Lucky, Little Blooms!

   Back in December, we had winter.  Yep!  Old Man Winter made his way this far south and dropped the temperature down well below freezing for four days.  While I do not mind cold, the garden was not too happy.  I had planted (over planted because people forgot to come get plants) cabbage, broccoli, cauliflower, green peas, beets, mustard greens and collard greens.  Knowing the cold for that many days was going to wreak havoc on the plants, I spent two days piling leaves in the gardens.  I figured that covering the plants with a foot of leaves may help.  Well, it did...it did not.  Several hundred of the plants perished.  Others survived and are now doing well.  I did have to replant the entirety of the peas but they are growing extremely fast so, hopefully, peas will be on the menu soon.  

  Since the beets took a beating, I decided to plant spinach between the few survivors.  Checking the spinach seedlings caused me to find my smile for the day.  Since the nice weather has returned, the oxalis have emerged and are blooming!  I love these tiny plants so much that I allow them to grow wherever they wish...including in the beet/spinach rows.  It matters not.  

  Back years ago, Mark's grandma (Momie) showed me her lovely pot of oxalis and it was during our conversation that I learned how she adored the purple blooms.  She and I shared a good many times together and I grew to love the plants as much as she did.  Oxalis are also known as wood sorrel and bloom in some lovely colors including purples, pinks, whites and yellows.  Their leaves are what a lot of folks call "clover" when they find that "lucky" four leafed one.  Most of the time, the leaf stalk is topped with three leaves but occasionally a fourth leaf shows up!  I suppose it can be lucky if you wish since I feel lucky just seeing the pretty flowers as they tell me that spring is on its way soon.

The Box Stays

  A couple of weeks ago, we were having daily rains which put a damper on doing much outside.  Since I cannot sit still for very long, this led to a massive undertaking inside the Little Bayou House.  Son and I ripped out floors, tore down walls, rebuilt what we demolished, cleared cabinets, painted, varnished and literally redid the laundry room, kitchen and dining room.  After getting everything returned to its proper place (whether it was in the cabinets or trash can) and I was pleased with the work done.

  It kept raining...so, I moved onto another room.  This time, I tackled what used to be Darling Daughter's bedroom.  It has been empty since she married and has become sort of a catchall for any item that needed to be stashed somewhere but where?  So, needless to say, it was time for that to be emptied.  It was there that I found "treasures...which are probably trash to others.  One of these treasures brought smiles so it will be returned to the room once it has been transformed.  Mark's grandmother gave a small trinket box to me before she passed away.  The box is made of celluloid, the first synthetic plastic.  It is embossed with dragons giving it an Asian feel and has a bird (many say rooster) as a handle.  I think it is lovely!  The deep, rich burgundy color has always been a favorite.  

  Why does this trinket box mean so much to me?  Well, simply because my grandmother-in-law thought enough of me to give it as a gift.  "Momie" did not have much in the way of wealth and only had a few things left as she aged.  She and I did share an undying love for one another so when she handed me the box, I felt like she gave me a million dollars.  The box stays.  No argument will change that.

Wildflowers, Momie and Memories

   So the yard work continues as I have decided to rework the entire thing.  Perhaps spending so much time confined to the Small Gardens while I healed has made me grow weary of the hodgepodge arrangement.  I am now doing a much more (not) organized hodgepodge arrangement.  Seriously, my gardens will never be tidy and well-manicured.  Personally, when I see yards like that, I cannot help but think of how bored I would be.  I need the surprise of what may be just around the next corner.  So, I am busying myself creating "corners". 

  While putting the finishing touches on a weird piece of yard art made from hurricane donated wood, I was pleasantly surprised to see tiny wood sorrel blooms peeking out from beneath the chives.   While most folks see these as weeds, I find their unique way of popping up in unexpected places quite appealing.  Wood sorrel was one of Mark's grandmother's favorite flowers and she kept a large concrete urn of them on her tiny porch.  Even though she never did a thing to care for them since she was unable to venture outside, they bloomed profusely all spring and summer.  Whenever I would take the kids to visit her, she would always mention her lovely flowers.  

  It is sort of funny how things stick with you and memories come hopping out with a simple view.  The wood sorrel blooms brought a flood of memories of happy times spent with "Momie".  She and I got along famously perhaps due to our love of simple things.  I sure miss her.  Thank you, sweet little wildflowers for brightening my day with happy memories.

