The Lovely Mimosa Syrup!

   Here lately, it has become a great interest of mine to find uses for whatever is on the place.  It is not of my nature to run to the store for things.  In fact, I do not go at all if what I need can be found, grown, repurposed or caught (fish, crabs and shrimp).  While most folks would consider this a "hard" way of doing things, it suits my needs perfectly so it has become a way of life.  The shelves are well stocked if not overstocked with jars of fruits, vegetables, nuts, juices and medicines.  Yep, I have turned to herbal remedies for a lot of ailments.  Doctors' visits still come into play if needed and for checkups but, if it is something I can fix with an elixir, tisane, balm or tincture, so be it.

  Now comes the surprising fact.  There are so many plants, shrubs and trees that fall into the category of healing plants that my "medicine cabinet", also known as a pantry shelf, seems to be filling quickly with the wondrous concoctions of days past.  Sometimes, folklore is more of a science than pure legend.  More than once, these "potions" saved me from illnesses that were brought to the Little Bayou House by unthinking people.  Just last month, after being exposed three different times, crape myrtle tisane mixed with sage and rosemary helped me to ward off a bad respiratory illness.  Both Mark and Son were ill and my sweet sister-in-law had the same virus.  My tisane came to the rescue!

  Now, a new "brew" has been added to the shelf!  Six half pints of the loveliest syrup was stirred up from an unlikely source.  Mimosa!  Albizia julibrissin!  Yep, that lovely, pink silk tree that grows so rampantly in the South has quite the healing properties.  I have been wanting to try this for ages but the trees bloom at the same time that the garden produces so my time was spent canning foodstuffs and the blooms did their happy thing of making the yard beautiful and delightfully aromatic.  Yesterday, however, Son was helping me pick plums when I mentioned how I wish I had time to pick the mimosa blooms.  He never questioned my motives but merely ambled down the hill and reached up to the high limbs.  "Are these good?"  Yay!  I picked and picked the fluffy blooms until I had a half of bucket full.  While he would hold down the limbs and I would pick, I started telling him about my plans.  He smiled and just nodded.  He knows his mom is weird but he also knows that the remedies work. 

  The blooms were "debugged" (think spiders...each carefully returned to their tree), washed and then put in a saucepan of water.  After simmering, the blooms were carefully removed and sugar (and a wee bit of lemon juice) added.  The simmering continued until a nice, syrupy blend was created.  This was canned and set to seal.  My beautiful syrup will be ready when needed!  (No, I do not store my canned goods in the window but it was the best way to capture the gorgeous color and clarity of the syrup!) 

  It feels good to be learning what Mother Nature has to offer even at this late in the game for me.  My kiddos keep telling me to learn new things but, in this case, I think I am learning old things...just new to me.  

See You Next Summer!

   The Night Blooming Cereus plants have outdone themselves again this year.  For some reason, the plants really love the little care that I give them.  They flourish on neglect, obviously.  Each spring, I lug them out of the greenhouse and plop them in some shady place of the yard.  Occasionally, a bit of water is hosed on them and that is about it.  Then, over the course of the warm months, they bloom...lots.  In fact, it it has been about every two weeks that the plants reset buds and, when the time was right, the yard would smell divine with the scent of blooms.  I can only imagine the frenzy of the moths that surrounded the blooms at night.  I have to admit that I only made three viewings of the late night blooming times, this summer.  (Exhaustion is not a friend!)

  With the recent cold spell visiting us, I did my duty and lugged the heavy plants back into the greenhouse.  I figured the plants were finished blooming for the season.  Now, they can stay snug and warm for the duration of winter.  A couple of days ago, it was necessary to water the plants and you can imagine my surprise to find nine large buds on the cereus plants!  Oh, my!  Plants...you should be resting now.  

  Again, I was too sleepy to trek out to the greenhouse to see the flowers in the middle of the night but...BUT!...I headed out at 4am the next morning.  The blooms were still open at that wee hour so I did not fully miss their glorious display.  When I opened the door, the heavenly scent engulfed me and, once again, I was carried back to my grandparents' place and one of their many "Night Blooming Cereus Parties".  (Yes, that was a thing back in the day when I was a youngster.)  Those parties often found me dozing on Pop's shoulder far before the "grand viewing" but I was roused from slumber to see the giant flowers.  I stood in the greenhouse and whispered a "thank you" to Granddad for giving me my first Night Bloomer so many years ago.  And I whispered "thank you and see you next summer" to the blooms.

