never reached the quality that I wished but it matters not.  I still "see" that painting.  

  A couple of days ago, Mark and I were remarking about how the fog had settled in on the marsh just enough to make the sun stay dark until it was well over the tops of the pines.  I took photograph after photograph of this mysterious beauty, all the while, hearing Granddad's voice reminding me to look for the painting.  I can see it.  I wish I could paint it.  Perhaps, Darling Daughter will fulfill that wish for me. Granddad is the inspiration, I will provide the photograph and she can work her magic on the canvas!  

Thinning the "Rainforest"

  After the final threat of a freeze, I dragged all of the potted plants from the greenhouse.  Some made it to their summer place of residence which is the outdoor arbor/shelf but others only made it as far as the pathway to the backdoor of the greenhouse.  Normally, this pathway is about ten feet wide but with the plants lining the edges it is barely passable now.  In fact, Son informed me today that this "rainforest" is going to have to be thinned simply because it is a fine place for a cottonmouth to hide.  I see his point and promise to work on hauling the plants to their rightful spots, although, they seem to be perfectly happy where they are and maybe I can just use the front door of the greenhouse!

  All this hauling of plants has made me start thinking that perhaps I should do a bit of culling.  I hate it.  It saddens me to think that I should discard any living thing.  That said, I have been trying to convince my daughter that she needs more plants.  Her place is already is filled with gorgeous plants of all types but I figure she needs more.  Hopefully, my plan will work and the back pathway will become a bit safer.  I am getting too old for this!

  

Floriography and Butterfly Pea Tea

   As a birthday gift, my daughter and son-in-law gave me some herbal teas and a lovely book on flowers.  They know me well.  I love to learn about plants and also love trying new teas.  So far, I have tried one.  It seems that I cannot get enough of this stuff!  She and I had discussed butterfly pea tea in the past but have never had any to try.  So...now I do!  The good thing about this tea is that it blends well with so many other things.  The pretty thing about this tea is the color....it is blue!  (Well, sort of teal blue.)  The interesting thing about butterfly pea tea is it changes color with the addition of lemon juice!  (Yes, they bought me two fresh lemons to go with my teas!)  While most articles on the tea say it changes from blue to pink with the addition of the lemon juice, mine changed from teal to violet...which I liked better since those are two favorite colors.  The deep jewel-tone colors are striking! 

  The book is on "floriography" which is considered to be the language of flowers. It delves into the symbolism of different blooms and even their colors.  The book tells how to communicate certain emotions through gifting flowers.  You can tell others how you adore them or even how you are not fond of them simply through the type and color of blooms you send.  Interesting!  I will have to keep track of any flowers I receive so I will be fully aware of the intentions behind the bouquet!

  For the past few days since my birthday, I have spent the evenings with the book and tea.  There is something comforting about this routine and I feel quite Victorian sitting on my antique settee, sipping a cup of violet-colored tea while reading my book on "Floriography".  I still say I was born in the wrong era and it appears that my daughter and son-in-law understand this.  Not everyone does.

The "Clothes Tree"

   For the past few months, I have been doing a sort of purge of the Little Bayou House.  No, I am not tossing everything to the wayside.  The place will still be filled to the brim with the oddities that interest, amuse or bewilder me.  Those things that spark an idea or those things that bring comfort will stay.  Great Grandmother's painting of a black sheep among white will hang next to the antique lithograph.  Mom's embroidered picture of deer will proudly be displayed next to my daughter's drawing of Edgar Allan Poe.  A possum skull will defiantly sit next to the framed catfish backbone and sea turtle shell (all found items).  Also, porcelain teacups, wooden horses, antique jewelry and even a steampunk plague doctor's mask will randomly remain interspersed.  Yep, the Little Bayou House is a "House of Curiosities" and I like it that way.  It matters not what others think since, if it bothers them, they do not have to come.  I do it for me...me alone.  I admit to being a bit eccentric and love the eclectic mess that defines my house. Still, that purge IS happening.  It is more an effort to return my kids' stuff to them.  They are all neatly settled in their impeccable homes so it is time.  It is time for their stuff to be their problem instead of "Mom, don't get rid of this!  I want it but do not want to clutter up our home."  Sorry...take it home or it is going out to the trash bin, being donated or being altered to become a clue hunt prop.  Take your choice.