Momie and the Wood sorrel

  This time of year, the tiny purple blooms of the oxalis or wood sorrels brighten every nook and cranny of the Bayou.   At one time, there were a very few of the plants growing here and those were weak, thin plants. Since the plants were pretty,  I babied those until they became healthy, strong plants.  Each year, the plants were covered with blooms which made me smile.  At the time, I had no idea that the plant was edible.  I just liked the looks of it and loved the fact that it was one of the first plants to bloom in the spring and continued to bloom throughout the summer.  It fast became one of my "domesticated" wildflowers and whenever I found it in the gardens, I let it grow.  Others deem it as a weed but, here, weeds can sometimes be welcome.

  This morning while I was out doing some trimming, I was careful to leave the larger patches of wood sorrel.  One thing that I discovered about using the weed-eater, is that it is a mindless job.  As long as you keep the thumb on the trigger and feet clear of the twine, things go relatively well.  Since it does not take a lot of brain power, my mind takes the opportunity to wander a bit.  This morning's brain ambling took me back to Mark's grandmother's place.  This dear lady took me as one of her own and shared a good many things with me.  We had a lot in common. One funny little thing was that we both loved the wood sorrels.  On either side of her door, she had a large concrete urn.  These urns were filled with the oxalis plants and she babied them as I did the wild ones.  The wood sorrel was her pride and joy.  Only Momie (the family's name for her) could get away with having "weeds" in her garden boxes.  No one dared say anything about it as she could and would take them down off their high horses right quick.  In other words, "Don't mess with our wood sorrel!"

  Now every time I see the first blooms of the season, I think of this dear lady and our friendship.  We remained close until her death years ago.  The fact that a memory can be triggered by the sight of a tiny wildflower just means to me that she is still with me and always will be.  Kindred spirits...so to speak.

How Quickly....

   Years ago when Mark's grandmother was still with us, she would lament the fact that her only visitors came on Christmas and Easter.  Oh, now and again (but rarely), someone would stop in to see her but they never sat down and visited for long.  It was more of a hit and miss thing.  I am sure she heard all of the usual excuses that we all give.  "I am too busy with work."  "The kids are running me ragged."  "I have errands to run." etc.  I had it easy.  Since Mark insisted that I not work outside the home, I had time to be home with the kids and go visit our elderly relatives.  To me, it was a pleasure.  The kids loved going with me and they brought smiles to the old folks' faces.  There is nothing like a child to brighten the day of those not able to get around as much as they did in the past.  Still, my visits did not make up for the emptiness of Momie's day.  She longed for visitors that never came.  On holidays, she would get up, struggle to dress in her nicest clothes securing the buttons/zippers with arthritic hands, place a few decorations on display and set out what meager sweets she had in hopes that her family and friends would come. Only once were we able to convince her to spend Christmas Eve night and Christmas Day with us. Momie was afraid that she would miss a visitor if she was not at home.  She so wished that she could be a part of the happy times that were once a big part of her life.  Shame on us all for neglecting those who need us.  We tried but it was just not enough.  I would give anything to go back and make amends for not spending the entire holidays with folks like Momie.

  How quickly those sands of time slip away from us.  Now, it is my turn.  Tonight, being Christmas Eve, the Little Bayou House should be bustling with joyous laughter, folks with packages, and last minute preparations for the "Big Day"!  It should be filled with the aromas, sounds and sights of Christmas.  Sure, the Little Bayou House is decorated....minimally.  Since no one else is here to enjoy the decorations, it was of little use to adorn the place.  Yep, there are a few home-baked cookies sitting on a tray in the dining room but nothing like the dozens of trays from years past.  There are few packages under the tree, stockings hang limp (no Santa will visit tonight) and my Christmas Eve meal consisted of crackers, cheese and an apple.  I sit listening to the old dog snore and the cat purr while I sip a cup of tea.  This is nothing like Christmases past.  There will be no pitter patter of little feet coming down the stairs nor any squeals of delight because "Santa came!".  The sands of time have come crashing down around me.  I am "Momie" wishing things could be different. 

  Before you get the idea that all is gloom and doom on the Bayou, I beg to tell you...it is not.  I refuse to wallow in self pity.  The tree is lit, carols are softly playing and I am perfectly content with my memories and with the fact that next Christmas most of the family will be home.  Then...the lights will blink a bit brighter and the carols will be sung louder.  Things will be merry and bright.  These were all just thoughts as I sit here this Christmas Eve night.  Until then...Merry Christmas, folks.  May the bliss of Christmas Peace find you and be with you the entire coming year.  