Here Today...

   Years and years ago, my granddad rooted a small branch of a Night Blooming Cereus for me.  The plant flourished and was soon putting on quite the show with its late night blooms.  Then came kids and the poor plant was sorely neglected as my attention was diverted to child rearing.  Somehow, the plant survived all of those years with little to no care other than protecting it from the cold.  After the kids were grown, I was able to turn my attention back to the gardens.  Time and weather (hurricanes) had wreaked havoc on most of the gardens but the cereus lived on through it all.  It was time to bring the plant back to its full glory.  I started rooting and sharing the plants with anyone who wanted one and potting dozens to keep.  I also spent much time enjoying the summertime blooms...albeit late at night.  The blooms are gone by daybreak.

  The odd timing and shortness of bloom-time got me to pondering (as I am prone to do about most everything, as of late.)  Perhaps, just perhaps, this plant is here for a reason...if you are inclined to seek the purpose of all things.  With the huge, 8 inch, frilly flowers representing the beauty of life in general, the shortness of bloom time could be a reminder that all things should be enjoyed in the moment.  We should take the time to be grateful for what we are granted...WHEN it is granted.  What is here today, may be gone tomorrow.  Folks, find time to be thankful for all things for nothing is guaranteed.  Life, itself, is fleeting.

Wind, Bees and Flowers!

  The area was supposed to get a lot of rain last night and today.  Areas around us did...we did not.  We got wind. Tonight, thankfully, thunder rolls and showers come and go.  I am ready for a good soaking rain on the gardens.  If this happens, a couple of hundred little plants will be set in their "growing" spots in the morning.  The cauliflower, cabbage and broccoli plants really need to be spaced a bit further apart than I had sowed the seeds but it would have been pointless to transplant them during the drought.  So...we (the plants and I) wait on the rain.

  This morning, I headed to the pier to check the skiff and any fishing gear.  The winds were picking up a bit so it is better to take care of things before it gets too rough.  It was on that quick dash that I had to stop and watch a bee.  Yep, even during iffy weather, I watch the critters.  At the end of the pier, there is a lovely groundsel bush with its poofy white blossoms.  Right in the midst of the bush, there was a single goldenrod branch. I had stopped to admire the beautiful "floral arrangement" when I noticed another goldenrod branch had tilted over the end of the pier.  That was where I found my lovely, little friend.  The bee was hunkered down among the flowers to escape the wind.  While the blooms gave the bee something to grasp, it was still having a wild ride.  The whole thing was bouncing around with each gust.  At one point, the wind lulled and I was able to photograph the bee.  The bee, however, had a different idea.  After just one picture, it up and flew to the oak tree and nestled in among the lichens.  There, it would be safe from the whipping winds.  And I headed back up the hill to the Little Bayou House.

Little Snowflakes!

   Barely mention snow down here in the Deep South and you will stir up a whole flurry of excitement.  Most folks dream of a snowy day and will go so far as to "stock up" on every mentionable item in the store.  Me?  Not so much.  While I love looking at photographs of snow elsewhere, it is not one of those things that I wish upon the Bayou.  I adore a good cold winter (which has been sorely lacking for the past few years) but snow is just a nuisance.  But!  I do fully appreciate snowflakes!

  Summer Snowflakes are tiny white flowers that pop up wherever they please and bring a bit of brightness in the doing.  While other blooms are scarce, the little white and green blooms brighten the gardens, along the paths, in the woods or just about anywhere there is a nice place to grow.  Mom always said they heralded spring and that seems to hold true.

  

  Each tiny, cup-shaped blossom has six petals.  They are snow white with a small dot of green at the tip.  The leaves are thin and strappy.  The stalks can have four or five blossoms at graduated spaces.  The bulbs love to grow in clusters well hidden in nooks and crannies of the garden. The Summer Snowflakes (Leucojum) are often confused with Snowdrops (Galanthus).  There are two ways to distinguish between the two.  Snowflakes have six petals that are the same length and, of course, that dot of green, whereas, Snowdrops have six petals...three long and three short...and no dot of green!