  That said, one old steamer trunk held a surprise.  All of my daughter's old dance recital costumes were neatly folded inside.  They were amazingly well preserved after these nigh on 30 yrs of being stowed away.  Well, they can go home now!  I carefully hand-washed each piece and hung it to dry.  Since my clothesline has still not been replaced, each costume was hung on a hanger then among the pear tree branches!  Oh!  What a colorful addition to the garden!  (It is probably a good thing that I have no near neighbors to complain about my antics.)  Anyway, the costumes dried nicely and are now packed in a box to be sent home with Darling Daughter.  If...if she takes them.  It did occur to me while washing them that the sequin covered fabric would make excellent doll clothes for the many (MANY) naked dolls she also left behind! (Wonder whatever happened to their clothes?)  We shall see if that reuse will happen or if she decides to clutter her place with the costumes!

 What I found humorous about this whole thing is that I sent her a message that I had gotten a new clothes tree and it was beautiful.  I merely was trying to get her attention as my messages of "You need to come get this stuff." usually go without a response.  So...I did get a response to this message! "Great, Mom!  But what is a clothes tree?"  Oh, my!  Are clothes trees a thing of the past where no one even knows what they are any more?  Geez!  I am getting old!  After a bit of an explanation as to what a clothes tree is, I eased my way into the costume dilemma.  She was more interested in the clothes tree.  Ok..ok...so a clothes tree is basically a hat rack!  Mine is not!  I was speaking in jest there!  I sent a photograph of the brightly adorned pear tree.  "Ooohh, my costumes!  Those bring back memories!"  Yes!  You need to take your memories home!  "But they look nice on the pear tree!  It would be mite bland without the colors flapping in the breeze."  Something tells me Darling Daughter is evading the issue here. 

  I will definitely give this "gift-giving" thing one more try before cutting the costumes down to become doll-size or turning the CD storage box into a clue hunt puzzle. Each kid will be presented a huge box of stuff when they are all gathered at the Little Bayou House for Thanksgiving.  They can reminisce over their childhood and then either keep or toss. Those things that can be donated or reused will be reboxed.  Those things that are beyond hope will be carted to the roadside for pickup.  No excuses...no ifs, ands, or buts...no "Keep it for me so I do not clutter our house."  It is up to them, this time!  And I will definitely give them all a lesson in what a clothes tree is!  Geez!  

Last Year's Hot Peppers!

   Last spring, Darling Daughter brought me a couple dozen "hot pepper" plants.  She said there was a combination of tabasco peppers and scotch bonnet peppers.  Alrighty, then.  I suppose I never thought much about hot peppers as being anything but hot.  So....I planted hot peppers in the garden.  Spring turned to summer and that waned into fall.  Those plants made exactly five peppers and, believe it or not, the snails ate those.  Hmmm.  Something was surely amiss with the pepper plants but, since winter has a way of killing fragile plants, I dug up each of the surviving plants, potted them and stuck them in the greenhouse.  There, they sat besides some tomato plants that, on a whim, I dug and potted. What was I thinking?  These were just more things for me to tend over the winter months.  Sort of dumb.

  Anyway, come this spring, I planted all of those things back into the garden.  Surprisingly, the year old tomato plants bloomed and set tomatoes almost immediately!  Woohoo!  The peppers sat dormant.  Last month, however, as the tomatoes withered...the peppers started thriving!  Yes!  Now I had hot peppers....lots of hot peppers....too many hot peppers!  What can you do with an overload of the things?  I quickly found out that you do NOT want to put them in the dehydrator in the middle of the kitchen with no vent fan.  Nope..NEVER DO THAT!  EVER!  NEVER EVER!  Just take my word on it...don't do it.

  Thankfully, Darling Daughter made the offhanded comment that her pepper plants did not survive and she would love "some" peppers.  YES!  Tomorrow, a box of peppers is heading to her house.  I hope she is ready.  I have some sixty plus on the table and will pick that many more before sending the box to her.