 

The Silver Morn

  Sometimes, you can tell from the moment you awaken that it is going to be a good day.  Not that I have many other kind of days but a good day is always welcome.  My grandmother-in-law (Momie) used to always say that any day that you were able to get out of bed was a great day and that you are blessed.  Through all of her many years, she proclaimed that "Life is good!" I believe her.  That said, I am up before dawn.  Rising early was learned back on the farm and is a habit that is hard to break.  Rising early gives me an opportunity to have a little peaceful time before beginning the chores for the day.  There is just nothing better than sitting on the pier, sipping on a mug of hot coffee while watching the sunrise.  

  The other morning, Mark and I wound up on the pier after a short stroll around the hillside.  This is our usual stopping place.  We listen to the world as it awakens around us and we watch as all sorts of critters search for breakfast.  That morning, however, it was the sunrise that caught all of our interest.  Clouds from an overnight rain storm lingered on the horizon.  While the rising sun usually bathes the clouds in all sorts of colors, this sunrise was different. The reds, oranges and pinks (with a dabbling of purple) never fails to awe but, on this particular morning, none of that happened.  No bright hues splashed across the sky.  Instead, a study in grays, silvers with a hint of blue greeted us with the sunrise.  Even without the flashy colors, the morning was perfect!  

  Many times, you need the calming effects of muted tones to ease you into the day.  A peaceful morning can set the stage for an easygoing, happy-go-lucky kind of day.  That pretty much describes my entire weekend.  Yep, lots has been accomplished.  The past few days have been busy.  I am tired.  BUT...the serenity of the silver morn has stayed with me through the entirety.  Momie, you were right.  Life is good and I am blessed.

Service for Two!

  The cleaning and decorating of the Little Bayou House was in full swing once again.  Each room received a good dusting, sweeping and mopping before the actual decorating was attempted.  I managed to do the entire house....except the kitchen and that is cleaned just not Christmasy, yet.  Tomorrow will see me up bright and early to complete that. Every room in the house will look like a Christmas Wonderland and I can sit back and relax.  Oh, and make gifts, wrap those gifts and bake billions of cookies and other goodies.  FUN TIMES!

  While giving the small hutch a holiday makeover, I used one of my favorite sets of dishes as a starting point.  This is a set that only includes place settings for two.  Yep, two.  I suppose this will have to be more for "show" than actual use in my house.  The set (of course) has a story as does most everything in the Little Bayou House.  Mark's grandmother gave me the set one year long ago.  She told me that after Hurricane Camille (1969), she was given the dishes. It seems that a restaurant donated dishes to help those in need.  Being the sweet lady she was, she insisted that she only needed service for two.  The others could be given to someone else.  She used the dishes for years and years and then passed them on to me.  I was honored even though they are probably not something most folks would like. The dishes are heavy and durable like most cafeware. Mom would have called them "Country Clunky"!  (This was her term for the heavy crockery pieces that she had.)   Every Christmas, I put the dishes on display simply because of the colors.  The creamy background and red transferware pattern give a nice homey feel to the place.  A few sprigs of greenery and a couple of porcelain Santas make the hutch quite festive.  Tomorrow will see me out cutting some fresh pine!

  Transferware was a method that was developed back in the mid-eighteenth century to replace the tedious art of hand-painting dishes. The hand-painting process was time consuming, difficult and expensive whereas transferware process could throw out printed dishes in a fraction of the time and for a lot less.  This made dinnerware and decorative pieces affordable to most folks.  It does not bother me in the least that the pieces I have are not highly expensive.  To me, the dishes are priceless!
 

A Party of Memories

  The Little Bayou House has been transformed into some weirdly beautiful place for the Second Annual Clue Hunt.  Nothing, I repeat, nothing looks like it did just two days ago.  Everything that was not nailed down has found a new place to reside to make room for items that have long been stashed away in trunks, closets and cedar chests. Now the place is fitting to host the Edgar Allan Poe themed gala!  

  A few of the items put out for display were not intended for use during this clue hunt but, for one reason or another, they just seemed to shout out at me when I came across them.  One such thing was a doily made by Mark's grandmother.  Momie, as she was lovingly called, crocheted all sorts of fanciful doilies and I was the lucky recipient of a very special one.  This large, multicolored one was her favorite.  Her giving it to me made me feel as if perhaps, I was "her" favorite as well.  Maybe favorite is too strong of a word for this but at least I feel that she must have cared for me a bit.  I was (and still am) honored by the gesture.  I adored this lady and sorely miss her at times.

