Broom-making?

  Something that never occurred to me is to eat what grows in the marsh.  For one thing, I have never taken a notion that I should fend off the alligators and cottonmouths simply to gather some (otherwise known as) weed.  But...here I am finding out that woolgrass is edible.  For those who don't know, woolgrass is that lovely thing that has large brown seed fronds growing out the top.)  I have always found it interesting but never thought of it as a food source.  For me, not everything deemed edible should be placed on the dinner table.  But...the discovery did make me do a bit of research on the plant and other uses seem to be a bit more fitting.  

  Woolgrass is quite commonly used in basket weaving and broom-making!  Alrighty then!  That seems to be a better fit for the plant.  Now, if I ever get a whim to weave a basket or make a broom, I know just where to go...out in that critter infested marsh.  Actually, since I have not been able to do the yardwork that I have been doing in the past, the woolgrass has spread up the hill a bit which would allow for a much easier harvesting.  To be totally honest, that broom-making is tempting...perhaps not as a utilitarian tool but as a decorative item.  Handmade brooms are expensive!  A good handmade broom can go from around $30 for a whisk broom to a couple of hundred for a floor broom!  Umm...yeah.  If I spend that much on a broom, it will be for display only and would never be seen sweeping the floors of the Little Bayou House.

  Finding the woolgrass in the yard versus the marsh has really made me start thinking that the "natural", untouched state of some of the yard, is not a bad thing.   A lot of plants, that were normally cut by the mower, seem to either have lovely or interesting blooms or lots of household uses.  Yes, food and herbal medicines come to mind but brooms?  Right now, that seems far more intriguing!  

Somewhere Beyond the Garden Gate

   Gardens are one of few places where you can find yourself while losing yourself.  It is hard to understand that if you are only exposed to well manicured lawns and overly neat flower beds.  I have neither of those.  It is my habit of letting things grow where they may and letting them spill over to greet the other plants as they please.  Parsley visits the basil while mingling with the wild purslane.  Tomatoes have made friends with petunias and zinnias all the while shaking hands with the jasmine vines.  Squash shade the bell peppers who have a tendency to hug the garlic.  It is this way throughout the yard.  Pathways lead you everywhere...yet nowhere.  You get lost among the towering plants that are blooming with birds, bees, lizards and butterflies.  Then...you find yourself.  

 

   I meandered through the lemon trees and around the crape myrtle on my way to the vegetable plot.  The gate was almost hidden by the 6 foot tall lemon grass, the turmeric and four-o-clocks.  A slight haze had settled in over the grape vines and fig trees making the whole place look mystical.   I gathered a few tomatoes, squash and cucumbers along with a handful of herbs, I was enthralled by the way the first rays of sunlight were filtering through the branches of the old oak trees.  The entire garden was dappled with bits of glimmering hope.  Then a thought...perhaps my garden is the way the world is actually meant to be...a bit disheveled...a little bit wild and woolly...yet filled with a whole lot of love, hope and peace.  Magic grows here among the plants and critters...the magic of tranquility.

  

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.

The Bayou Orchid

  Back in March, Mark came home from the lumberyard with an orchid plant.  He had no idea exactly what it was and I had no idea how to care for it.  From what I had heard, orchids were some of those fickle plants that needed to be treated with "kid-gloves".  My idea was that they were not "Bayou" enough to ever call the place home but now one was here.  I had good intentions of learning the "art of orchid growing" but, instead, I plopped the plant on the herb tower and promptly forgot to do any research.  The plant was pretty much on its own.  It got watered when the herbs were watered and fed when they were fed.  It stayed in full shade between the basil plants.  Every time I passed the poor thing, I thought of how I really should figure out how to tend its needs.  I never did.  When the plant arrived here, it had four or five blooms on a towering stalk held up by a tiny (6 inch) trellis.  It was in a small pot that was inserted into a ceramic bowl that had no drainage.  The bowl was removed, the plant was plopped into a larger pot with mulch.  That was it.  That was as far as I got.

  Now, five months later, the orchid is still blooming.  It has never stopped.  When one flower withers, it is replaced with another.  The plant seems to have adapted well to its surroundings regardless of the lack of attention.  Several times, I offered the plant to Darling Daughter thinking it would receive so much better care with her.  She always declines saying "You are doing amazing with it, Mom!"  Nope...the plant is doing amazing on its own...I am doing nothing...and the orchid blooms...and blooms.  Regardless of the neglect.  I suppose it truly is a Bayou Orchid now.