  While the tabasco peppers are not extremely hot on the scale of "pepper hotness", those scotch bonnets rate pretty high up there in heat.  In comparison...using the Scoville scale, tabascos range around 30,000 to 40,000 while the scotch bonnets go at a whopping 100,000 to 350,000 (heat units).  Yep, that is quite a difference!  

  Being as this pepper is so hot, what in the world possessed me to even agree to have it in the garden?  Every time I am out there picking the peppers, I have to marvel at that fact.  What was I thinking?  No, I do not wear gloves to pick the peppers even though I strongly advise the use.  I am sure that some day I shall make the mistake of wiping the sweat from my brow and will regret the lack of good judgement.                            

Stood the Test of Time!

   The sorting of items from the upstairs stash continues with a box of Darling Daughter's stuff.  Keep in mind that this box contains things stowed since probably 1995.  At that time, she was "officially too old" for many of her "early childhood days".  (Yes, she really did tell me that.)  Items were boxed for "safekeeping" and placed in the window seat in one of the dormers.  There are three such seats that open for storage.  I had three kids so you can get the idea what treasures are stashed therein.  One for each kid.  Darling Daughter's boxes contain the usual girly things as she was very prissy....or completely tomboy depending on her mood.  Her interests had a vast range...still do.  But, as I was going through the boxes, I suddenly heard music.  Not music box music but rather a short trilling.  Hmmm...I pondered what was happening.  Thinking the music must be coming from some windup type toy, it was not too disconcerting.

  Surprisingly, the tinkling was not coming from a windup toy.  I found the culprit...err...trinkets.  Yep...plural.  There were four fairy wands!   Each of the wands had two tiny fairies that could be stuck on the end of the wand.  This end had a tiny light that made the plastic fairies glow when a button was pressed.  That pressing also released a tinkling of music...fairy-flying music... I suppose.  Aww, I remember those things!  They were gifts back when money was scarce.  I had bought them for less than a dollar each!  Let's see you get them for that now!  (Or any sweet toy for that matter!)

  It did not surprise me that the fairy wands were "treasures".  What surprised me was that the batteries were left inside the toys and after around 27 years, were good!  Usually, batteries go bad and then cause problems for the toy, itself.  Not these!  Three batteries came with each toy when purchased and were never changed even though the little girl played many hours.  Wow!  Those are some good batteries!  I checked..."Vinnic"...never heard of them but, if the company is still making the batteries this well, I sure will be on the search for some!  Testing the batteries showed that they were almost fully charged even though the fairy wands had been shuffled around in a storage box for so very long!  They truly "stood the test of time"!  Just imagine!  I will show my little granddaughter the fairy wands when she visits.  The four wands (sans the batteries for the time being) and the eight fairies might be entertaining for a little while anyway.  Not sure if these "retro" toys can compete with the newfangled, techy things of today but...maybe!  (Those are much better batteries in most toys of today, though!  These older toys had that going for them, anyway!)

Stop and smell the roses...rose geraniums!

   In early March, my sweet daughter and son-in-law were thoughtful enough to remember my birthday with a gift of plants.  They and Son were about the only ones to remember the day and both gifts were gardening essentials...plants and a new rose arbor.  What wonderful gifts!  The arbor was something that was sorely needed since termites and hurricanes ruined the existing ones and, well, the plants are ones that I have been longing to have...rose geraniums. 

  I now have two large pots filled with the rose geraniums on either side of the front steps.  This is where I often drink my first mug of coffee so I am able to enjoy the beauty (and delightful scent) before I start my day's chores.  Speaking of the scent, it is said that the heavily scented leaves of the rose geranium have many healthy attributes.  One of those interested me extensively.  Supposedly, just smelling the leaves promotes cognition.  For those not growing the plants, the use of rose geranium oil provides the same.  I figure at my age, I can use all the help I can get!  So, each morning, I sit sipping coffee and sniffing the geraniums!  Oh, what the neighbors must think!  Even if this is not helping the brain, the scent is invigorating enough to get me up and busy! 

  

The Forgotten Day

   Once again, Son came through for me.  With the scourge (of termites) that has taken over the entire Gulf Coast, wooden things do not stand a chance...even "treated" wooden things.  My rose arbors fell to the mighty bugs.  I, along with the rose bushes, was devastated!  My beautiful rose garden had fallen to shambles.  Then one thing or another got in the way of repairs.  You know...things like hurricanes, health and life in general.  Each time I walked through that section of the Small Gardens, I was saddened.  I tried to support the rose canes with hogwire cages but it was not the same as the beautiful arbors.