  Momie's crocheting was the envy of many folks.  She could take string from flour sacks and make beautiful table toppers!  Many of which she donated to her church to sell in their fundraisers.  Hers were always the first to sell and that speaks volumes of her work.  The doily that I now own is huge.  It stretches nearly three feet in diameter and is crocheted entirely out of "scrap" string.  She used remnant thread from other projects to make this one.  Hundreds and hundreds of stitches make up the rounds and these were done with the arthritic hands of a lady in her 90's.  

  I pulled the doily from the cedar chest and decided that it had been stowed away for far too long.  I thought of how Momie would be tickled pink to know that I still had it after all these years and how, now, it was going to be used during such a fun event.  She loved things like this party and would have been so excited to be a part of it....and she is.  With the use of such items, I feel that a lot of folks are smiling and enjoying the fun that is happening in the Little Bayou House!  

The Blue Bowl and Checkered Tablecloth

  Two of my favorite kitchen items are a blue crockery bowl and a blue and white checkered tablecloth.  Neither of these are new.  Neither are expensive.  As matter of fact, the tablecloth is quite tattered and the bowl has several chips.  This does not detract from their charm, though, and, as I said before, they are favorites.  Years ago, Mark's grandmother gave the bowl to me.  She knew I loved to cook and that my kitchen was filled with antiques.  I use these old but useful utensils on a daily basis.  Momie (his grandma) was staying with us for a few days when she sent Mark back to her place for the bowl.  "I know you will take care of my bowl for me and love it like I do." she told me as she handed the prize to me.  She knew that the words were true.  I do love it and do take special care of "Momie's Bowl".  The lady was dear to me as we shared many of happy times together.  The bowl represents those times and I am quite honored that she chose me as caretaker of the crockery piece.  She knew...she just knew.

  The tablecloth has just as much meaning as the bowl.  It, too, came as a gift but in a much different way.  Down the road from our place, lived two sweet, little old ladies.  Their names were name Eura and Vera but everybody in the neighborhood called them "Miss Twin".  (This kept us all from having to distinguish between the two identical ladies!)  Anyway, both Miss Twins were the "givingness" ladies in town.  If you stopped in to see them, you always left with something in your hands.  Most of the time, you arms were loaded!  One time, I pulled into their driveway with a few crabs from the Bayou.  The ladies were so happy to see those crabs that they immediately hunted for something to "exchange" for them.  One grabbed a batch of fresh-baked, homemade biscuits and the other grabbed the blue and white tablecloth.  The biscuits were tied up in a bundle using that tablecloth!  Wow!  I sure came out far ahead in that deal! All the way home, those biscuits tempted me!  Later when I tried to return the cloth, they would not hear of it!  I became the proud owner of a small checkered tablecloth.  Like I mentioned earlier, it is now quite tattered. This merely shows how often I use the thing!  Since my kitchen table is quite large and the cloth is small, I use it to cool cookies or during canning but I do use it almost every day!

  Earlier today as I was drying dishes, I thought about Momie and both Miss Twins. I wondered if they knew that I would find the items so useful even now, some twenty years later. I, also, thought of how unusual it was that both gifts are blue.  According to legends, blue is the color of reliability and trust.  This makes sense on both accounts.  These items, like their previous owners, are/were reliable and trustworthy.  All three ladies were honest til the day's end and then some.  They were loving and giving.  I will cherish both gifts as long as they are in my possession as they represent a love passed between us. These items are not just kitchen utensils, they are family heirlooms!  Funny how doing dishes makes the mind wander.

Love Mends All.

Sometimes I hang on to things just because of sentimentality.  I have very few material things from Mark's grandmother but each item that she gave to me has high value if to only me.  She was not a rich woman according to standards set by today's society but she felt that she had everything.  She did give me far more than just a few trinkets as she gave me love and what riches are better than that?  Momie (the family name for this grand lady!) accepted me into the family in her own style and much before some of the others.  We soon became close friends and shared a many times together.  She taught me a lot.  Two friends..one old Polish lady and one insecure farm girl.  What a misfit pair!