   "Pretty, pretty little Snowflakes...where dost thou bloom?   Hidden in between the cabbages if there is room!"  Yes, one large cluster of the Summer Snowflakes somehow made its way into the vegetable garden and is happily blooming among the cabbages.  I love it!

"The Red Vine of Death"

  It is my habit to start the day with a leisurely hike to the pier then about the property.  This gives me time to reflect on life, in general, and then make mental notes of chores to be done during the rest of the day.  The stroll takes me all the way from the Bay, around the marsh edge, back to the creek and then to the west side of the place.  Once there, a full circle (of sorts) has been made and that mental notepad is full of ideas.  It is also my habit to take the camera along "just in case" something interesting is found.  There is always tons of stuff so many photographs are taken.

  This morning while I was back behind the canebrake, a blotch of brilliant red caught my eye.  It was about a foot off the ground making me think that I had found some small plant with a red bloom.  Well, the red bloom was correct but this was NOT a small plant.  This was the bloom of a Trumpet Creeper Vine!  The vine can get up to forty or more feet and will take over trees if it is left to wander.  What I found odd was that the vine was, indeed, far up in a tree but had sent down one lone tendril to bring me the beauty of its bloom.  That "tendril" was about ten feet long with nothing but the bloom and bud at the very end.

  It sort of felt like the vine was hurt that I not photographed its blooms in the top of the small oak tree so it sent one down for me.  Of course, the camera was brought into play and the image was captured in all its glory.   I am one of those weird people who loves these blooms and the vine, itself, even though it is a nuisance.  While the blooms are a favorite of bees and hummingbirds, the Trumpet Creeper can literally take over.  If left to its own accord, it can strangle trees to death.  Yep, this one will have to be cut back, if not removed.  Perhaps a small root can be potted and relocated near one of the arbors.  That way, both the plant and I can be happy!

Wondrous World

   I braved the mosquitoes yesterday morning to venture back behind the canebrake.  Down in this part of the woods, there is always something interesting.  Yesterday morning, it was what was beneath my feet as I padded along the soggy pathway.  With the copious rainfall of late, the ground was literally covered with mushrooms and other fungi.  All were brilliantly colored but so tiny that you could not see them from a distance of about forty feet.  Also, dotted here and there were tiny flowers that I have yet to identify.  Had the biting critters not been so vicious, I would have loved to linger there longer just photographing this "Land of Miniature".  

  Perhaps, after dousing myself with mosquito repellent, I will venture to the back of the property once again and find more treasures on the "forest floor".  The nigh on constant rains have kept me, more or less, housebound and I feel as if I am missing out on so much.  I was not made to be kept inside.  I need to roam the swamps to clear the mind and salve the soul.  A free spirit was never meant to be trapped within four walls.  I have to breathe.

Lantana Lane?

   The "Critter Neighborhood Watch Clan" was causing yet another uproar on the north side of the house.  While I do not mind snakes being around the place, they need to be a bit less conspicuous!  (Not really)  Let one bird spy a snake and every bird in the county joins in a squawk-fest.  I decided to check out what the birds found and see if I needed to do another snake relocation.  Thankfully, it was just a small black racer that was trying its best to escape from the bird noise.  While there, I noticed that the Lantanas were in full bloom.  These are not ones I have planted in the yard but rather some random shrubs that insist on popping up in the oddest places.  I usually let them grow where they wish and just enjoy the blooms.  These were blooming all along the side of the lane making the driveway quite pretty!

  The sight of the Lantanas brought back many memories of my childhood.  Back then, every yard had the bushes growing next to their front porches.  Porches were usually painted white and the bright blooms stood out beautifully.  Very, very few folks ever called them Lantanas, however.  It was almost a rule that the bush was labeled either "Ham and Eggs" or "Butter and Eggs" depending on the color of the blooms.  If a cluster was more yellow, it was "Butter and Eggs" but let those pink buds show up and the bush had the proper name of "Ham and Eggs".  Folks, thought a lot about food back then, I guess.  I never, ever remember anyone calling the shrubs Lantanas.  To this day, if someone asks, I usually blurt out Ham and Eggs.  (I do get a lot of funny looks!)