  Early in March, my birthday came and went. Other than my sister, my brother and his girlfriend and one cousin, nary a birthday wish came my way.  Most everyone simply forgot or simply do not care.  Most everyone except my daughter and son-in-law who thought to get flowers...not the florist type that die quickly but geranium plants.  I am elated! They know I love my gardens.  I am excited to have a new challenge as I have never grown rose geraniums before. Then, Son, too, did a gardening thing.  He built a new arbor!  He asked what type I would like and I told him that I would leave the design up to him.  I am now a happy camper with my new arbor for the rose bushes and some rose geraniums for the herb shelf.  

  With kiddos like this, I have no reason to be sad about growing older.  They do indeed try to keep things cheerful and I so appreciate them.  I can reclaim my title of Queen of the Small Gardens and amble through the Rose Garden and Herb Garden with pure glee.  Now, you will have to pardon me while I go train the roses to cover the arbor and tend to my geraniums.  

A Bit Smelly But Lovely!

   For as long as I can remember (and that is a long, long time), there has been a bunch of plants that just pop up randomly in the yard.  I never know where new ones might sprout and the old ones never seem to die.  They go dormant in the winter but, come springtime, they start growing with a vengeance.  The plants must be relatively hardy as I do nothing in the way of care for them and will actually cut them down with the lawnmower, to make matters worse. Still, these plants grow.  And grow.  They are sort of like the kudzu of the Bayou but without the overpowering part.  For years, I had no idea of what the plant was called.  My sweet Aunt Marie gave me the first start when I first moved to the Bayou from the farm across the road.  I actually never think she told me the name of the plant.  We both loved gardening so sharing plants was the thing to do...names or no names.

  Well, the sharing has continued even though I am the "Old Lady of the Bayou" now.  Recently, I asked Darling Daughter if she would like a start of the plants and she was elated.  "Yes!  I love plants!"  Oh, the tradition continues which makes me so happy!  Well, I started thinking it was a shame to give an "unnamed" plant to someone so a bit of research started.  With the magic of the Internet, I was able to identify the plants!  These hard-to-kill, smelly, yet lovely things are Clerodendrum Bungeis.  Since that is a bunch for an old brain to remember, I found the common names of these things.  Rose Glory Bowers, Cashmere Bouquets or Mexican Hydrangeas are all listed as common names depending on region.  Personally, the Mexican Hydrangea fits wonderfully as the plants grow similar to hydrangeas that we are accustomed to seeing in gardens. 

  Tomorrow will find me digging some of the smaller plants, potting them and preparing them for a jaunt to Darling Daughter's place.  I am sure that my son-in-law will be on "plant retrieval" duty some time this week as there are still tomato plants awaiting their transport, too.  Goodness, it is nice to know that I can share things from the garden!

10,000 Seeds!

   Back a few months ago, Darling Daughter decided that I needed more plants.  Actually, she decided I needed more seeds.  I was elated to receive packet after packet of herb seeds for my birthday.  Herbs are not only for culinary use but I tend to lean more to herbal home remedies than pharmaceuticals.  I do take medicines prescribed by doctors, if need be, but for lesser problems an herb will usually come into play.  Darling Daughter knows I love to experiment with herbs in the kitchen, too, so she supplied me with a bunch of things that I normally do not grow.

  One packet of seeds was labeled "Toothache Plant" and had 10,000 seeds in it.  Wait?  What??  Did I read that correctly?  10,000 seeds?  Yep.  10,000 seeds.  While that is all good, I read it AFTER sprinkling the seeds in the dirt.  10,000 seeds the size of grain of salt went down, down, down into the soil never to be seen again....until two days later, anyway.  Now, 10,000 baby Toothache Plants have sprouted.  I am not sure what I am to do with 10,000 Toothache Plants. (Please, please, don't let this be an omen!)