Losing the Garden Path but Finding Paradise

   Lately, with the yard cleanup taking place mainly in the back part of the property, the Small Gardens have run amok with new growth.  I have had neither the time nor the energy to do even minor maintenance there. The Small Gardens now greatly resemble some wild and woolly rainforest!  Not that I mind as the prior work put into this area has proven to be worth the effort.  It gives a sense of serenity to wander through the overgrown tropical plants even in their unkempt state.

  

This morning, I took the time to transplant twenty hibiscus shrubs from their tiny six-inch seed pots into the border gardens before heading to the back cleanup.  As I was digging holes for the seedlings, the sun was just peeping over the pines on the opposite side of the Bayou.  As the rays started shooting down one of the garden paths, I was fully in awe of how secluded the area seemed.  The lush, healthy overgrowth nearly made the path unpassable.  Each nook and cranny held a different bloom or fruit.  Taking a few minutes from the task at hand, I breathed the sweet aromas of flowers and early morning freshness.  I listened as the birds chirped happily as they feasted upon the remnant blueberries and a few remaining figs.  I felt the morning dew and the cool breeze coming from the Bay.  I thought (and relished the thought) of how this was paradise.  This was how life should be.  This is what takes me from the stress of dealing with people's greed and drama to being perfectly blissful.  This is the magic of the Small Gardens.  This is where I belong...where I find tranquility.

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!

  

Sluggish Wasps!

  It is not often that I have to think of a warm spot for the potted plants this early.  Usually, the "prepare for pets, plants, pipes and people" warning start springing up on the weather report during late November.  Being this far south does give us a little time to prepare for things.  But, the beginning of this week saw those warnings being flipped around so I decided that the night blooming cereus plants needed some protection then one thing led to another and I wound up putting all of the plants into the greenhouse.  I figure that I may as well go ahead and just do it.  The chore is not one I relish.  Some of the plants are huge and moving them is rather arduous.  I literally had to "bearhug" those things!   But the chore is done and, for the next few months, the plants will live in the greenhouse...like it or not!  The morning that I did this was quite chilly which turned out to be a blessing in disguise!

  After I shoved the last plant into its spot, I felt a gentle bump a on my face.  Thinking that a leaf or something might have fallen, I brushed it off and thought no more about it.  Then...another!  Uh, oh!  I know quite well what was giving me those "warning bumps".  Wasps!  Sure enough, there were a dozen or so wasps flying about the greenhouse. Did I unknowingly lug a wasp nest into the greenhouse with the plants?  I had noticed dozens of treefrogs and lizards but wasps?  

  Sure enough, there was a nice sized wasp nest up under one of the leaves of the rubber tree plant.  I had bearhugged that sucker all the way into the greenhouse without a sting!  The cool morning air had the wasps sluggish but, once inside, they began to warm up and not appreciate the rough move.  Needless to say, I vacated the greenhouse and left the door open.  Later, the critters were gone and I was able to find and dispose of the nest.  Whew!  It sure made me thankful for the cool weather!

Plants Have A Lot To Say

   Currently, the Small Gardens are overgrown, weedy and seemingly happy.  Each morning brings a new surprise in the way of blooms, fruit or vegetables.  It just goes to show that once we stop dumping chemicals, do not overcut and simply let plants do their own thing, they provide.  Plants are resilient...too bad we are not the same.  

  This morning found some lovely phlox in bloom.  These plants came from two different people.  Pop gave me the first start and I have managed to keep them at least surviving for some 35 years.  Yep, the plants keep coming back year after year from the rootstock.  The newer phlox came from my sweet Grand Princess, Mary Ruth when she was just a tot.  Actually, she brought them to "Uncle Michael" (also known as Son on the blog).  She just "had" to bring him some purple flowers!  He loves them merely for that fact. 

  In a way, the phlox are the perfect gift.  Phlox are said to represent "united hearts and souls".  I was very close to Pop and miss him terribly.  He was the one who taught me the love of gardening and plants, in general.  I am also quite certain Son and Mary Ruth will always maintain a special relationship even though they are so very far apart.  The phlox are fitting and so lovely to find as one wanders through the yard.  That is part of the Magic of the Small Gardens!

Super Tall Ferns!

   I am always pondering what plants I can get for free as free is always good!  Let me wander back into the creek and my whole vision is nothing but how I can use the plants in the yard.  This usually finds me heading back the next day with a shovel and wheelbarrow to dig up anything interesting.  I am a firm believer that you should always leave some healthy plants behind as to not deplete the beauty of that area just to transfer it elsewhere.  This comes from my herbal use and is called wildcrafting.  You never take all.