  Just recently, I found out that the Ham and Egg name is accurate, to some extent.  There is a cultivar of lantana actually named that!  The Butter and Egg name is now attached to a invasive weed in some parts of the country.  Now that the name thing is settled, it is probably good to note that both of these plants have some good points and some bad.  Lantanas repel bugs but are toxic to humans and most animals.  Don't go eating them.  The Butter and Egg plant is used in some folk medicine but can cause major medical problems if used incorrectly.  Best leave that one alone, too.  Perhaps it is better to just enjoy the beauty of the blooms and not dine upon either of the plants.

How Many Seeds??

   Dotted here and there throughout the gardens, a bright patch of marigolds can be found every year during the fall.  I do not plant the seeds.  These are volunteers from the original plants.  Nigh on ten years ago, I bought a little box of marigold seeds from DollarTree not knowing if they would even sprout.  Well, every last seed sprouted!  Marigolds were everywhere!  Knowing I should dead-head plants to prolong blooms, I decided on a whim to save a few seeds.  My thinking was that if I saved the seeds from year to year, I would never have to spend that big dollar again. I saved seeds.  I saved pint jars of seeds.  That grew into quart jars of seeds that very first year.  Finally, I just gave up and let the plants do their own thing.

  The next summer, what do I see?  Hundreds of tiny marigold plants popping up in the gardens...and in the lawn...and even on the gravel path.  Marigolds were everywhere!  Now...what was I supposed to do with quart jars of seeds?  I definitely did not need to plant them so I gave seeds to everyone...the neighbors, friends, family members, complete strangers...anyone who would take them.  

  Fast forward here ten years and marigolds come up in the most surprising places. They are like little drops of sunshine that pop up to bring smiles. I still do the same thing about seeds. I dead-head the plants to encourage new buds and save the seeds.  So far this year, I have at least a quart of the tiny seeds and the plants show no sign of stopping any time soon.  Who knew that cheap seeds would give such lasting results?  I am seriously thinking of broadcasting the seeds over the entire yard and letting them grow where they wish.  No more cutting grass!  After all, I cannot cut down flowers, can I?  In all reality, I probably will collect enough seeds to do at least 5 acres!  These things are relentless!  This is perhaps the  best dollar ever spent!

Long Name...Tiny Plant

   Lately, I have spent a lot of time on my hands and knees photographing the "World Beneath Our Feet".  There is a myriad of tiny plants that most folks do not even know exist or, at least, do not take the time to examine.  I do.  This much maligned, overlooked and trod upon world is full of life if you only take a few minutes to look at it.  People who wish to have the "perfect lawn" call the tiny plants "weeds".  Most are far too busy to even look where they step so the plants go unseen and are soon smashed.  Yet, they grow.  They flourish without attention.  They live.

  This afternoon, a whole patch of tiny flowers caught my eye.  Of course, that meant study-time.  After photographing the blooms that I had seen a million times since childhood, it was time to find out if the plants had names other than the scientific, unpronounceable sort.  I needed to know an easy to say, easy to remember name that I could pass along to anyone who shared an interest...usually kids since they are more open to finding joy in Mother Nature.

  I found a name...or...I found a whole slew of names...but one stood out above the others so that will be the "chosen one".  Turkey Tangle Frogfruit!  Now if that does not grab the interest and conjure up some pretty wild tales, nothing will.  Turkey Tangle Frogfruit!  Depending on who you ask, the name is sometimes Fogfruit but I preferred Frogfruit as I am partial to the frogs in the gardens.  These tiny (3 inch tall stalks) blooms offer a refueling place for a lot of small bees and moths.  Please be careful with the herbicides and insecticides that you spray onto your lawns.  Killing bees and moths is not a good idea. 

  Folks, take a few moments to check out the ground beneath your feet.  There are so many interesting things in that miniature land.                                                          

Queen of the Small Gardens

  I have crowned myself as "Queen of the Small Gardens" being as that is the entirety of my realm for the next week or so.  No hikes.  No pier.  No heavy work.  Boring.  While some would be happy campers with this new arrangement, I am not.  It is not my nature to sit on my duff.  I need to be doing...doing anything...just doing.   This newfound laziness is rubbing me against the grain and, though I am the queen of this realm, I wish to escape.  That, my friends, is in the plans!  Escape!  Oh, the things I could do!