   I am now trying to figure out what to do with that many plants.  The packet did make a claim that about a fourth of the seeds probably would not germinate but I think they were wrong.  It appears that every last seed was viable.  Yep, 10,000 baby plants that will grow into large plants that will bloom then make many more seeds are staring up at me from the soil.  Oh, my.  Somebody better want some plants!  (The photo shows just a 4 inch segment of the planted space.)

Close Encounters of the Snaky Kind!

   Snakes are out and about these days.  Yesterday, I watched as the ospreys squabbled over a cottonmouth and, then today, the encounters were more personal.  It all started as I was pulling out all the old winter crops from the garden to make space for the summer crops.  While there, I usually let the mind wander or listen to the birds.  It was one of those birds that caught my attention.  Papa Cardinal was making the oddest chipping noise.  I called to him and asked "What's the matter, my friend?" and then went about my work.  The chipping continued and then Mama joined the chorus.  These are the parents of a nest full of babies in the rose bush just outside the garden fence.  Ok, so Mama obviously needed help.  Going to the nest, I could see she was heroically guarding it from some unseen entity.  "Well, where is it, Mama?" I queried?  Yeah, I talk to my birds as if they understand.  Well, maybe they do.  I asked again and Mama fluttered off the nest to the nearby fence and then back again.  Ok!  I turned and came face to face with a snake!  There on the fence, mingled with the pea vines, was a rat snake almost 3ft long.  Hmm...ok.  Now what?  Papa Cardinal was on the fig tree having conniptions, Mama was on the nest standing guard and the only other creature coming to aid was a nuthatch!  Yep, a tiny nuthatch joined the fight!  

  Since Mama dutifully showed me where the snake was hiding, I figured it was my job to get rid of the thing that was causing their despair.  Well...I reached in, grabbed the snake and tugged it out of the vines.  That little rascal was feeling quite protective as it turned around and tried to nip me!  Nope, Little Buddy!  I swapped it to my right hand and flipped its body around the arm.  Even though, I was trying to save the baby birds, there was no reason to hurt the snake.  Now that I had him secure, it was photo time!  After a few shots, I toted Friend Snake down the hill and released it next to a large oak tree.  There was plenty of coverage for it and it was far enough from the birds...hopefully.

  The next incident was on the north side of the house and involved blue jays and a quite large rat snake.  Being as there was no nest nearby, I did not have to tangle with that one.  I am sure it would have been a bit feistier than its little brother.  After shooing the snake into a brush pile where the birds would not bother it, I resumed my yard work.  All was quiet on the hillside!

  Late this afternoon, Darling Daughter related an incident at her workplace.  She is a speech pathologist at a senior care facility and was having a group session when they had an unexpected visitor.  A small garter snake slithered into the room and was causing a big stir among the human residents!  So...what does Darling Daughter do?  She is like her mom, she picked up the snake and took it out into the gardens of the facility.  She said she sure was not going to let anyone kill that sweet thing!  Good job!  That makes a mom proud!  Thus ended the snaky encounters for this day...at least, I hope!  I am in for the night and would not want to find one in the Little Bayou House!

Yellow or White?

  By this time, most folks are familiar with the pungent yellow spice, turmeric.  Not only is it the main spice used in curry, it has been touted as having a great many health benefits. Personally, it has been one of my all time favorites for the past twenty or so years. I have used it to treat everything from colds to venomous spider bites.  It is good stuff.  Folks, if by now, you do not have this in your spice rack, you are behind the times.

  While the yellow type turmeric (photo above) is well known and widely used, its relative, the white turmeric or white haldi is not nearly so popular.  In fact, not many folks have any idea there is such a thing.  There is.  It is good. Perhaps you should try it as well.  White haldi is said to have the aroma sort of like the blend of mango, ginger and turmeric.  It, too, has many beneficial traits.  White haldi can be used exactly as the yellow spice which may lead you to wonder why in the world I am giving all of this information about it.  Well, it is simple.  White haldi is super easy to grow!  The yellow is, too.  