  Yesterday, I wandered to the creek and found ferns!  Huge ferns!  Almost as tall as me ferns!  So, a bit of research was done today to see if these would do well if transplanted.  The ferns in question are Cinnamon Ferns or Osmunda cinnamomea.  They get their common name because of the cinnamon colored spore bearing fronds.  These ferns have always intrigued me just because they get so huge (up to six feet tall!).  In my study, it became apparent that, like most ferns, Cinnamon Ferns need a lot of water.  Well, that can be arranged!  A large pot set in the Frog Pond would suffice.  As soon as I feel well enough or as soon as Son has a free day, I do think it is time for a Cinnamon Fern to move up the hill a bit.

Fairy Footprints!

   I always knew there was something highly magical about the Bayou and the surrounding area.  Things just seem different here which means that I fit in perfectly.  Those who wish to be kind call me a bit "offbeat" or unique but those who put it bluntly just call me weird.  I am ok with whatever label folks wish to slap on me as long as they leave me be.  I am perfectly happy being among my critter friends without interference from the turmoil of society.  The magic here is soul-soothing and happy.

  While out on my early morning hike, I was mesmerized by the kaleidoscope of colors presented by the rising sun.  As usual, my hike started by a walk to the pier then around the shoreline to the back of the property near the canebrake.  The colors of the sky kept changing with each step I took.  At this time of year, I am at ease looking up but, soon, my gaze will be where I step.  Warmer weather will bring out the cottonmouths making the "horizon-gazing" limited.  I am mighty happy that at one point, I did sit on a log for a bit as that led me to spy the fairy Footprints!

  Fairy Footprints, Innocence or Roundleaf Bluet is a low-growing groundcover type plant that usually pops up where you least expect it.  The plant itself goes unnoticed until the bright white, four-petal blooms appear.  Then, even though very tiny, the plant demands attention!  It is hard not to lovingly admire the sweet blooms.  This is one plant that would be difficult to find in the local nursery as there is not much demand for such tiny plants.  This morning's plant was perhaps only an inch in height.  What it lacked in stature, however, it made up for with beauty.  Things like this are what make the Bayou magical.  Maybe not finding the plant but being able to purely delight in its beauty....undisturbed.

Hunting for Bright Spots

   It has been a sort of mopey week for me.  Mark has been sick with a particularly rough cold, the week started with nasty weather and the grandkids were not able to be here for Christmas yet again.  Today, the decorations came down and are stowed away for another year.  This is so unlike me as I usually love the holidays and all the trappings that go along with them.  But....it is done.  Things around the Little Bayou House look "back to normal" and I can now go about my days without fretting over lights going out on the tree or pine cones bouncing off the stairway garland.  

  Slipping out the back door, I eased my way around to the Frog Pond.  The citrus trees are almost bare of their fruit now and the leaves have dropped from the peach and plum trees.  Well, this looks a mite drab! I was thinking I should just head back indoors but, then, I spied the small white blooms of the Paperwhite Narcissus.  Each and every time I see the plants in bloom, I think of Mom. She loved the blooms and would often pick a nice bouquet for the table.  While I think they are pretty, I prefer to leave them outdoors.  Mom loved the scent.  I find it....umm....well, not to my liking.   

  Not only did Mom like the blooms for their scent, she claimed that they were a sign that winter would not last forever.  I suppose?  But, to be honest, I really would like some "winter".  When it is Christmas week and the ACs are running full blast, it makes me wonder if the Paperwhites are a wee bit confused.  

  Finding the Paperwhites in bloom did lift my spirits even if only for a few moments.  They brought a flood of happy memories of my childhood and being with Mom.  Goodness, I miss those days.  Life was so much easier.  

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!

A Pretty Problem

   A while back, someone obviously dumped a bunch of pond plants into the Bay.  While this may not seem to be a big deal, it is since most of the plants used in ornamental ponds are not native to the area.  When you put them in an environment that is perfect for growing...they grow...and grow.  The Bay is a lot larger than any tiny pond, so the plants simply multiply to great ends.  This creates problems as now the native plants are squeezed out of their territory and many of the critters that depend on those plants have to either leave or die.   The plants also clog waterways such as the Bayou making navigation by small boats virtually impossible.

  When I discovered a bunch of water hyacinths near the pier, I was quick to fish them out of the water.  All but two were destroyed by composting.  Two went into the little Frog Pond where I could keep track of the plants.  Water hyacinths are an invasive species that are rapid growers and can reproduce like crazy. In fact, they are the fastest multiplying water plants on earth!  Go figure.  

  Those two plants in the little pond did well and by the year's end had multiplied enough to totally fill the pond.  Come next spring (and every spring since), I fished the plants out, returned two and composted the rest.  Hundreds upon hundreds of hyacinths filled the compost pile!  While most others are attracted to the beautiful blooms, I grow them for the composting.  These things make the best fertilizer for the gardens!