  Actually, I cannot complain about being confined to the small garden spaces as this is one of my favorite places.  I am adjusting to the change and am finding that I have overlooked so many things here.  My appreciation for even the tiniest changes is overwhelming.  To think that just a week ago, I had free run of the Bayou and all of its wonders and, now, I am discovering new wonders that are practically underfoot. Perhaps a wakeup call is needed to literally show us how to appreciate what we are given.  All is good.

  This morning, I found that the phlox were blooming and the althea bush was rewarding my "devining" efforts with an explosion of flowers.  To be honest, the phlox plant is one that my sweet granddaughter bought for her uncle.  Son has no idea of planting nor caring for flowers so the plant was placed in my care.  He was, however, elated to see the blooms and we had a long chat about Sweet Mary Ruth and her choice of gifts.  Both of us decided that they were the best gifts one could receive.  The althea bush was from a cutting from my grandparents' home so it holds memories as well. These two discoveries were the highlight of my morning.  Yeah, not much in comparison to some folks' day but highly exciting for the Queen of the Small Gardens.  I can be satisfied with what I find and elated just to be seeing a new day.  Life is good.  

Memory Holders

  Years and years ago (way back when the kids were small), we used to take hikes back into the creek bed.  While other parents were too afraid to let their kids even go outside, I encouraged mine to roam the woods.  Of course, I was with them but the dangers were still there.  I figured my kids needed to learn to handle scary situations rather than hide from them.  Obviously, it worked.  As adults, they are alert to their surroundings, are able to face and conquer problems and have an infinite love for nature.  Our treks allowed them to learn to smell snakes before seeing them, explore the hidden wonders of wild creek beds and learn the flora and fauna of the area.

  It was on one of those "expeditions" that we found the creek bed filled with purple flowers.  The wild Stoke's Asters were in full bloom.  The kids were so enthralled with their own "Secret Garden" that we decided to dig up a couple of plants to bring back to the yard.  I had no idea if the plants would even grow after being moved from their boggy domain but they did.  This week, I was surprised by a few blooms peeking out from under the jasmine vines.  Their rich purple color led me to believe that the asters were happy where they were planted so many years ago.

  Stoke's Asters are wildflowers that can be found all over the Southeast.  They do well being transplanted into gardens as long as they have a bit of shade and well-drained, acidic soil.  After they are established, the plants require little to no care.  The blooms also do well as cut-flowers as they will last up to a week in a vase!  

  I love my little aster patch, not only because of the blooms, but also because of the memories of our creek bed hikes.  I miss those times.  It has occurred to me that perhaps I do not have gardens but, instead, have "memory holders"!

I AM worth it!

  Every now and again, we all need to be reminded that we ARE good enough.  Sometimes we get hammered down by the brutal reality of life and it seems that our inner feelings start to lag.  We ARE good enough.  In fact, we are beyond good enough.  We are perfect.  That perfection may be different with each of us but we are perfect in our own ways. 

  With everything that has been happening on the Bayou over the past year, my confidence was beginning to take a beating.  Stress from caring for ill family members and for ill and aging pets just about took its toll.  I was beginning to doubt my own self-worth.  Trust me when I say that is a hard thing to handle.  My remedy was to work myself into a frenzy with home renovations and yard work.  Then, that too, started to take a toll on this old body.  Something had to give.  While I could not take a break from the care-giving responsibilities, there had to be some easier way of stress relief other than my tried and true method of hard work.  It took the idea of a very dear friend to "plant" a bit of happiness.

  One day, this sweet friend mentioned that we should buy ourselves flowers.  While it was nice to receive flowers from others occasionally, buying them for ourselves could reconfirm our confidence.   I do not buy flowers so, instead, I picked.  I picked a bouquet of gardenias and stuck them in a vase. Well, that was done so why did I not feel better?  After doing a few chores, I walked back into the living room where the bouquet sat and immediately noticed how nice the room smelled.  That was nice.  Later, I returned to the room and noticed that the sun beaming through the window was highlighting the blooms.  That was nice.  Still later as I sat editing photographs, the flowers, once again, caught my attention and I thought of Tina, my sweet friend.  Yep, THAT was nice!  