  Darling Daughter has a plethora of the white haldi plants in her yard.  When she and my handsome son-in-law bought their place, the previous owners had a few leafy plants in a garden.  The next spring, dozens of the plants sprouted and flourished.  Ok, so now the garden was full of these fine broad-leafed plants.  Then, they bloomed.  Oh, what gorgeous blooms those were!  That led to her researching the plants and she found that they were white haldi.  The blooms are unmistakable!  Now, several years down the line, they are having to dig out plants each spring as the rhizomes keep multiplying.  So...what do they do?  They bring a bunch here.  I am elated to have yet another fine herb to add to my garden of healing wonders.  

  This afternoon, I made my way to the edge of the greenhouse which is the outer boundaries of my realm these days.  There, the Queen of the Small Gardens found that the white haldi is blooming!  I almost missed these lovely, pinkish blossoms as they were hidden among the broad leaves!  Well, having the white turmeric bloom must mean that the yellow should be doing the same or so I thought.  Nope.  The yellow is growing well but has nary a bud to show yet.  I shall have to keep watch but for now, I shall enjoy the blooms (and the benefits) of the white haldi!  Folks, see if you can find a start of these plants.  Both are gorgeous, have lovely blooms and can be added to the kitchen spice racks!

Whew! What a job!

  Our son-in-law is an incredible ballroom dance instructor and, once each year, he hosts an event that showcases dancers.  Students, instructors and professional dancers all strut their stuff for several hours at the catered event.  It is always a sold out gala and everyone seems to enjoy themselves.  While I cannot dance, I am involved!  Mark and I head over to the venue to help decorate.  Darling Daughter always has a vision of what the place should look like and works tirelessly to create that look.  It is my job to be her helper and Mark's to usually go get things we forgot.  We spend about 7 hours on 14ft ladders putting up lights and buntings, do tablescapes and decorate the front of the stage.  Trust me, folks.  It is not an easy job but somehow, we manage to pull it all together.

  This year, I admit that I was a bit out of sorts.  The stress of things here made me almost back out of helping this year.  I am glad that I went, however, as I see now, that Elizabeth could never achieve the finished product without the "hired (unpaid) help". Even though she would give it a try and would most likely get most of it done, there just would not be the time to complete everything.  An extra set of hands is needed.  She would simply collapse from sheer exhaustion before finishing.  This evening, we are both deliriously tired but satisfied with our efforts to help Robbie pull off another successful event.  His talents, her talents and a handful of helpers' assistance really come together to be something special.

A Puzzling Piece Of Furniture!

  The Annual Clue Hunt on the Bayou is bearing down on us once again!  This is the seventh year that we have put on the event and, so far, have had a great response from the teams that participate.  The theme this year is pirates so it promises to be a fun time for all.  In a way, I am in the dark about most of the clues.  Son has overtaken the entire hunt and I am along for the ride.  He has made some incredible props once again this year but one stands far above the rest, if you ask me.  This prop will most likely become a permanent fixture in the Little Bayou House as it is a favorite! 

  What started out as a simple puzzle has turned into a gorgeous bit of furniture.  Hidden within that piece there are actually seven puzzles that need to be solved.  The teams should enjoy the challenge on this one!  

  The piece is a bookshelf that Son built to stand atop an old oak buffet making it appear to be a single piece.  To decorate the front, Darling Daughter drew three mermaids (after all, pirates and mermaids go together!).  I painted the mermaids but Son created the entire shelf himself.  Now, this beauty stands in the living room and will surely become a conversation piece for anyone who enters.  It definitely has made me happy.  It is just quirky enough to stand out but elegant enough to blend in with the other pieces in the room. Gee, I love this clue hunt especially when it brings stuff like this!

Curcuma Petiolata!

  Curcuma Petiolata....I was pondering just what these words meant when I first heard the two together.  They sort of roll off the tongue with a bit of smoothness not often found among words.  Well, this far in the Deep South just about every word has its own bit of oozy smoothness as we have what is called a drawl.  I have never noticed it.  Perhaps because I have the same drawl and think it is the only natural way of speaking.  Still, Curcuma Petiolata are a couple of words that are gentle on the ears when said together. Now, do you have any idea what this is?  It is a plant.  Well, a curcumin plant...ok, so a ginger plant...of sorts.  Curcuma Petiolata is a type of plant that is in the ginger family and gives us turmeric.  Now, we are getting somewhere! Turmeric and ginger are both found in my kitchen at any given time as they are two of my favorite spices and my go-to roots for home remedies! 