I was meandering about the Little Bayou House today just thinking of Christmases past.  One of the kids' favorite Christmas holidays was when Momie came to stay with us.  She had been in the hospital and needed some extra care once she was released.  With a bit of scrambling and doubling up of kids, we immediately found an "extra" bedroom just for her.  Oh, she protested!  She wanted to be home "Just in case someone came to see her for Christmas."  We were determined and she finally relented.  The kids were jubilant!  They had never had a "Christmas Guest" before and especially not one that they loved more than this lady!  When she came to the house, she brought a small Nativity with her.  The stable was long gone.  All that was left were the three figurines, Mary, Joseph and Baby Jesus.  Now, the story was behind the Baby Jesus.  It seems that years before, the porcelain infant was dropped and broken into tiny shards.  It could not be repaired.   What was she to do?  Mary and Joseph looked so forlorn!  It worried her that Baby Jesus would not be there for Christmas.  She fretted for days as she searched for a baby.  Then on Christmas Eve, mysteriously, a miracle occurred! A friend came bearing gifts and among those was a small packaged wrapped in tissue.  He told her to be careful when unwrapping the tissue.  Can you imagine her surprise when she opened that gift?  It seems that he had found a lone Baby Jesus at the thrift store and thought she might like to have it.  He did not previously know that she had broken hers but something just told him to buy this figurine for her. This Baby Jesus was exactly the same as the broken one! Momie was so happy to have the family together again!  She placed the tiny figurine with Mary and Joseph and all was well in her world.  Her Christmas was complete. When she brought the Nativity Scene to our house, she insisted that she needed to make a suitable place for them.  She and the kids worked together to create what they all deemed to be a thing of beauty.  A shoe box covered in aluminum foil and tinsel was the base.  Plastic poinsettias and greenery were poked in here and there.  A few glass Christmas balls were taped to the sides.  Oh, how beautiful this was!!  And...it was.

The real beauty was not the gaudy setting that Mary, Joseph and Baby Jesus were using as an abode but rather the love that was shared between that old lady and her three great grandchildren.  The new found Baby Jesus seemed to be perfectly happy!  Mary and Joseph looked adoringly at their new child just as Momie and the children looked lovingly at their creation. This is just as Jesus looks lovingly at us..each of us. The shoe box creation is long gone.  Time took its toll on the thing just like it took its toll on Momie.  When she passed, I asked for the Nativity Scene.  Those three little figures mean so much to me.  That, my friends, is Christmas.  Not the porcelain items themselves but rather the incredible story behind the replaced Baby Jesus, the friend that cared enough to visit an old lady, the love shared between a very ill great-grandmother and three small children and the cherished memories that all of this generated.  Yep, THAT is Christmas, my friends, that is Christmas.  Love..love is Christmas no matter how you look at it.

Thinking of "Momie".....

Every now and again, a person just has to have a most relaxing day..a day where you enjoy what you do when you do it..a day with no rush, no stress and no turmoil..a day spent with family and good friends.  I had that day.  I must admit the morning started with a bit of a rush as I leapt out of bed and rushed to pull on jeans and a flannel shirt.  I knew there would be a gorgeous sunrise this morning and I wanted to have a front row seat!  Overnight there were lots of clouds and a slight rain which in turn usually means the reds and oranges of dawn would be vibrant.  I was not disappointed!

The pier was a mite wet and cold but that could not dampen my enthusiasm for the day.  As I sat there staring out over the water, a gentle memory pushed its way into my mind.  Mark's grandmother (we called her Momie) and I used to talk everyday.  If I did not go to visit her then our conversations were over the telephone.  We never missed a day during the entire time that I knew her.  During these conversations, we discussed just about everything under the sun but somewhere during that conversation she would invariably mention how she was thankful for another day.  The lady was in her eighties when I met her and we kept this routine until she passed in her mid nineties.  In all of those hundreds and hundreds of conversations...never once did she miss being thankful for the day.  When she stayed with us for a spell after being ill, I was impressed with her morning routine of thanking God for allowing her to wake to the beautiful morning. To her it did not matter if the day was rainy or sunny, hot or cold...she was thankful for the day.

My sunrise vigil was the start of a wonderful day as I kept thinking of Momie and her wise words.  I miss this dear lady but somehow feel she was with me this morning.  Maybe...just maybe...she was there with me watching the sunrise and whispering how thankful she was for the day!  I am thankful for the chance to view the sunrise and the start of a new day...and for a most relaxing day!