  Those three things lifted my spirits even without much effort on my part.  While I did not buy my flowers, I had followed Tina's advice and had some just for me.  I was worth it!  The effect was pretty special so, today, I went out and picked another handful of gardenias.  If one bouquet lifted the spirits to any extent, perhaps I needed to repeat the process.  I think Tina is on to something here, folks.  Doing one small thing just for ourselves can make all the difference in the world.  It is important to take care of ourselves not only physically but also emotionally.  Tina, thanks for the advice!  A vase of flowers  each week can bring a lot of smiles.

The Beauty of Squash!

  It is my longstanding habit of rising before the sun and starting the day with a trip to the pier then back to the gardens.  This is a throwback to my childhood when I was either fishing with Pop or hoeing weeds with him during the early morning hours.  He instilled the love of both in me and I carry that with me to this day.  Fishing and farming!

  This morning as I was tending the garden, a thought occurred.  Why are squash plants not considered to be "flower-garden worthy"?  The broad leaves of the plant are just as showy as any hosta and the blooms can top just about any lily.  The plants are beautiful and also produce supper!  What more could you ask?  I knelt in the soft dirt to get a really good look at the squash bloom and was greeted by a number of tiny bumblebees as they gathered the pollen.  It seems that those and the honeybees fully appreciate the squash plants!  

  Squash are separated into two categories...summer squash and winter squash.  Zucchini, yellow crook neck and pattypan are types of summer squash and butternut, acorn and pumpkins are winter squash.  A lot of folks think that "winter" squash are planted in the cooler months but this is not so.  They are called that simply because they have tougher skins and can be stored for a long time during winter.  While it is not that common today, years back, folks harvested the winter squash and stored them for use during the cold months when it was hard to have a garden.  The tough skins kept the squash from rotting or becoming dried.  This provided food when times were lean.  I still overwinter a basket of butternut squash in the back room and pumpkins wherever I find a place to put them!  They last just fine and provide many a meal when the garden is planted with winter crops.  That, my friends, is the beauty of squash...other than their fine leaves and lovely blooms!

Pretty Little Bug Repellent!

  While I love plants and love to garden, I have a bad tendency to let things grow to wild abandon.  Keeping bushes and shrubs trimmed in nice shapes and keeping plants within the boundaries of the garden are all fine and dandy for those who live a controlled life.  I do not.  I am sort of wild and free so why should the plants around me be confined?  Yes, I do trim thing when it is most helpful for the growth of a plant but other than that, I let them do what they want to do.  Sometimes, this gets out of hand.  For instance, the grapefruit trees are pushing 30 some odd feet in height and that makes it a bit difficult to pick the fruit. Perhaps those should have been pruned but it is far too late for that now.  I do love to see plants growing to their utmost even if that means they take over the place.

  
  Down behind the citrus grove near the canebrake, there has been a small lantana growing for a number of years.  Since the bush was not in the way and since I adore the tiny, multicolored blooms, I let it do its own thing.  For years, it stayed pretty much self contained.  I would mow around it and that was just about the most care it received.  This year, however, when I was fertilizing the citrus trees, I threw a large handful of fertilizer into the midst of the lantana bush.  Uh, oh!  It must have needed that extra nourishment as now it has decided to reward me.  The bush has tripled in size and is covered with the orange, pink and yellow blooms!  It sprawls across the ground in huge mounds!

  Am I upset with the new found Goliath sized shrub that threatens to overtake a lemon tree in the next few weeks?  Not in the least.  Since that particular lemon tree has yet to bear any fruit in the ten years we have had it, I have threatened to remove it anyway.  The lantana may as well fill up the space with its happy blooms and dozens of visiting butterflies!  As an added bonus, it is a proven fact that these lovely plants repel mosquitoes! (Since I found out that fact, I am seriously thinking of letting the lantana just take over the entire yard!  Flowers...good.  Mosquitoes...bad!)

The Compost Has Been Invaded!