  But..why the sudden interest in this plant?  Well, last year, Darling Daughter gave me a "start" of a plant she has growing in her yard.  The rhizome was potted and has been doing rather well for the past year.  The plant has reached a height of about two feet and now has a lovely bloom! It is that bloom that made me do a bit of research on the plant.  I have always called these turmeric plants but never knew the correct name. 

  Curcuma Petiolata!  This plant is also known by a lot of other names such as Hidden Ginger, Hidden Lily, Queen Lily and Jewel of Thailand.  It is easy to grow as it requires little to no care once it is planted.  It does like a nice watering often but grows happily in sun or shade.  Darling Daughter has hers in full sun while mine is in full shade.  The only downside (if it can be called one) is that the plant multiplies readily so be prepared to thin the crop now and again.  Plus side, once the neighbors see the blooms and lovely foliage, they are usually more than happy to take a few plants off your hands.  Word of warning, however, there is some critter that loves to munch on the bloom as is evident by the lack of pink petals on the top of my bloom stalk!  Tomorrow, I will try to catch the culprit in action so it can be eradicated!  Do not munch my Curcuma Petiolata!

Tiny, Enchanted Garden

  It is a well known fact with my family that I am fascinated by mosses, ferns, lichens and the such.  Darling Daughter is much the same.  Elizabeth and I will tromp the swamps and marshes in search of anything interesting.  In fact, the fondness has grown so much that it is a great desire to have moss gardens in place of lawn.  Grass is boring.  Mosses are not.  They are magical!

  This morning while out walking the old dog, the ground shimmered with a gilding like none other. Normally this area is a deep, velvety green but, in the early spring, the carpet moss is almost gold.  This is because the moss had shot up its sporophytes!  These are tiny growths on the female moss that are actually "baby" mosses waiting to happen.  They appear to be tiny stalks with a capsule at the top.  Since they cannot support themselves at this point they literally "feed" off "Dear Old Mom".  The female moss (yes, these mosses reproduce sexually and asexually) supports the sporophytes until they are mature and the weather is perfect.  Then, the capsules will burst open and spores will scatter about the place with the aid of the wind.  The spores will fall to the ground and become either male or female mosses.  When reproducing asexually, a small portion of moss may be separated from the clump.  This piece can grow into a new moss.  

  The carpet moss is aptly named as it does indeed "carpet" the ground and appear to be a nice, soft rug.  If conditions are right, the carpet moss can reproduce and spread rather rapidly.   Mosses do require a good bit of water to flourish which is why they are readily found on creek banks, in swamps and, in my case, on a bayou.   However, since they draw most of their water from the air, the ground does not necessarily have to be soggy.  The weather this past year has been perfect for moss-growing.  The often rains and heavy fogs have kept it wet enough to support the growth and reproduction.  

  Personally, I think if the entire place was covered by mosses, it would be ideal.  After cutting grass for the past two days, it would be nice to have the ever neat and trim mosses covering the yard.  No more mowing!  Hmmm...that might be some of the allure but, overall, I think it would just be enchanting!

The Deed Is Done

  This being October means that the clue hunt should be in full swing.  It is not.  Son and I have had far too many interruptions to have everything complete.  However, that is ok since I had the foresight (and good sense) to not book any runs until the latter part of the month.  The first team is to come this next Friday.  We are still not ready...we are pushing the gun on this hunt.  The days are spent running around like maniacs trying to finish props, make sure everything works and decorate.  It is not an easy task for two people to do something of this magnitude and still lend a helping hand to those in need. 

  Today was much like every other day for the past couple of weeks.  We painted, sawed, hauled, hung, snipped, layered and did a multitude of other weird chores to get things in order.  Then, about noon, Darling Daughter sent a message that she was heading to the Little Bayou House.  She had an important job to do and today was the day.  Sweet Elizabeth was coming to dye my hair in some pretty unusual colors. To go along with my masquerade ballgown, she was intent on dying my hair to match the fabric which just happens to be black...with touches of purple and teal.  Yep.  The deed is done and now the gray is gone.  My hair is black...with touches of purple and teal. 