  What started as a potted plant soon spilled over and became a garden plant.  Then, as things do happen, it spread a bit further.  Clippings were dumped into the compost pile and, now, the compost pile has the healthiest bunch of purple blooms atop of four foot tall stalks!  Did I make a mistake by tossing the clippings?  Will our place soon be overrun with ruellia as it is with wisteria?  Hmmm...both grow continuously, spread rapidly but have beautiful purple blooms!  Mistake?  Or happy accident?

  Ruellia Simplex goes by about a gazillion different names.  Mexican Petunias, Purple Showers, Wild Petunias, Mexican Bluebells, and Hardy Petunias are a few of the monikers used to describe the plants.  There are as many different names as there are people growing them.  One odd thing...even though most of the names label them as petunias, they are not even related to that plant.  They belong in a completely different family of plants. The plants are considered invasive in Florida and some other states but, for some strange reason, the plant is readily available at nurseries everywhere.  My start came quite by accident as it came with some "hand-me-down" plants.  In fact, it did not seem to be an aggressive spreader until it hit the compost.   The plant has always stayed more or less contained near the Frog Pond but when those "cuttings" hit the fertile soil of the compost, things exploded!  The compost has become a flower garden covered in a sea of purple blooms.

  Now the question...do I eradicate the plants or let them grow?  As the compost pile sits, I can easily mow around it and keep the plants under control.  Unless birds carry seeds far from the area, that mowing will keep any from spreading.  I have to admit that I do like the plants and have been studying a bit to see if there are other uses for either the roots or leaves.  In that aspect, things look promising but, on the other hand, do I really need to "farm" Mexican Petunias?

A Feral Cat, Tea Olives and the Bayou Princess

  This morning's hike was a quick one as I heard Ms. Nycto, the Bayou Princess Cat, howling like no one's business.  That meant only one thing...another cat was in the yard.  While Ms. Nycto may look huge and may have a loud howl, that is about the extent of her ability to defend herself.  She is after all...a princess....and, well, one of royalty does not tussle.  Her best idea is to climb the nearest tree not knowing that other cats can climb equally as well if not better.  The tree climbing idea is not a bad one except Ms. Nycto has yet to figure out how to get back down out of a tree.  She sits and meows plaintively in hopes that Son will climb up after her.  My idea?  Leave her be.  She will learn that what goes up...must come down.  Her doleful calls pull at the heartstrings, however, so I try to divert the whole event.  

  It was when I went through the east garden gate that I had to stop in my tracks regardless of an impending cat brawl.  Wafting in the air was the sweet scent of peaches...or apricots...or something!  Yep, the Tea Olive was in bloom and the delightful aroma overpowered the urge to rescue a helpless princess.  The tiny blossoms had captured my attention!  Oh, my goodness!  There appear to be enough that I may dry them for future use in tisanes!  

  Tea Olive is a shrub that has the tiniest blossoms but the largest scent.  The one quarter inch blooms can fill an entire garden with a peachy fragrance like none other.  These blossoms are often infused in tisanes to give the tea-drinker a most pleasant experience.  The blossoms can also be added to jellies, baked goods, soaps and, well, just about anything you wish to have a delightful scent.  

  My pause at the garden gate was soon interrupted by the Bayou Princess.  She had come to glare at me as if to say, "Why did you not come when I summoned you?"  She looked none the worse for wear and prissed her way to the front step and demanded to be let back inside.  She had already had enough frustration for the day and needed a nap!  I gladly consented so I could continue my hike in peace.

Pretty, Pretty Narcissus!

  As I was out and about this morning, a strange scent caught my attention.  Since there was a slight easterly breeze, I followed the wafting aroma to find that the Paperwhite Narcissus were blooming.  My thoughts immediately flowed to Mom and her love for these blossoms.  She always stated that they were a sign that winter would not last forever.  Well, in this case, winter has not even really showed its face so the blossoms are early.  They seem to be a bit confused by our summer-like weather.  While it is true that the blooms represent a "new birth" and "purity" with their snow white petals and easy to sprout bulbs, there is a far deeper legend that hides with the plant.

  It seems that the name Narcissus comes from the Greek word for narcotic.  It refers to the almost "addictive" (not really but ok) scent of the blossoms.  It is also tied to a mythical young man by the same name.  It seems that Narcissus was so very handsome that he could not help admiring his beauty whenever he had the chance.  He would venture down to the lake to peer into the glassy waters where he eventually fell in love with his very own reflection.  Then, he literally fell into the lake and drowned.  (hmm?)  Immediately, the Paperwhite Narcissus plants popped out of the ground and bloomed.  Alrighty, then.  This legend is how we came to use the word narcissistic when referring to someone who is self-obsessed.  

  All of this deal with Narcissus made me giggle when I saw an add for Paperwhite Narcissus this evening.  "Great gift!" was how they touted the plant.  While I would be more than happy to receive another plant, one has to wonder about the meaning behind such a gift.  Is the plant given as a reminder of a new beginning or is there an ulterior motive saying "Hey, you are an egoist and need to change before it is too late"?  I, personally, like the flowers simply because they usually bloom when nothing else in the gardens are and because Mom liked them.  

  ~Did you know that there is a difference between an egoist and an egotist?  Yep, both define characteristics that are similar but there is a big difference.  An egotist is self absorbed but feels superior to others in some way.  An egoist simply is preoccupied with his (her) self but does not necessarily feel above others.  Now, aren't you glad I cleared up that for you?

Be careful of the queen!

  Mark brought home two large mum plants for either side of the doorway.  This has been sort of a ritual for the past few years and, I have to admit, it sure makes the place look like fall.  The ones he brought this time were still just buds so they are opening slowly and should last for quite a while.  Each time I enter the Little Bayou House, I have to stop and smile.  Fall has come!

  Have you ever wondered why mums have become the "Queen of Fall Flowers"?  I do ponder such odd things and often have to research a bit to satisfy that nagging thought.  Why?  Who made the decision that chrysanthemums represented fall?  Not that I am complaining...just wondering.  Well, my research did not satisfy the ponderance.  Everything states that they are known as the "Queen" but not much else.  Most of the authors give a history of where mums originated, how Texas has homecoming mums and how we all like them but nothing is said of why they have been dubbed as queen.  Why not daisies?  The roadsides are full of yellow daisies.  Why not purple ageratum?   That stuff is amazingly brilliant, drought tolerant and long lasting.  Why not goldenrod?  Oh yeah.  Goldenrod gets the bad rap of being an allergen even though that is hogwash.  Still, it perplexed me as to why mums?

   Even with all of the rambling about homecoming and colors, there was no real reason ever given.  I guess I should just enjoy the blooms without questioning the titles.  They are favorites!  Do keep in mind, however, that mums are toxic to dogs! Eating one could cause a lot of major problems so it is best to keep your pets away from the fall decorations.  (Not that old Mr. PJ would ever eat a flower but you never know!)  So, long live the queen!

Pop's Petunias

  Back on the farm, Pop had knowledge of just about everything.  He always claimed to be a "Jack of all trades but a master of none".  I have to disagree with him on that one.  He was a true master of so many things and gardening was one.  How the man had so much energy was beyond me.  He kept the fields planted and tended, took care of the farm animals, helped Mom with the kids, had a side business repairing small motors and still had time to have gorgeous flower gardens.  Even when he had become aged, he still worked from sun up to sun down.  I truly wish I could be like that.

  It was those flower gardens that came to mind today while I was out picking figs.  I could see beyond the fig tree, across the garden fence and under a peach tree where a pretty little purple flower was blooming.  This is a volunteer that comes up every year somewhere in the yard. I never know where I will find the tiny petunia plant but I always cherish it.  You see, this plant is one that originated in Pop's gardens.  He had petunias spilling out of every garden in the yard!  For some reason, he was partial to the plants.  Each year, he would scour the beds to find the tiny seedlings then transplant them in between other plants such as zinnias and marigolds.  The petunias would "fill in" any bare spots.  I always remember only purple petunias.

  This year, two volunteer plants came up.  One was under the grapefruit tree and the other in the back vegetable plot.  Since I had no flower beds prepared yet when I found the tiny plants, I potted them both.  Neither plant is doing as well as Pop's but, then, I am not the gardener he was.  I am just happy to find the plants each year so I can enjoy a little "throwback" time to the old farm.