  While I am game to try anything, the hair thing has to be one of my gutsiest yet.  Always before, she has done it so the top layer is still reasonably "old lady" like.  I was able to brush the hair down and none of the odd colors would show.  Not this time.  Right smack dab in the middle of the newly blackened tresses, there is a large splash of bright purple!  Then in the back, teal and purple rule.  It is all good, though, and I find that with each look in the mirror, I like it better and better.  It is fun!

Don't Let Them Slip Away....

   As I was watering the remains of the garden, a lone dandelion fluttered gently in the breeze.  Occasionally, a wispy seed would float off the stalk and go flying away to become the next generation of happy little plants.  I was so tempted to do the whole "dandelion blow" thing but refrained.  What would people think if they saw me blowing seeds from a dead weed?  So, instead of doing something impetuous, I merely kept watering.  I kept doing what I was supposed to be doing.  I kept being bound by what was instilled in me long ago.  The brain wanted to cut loose and be free to do something spontaneous but expectations of what I was supposed to be got in the way.  My dandelion moment slipped away as the spray from the hose hit the stalk and the waterlogged seeds simply drooped soggily to the ground.  

  It is funny how we are bound to what was drilled into our heads at an early age.  I was taught to fit a tight mold of how my parents and grandparents thought children should grow into adults.  It was my duty to help others even if it made me exhausted and boring.  I was to be the wife, mother, grandmother, aunt and friend that everyone needed whenever they needed.  I was taught to handle my own problems without troubling others.  I was taught that I should stick to these goals even if it meant giving up my life as a person to do so.  For the longest time, I felt that "my" life was unimportant as long as everyone else was prospering and happy.  Just recently, I had a quiet time with my daughter and she asked "Mom, what do you want?  Really, what do you want out of life?  You have always encouraged me to step up, reach out and obtain whatever goals I dreamt but what do you want?"  I never thought of it that way.  My life was slipping away without me ever really fulfilling any dreams.  My dandelion moments were quickly slipping like sand in an hourglass.

  Why do we sometimes fall in these traps where everything we do is for the betterment of all others while we let ourselves slip away into oblivion?  That needs to change.  At Darling Daughter's insistence, I am taking some small, baby steps into exploring what I want,  She keeps after me so there is no turning back.  While my big life changes may seem to be minuscule alongside other folks', they are mountainous to me.  One step at a time...one dandelion moment at a time.  I will not let the next one (whatever it may be) glide away without at least trying. 

Seeing Specks Before My Eyes

  I guess the above statement could be taken in several ways.  From a medical standpoint, it probably would not be a good thing as it could mean a serious problem with eye health.  From a local fisherman's viewpoint, seeing specks would be a good thing since "speck" is the colloquial term for speckled sea trout and any fisherman would be thrilled to find a bunch of specks in the boat!  Then, there is Darling Daughter's viewpoint.  Seeing specks meant she found another snake in her yard and it was a beauty!  Elizabeth came across yet another snake that she dubbed as a friend.  A Speckled King Snake had found its way into the yard and made itself right at home.  She was delighted to have her new friend visit and told me that it was so docile that she got to "pet" it. 

  In our discussion about her friendly snake, we came to realize that not everyone loves snakes as much as we do.  While my folks were ok with snakes on the farm, others are not so fond of them.  I recall one time where Pop was doing some repairs on a pipe that crossed a pond on the old home place.  As a youngster, I sat at the water's edge and watched.  A large snake swam toward Pop who was waist-deep in the water.  I screamed at Pop about the snake.  His response?  "Oh, let the snake watch out for himself. I am not going to hurt him!"  That statement made a huge impact on my thoughts about snakes.  From that point on, I was not afraid of snakes.  They became a curiosity to me.  I tried to pass that curiosity and respect along to my own kids.  Elizabeth was a wee tot when I sent her to the garden to pick squash.  After she was out in the garden for about ten minutes, she came back with her basket of squash.  She then informed me that "There was a moccasin under one of the plants but I got the squash!"  Sure enough, she learned to recognize the venomous snake and, sure enough, there was one under the plant!  When asked about her calmness in facing the snake, she merely replied "You have always told us not to panic over things."  Yep, that love for snakes has been passed down to another generation!  Pop would be proud!