  Today, the hyacinths are in full bloom and the pond is a gorgeous mess of purple!  My second cleaning of the pond will be in a couple of weeks since the pond is clogged and most of the frogs are not happy.  The compost pile will be filled again and soon the garden plants WILL be happy!  Folks, don't dump your unwanted plants and critters.  They do, indeed, cause problems for the environment.  Be careful!

Trying their best

  Things have been busy, that is for sure.  So busy, in fact, that I have neglected several things that needed attention.  One of those things has decided to take matters in its own hands or stalks or roots or whatever.  Back when we were clearing hurricane debris, the fallen trees were cut for firewood.  Thinking that we may have a winter this past year, I carefully stacked the wood on the log rack.  Since there was no other place to set up the rack, I opted for the garden along the fence.  The idea was to use up the firewood so the four-o'clock tubers beneath it would be cleared in time for their appearance come spring.  No winter = no fires.  The wood sat and, being old, I forgot about the plants snoozing underground.  

  Spring came and I became busy with gardens, clearing and grinding more debris mulch and home-canning.  By the time I realized that my four-o'clocks were sending up shoots, it was too late to do much but hope for the best.  The plants had already entwined themselves through the wood rack.  Moving the rack was not an option at this point.  The plants were now sandwiched between the stacked firewood, the garden fence and the two foot tall broccoli plants.  They would just have to do the best they could. 

  Plants are resilient, for sure.  Surprisingly, the four-o'clocks are blooming beautifully each night.  Their sweet scent can be enjoyed even though they had to squeeze themselves through an obstacle course of stuff.  I have decided to let them be.  Hopefully, the woodpile will be depleted this next winter (if we get one) and I can make amends to the plants.  Perhaps I should apologize to them for my oversight.

"Throwback Lilies"

   It is always nice to walk smack into a surprise!  A couple of weeks ago, I pulled all of the plants out of the greenhouse, started repotting some of them but simply got overwhelmed and left the rest to fend for themselves for a bit.  Good intentions...and all that.  Well, today, I found that plants can get along quite well without my help.  I decided it was time to start the repotting task again.  The amaryllis bulbs (that were hastily potted last year when gardens were smashed by hurricanes) were in full bloom!  What a happy surprise!

  Although Pop raised the prettiest amaryllises, these bulbs were actually given to me by Mom's cousin.  I went to help her weed her gardens one year and she had me dig some of the bulbs to bring home.  She called them "Throwback Lilies".  "Just throw them out back and they will do fine."  I guess they are living up to their name!  Throwback Lilies!  

  Some of the common names of plants are amusing and the one tacked to the amaryllis will probably stick with me for the rest of my life.  The plants and the funny stories bring back happy memories of time spent with people from my past.  Hopefully, whimsical stories about me will be passed along by youngsters that spend time here on the Bayou.  I sure don't want to be remembered as a stodgy old woman!

Little White Violet

   Before the rains set in for the next few days, I rose early to do outside chores.  It was just after daybreak that you could find me in the gardens.  It was a morning of rushing around preparing everything for the torrential downpours and strong winds that were predicted to slam us.  The Bayou sees all sorts of weather but, here lately, it seems we are getting more than our share of wind.  This system has us all on alert for the possibility of tornadoes.  Still, gardens do not wait on weather nor laziness.  So, chores were hurriedly done in hopes for the best.

  At one point, my tasks took me to the citrus trees.  It was there that I found my tiny bright spot of the morning.  Underneath one of the satsuma trees was a wee white violet!  Oh, my!  I had to fall upon my knees to cherish this moment as it is not often that I come across the white violets.  Mom always used to love these tiny flowers and often told how they were "rare" finds.  I am not sure if that is even a thing but it is "rare" that I find them here on the Bayou.

  After photographing the bloom (which was difficult because the rains had started), I gently touched the petals and thanked the little plant for bringing such happiness and many memories.  It does not take much, folks.  Happiness can, indeed, be found in the little things.

My Favorite!

   Hurricane Zeta did a number on all of my plants.  The vegetable garden fared the best as the cabbages were still tiny but all of the flowering plants took a beating.  I started to move many into the greenhouse but, since the storm ravaged it, the plants still would not have been safe.  Two plants that were smashed were the Christmas Cacti.  I fretted over the fact that they were ruined but, with the work ahead of us, I immediately forgot about them.  Now, I find that the smashed plants are blooming!  I was amazed!  The pale pink one was sitting in the entryway window when I first noticed it.  The sun was pouring through the window and illuminating the blooms!  What a sight!  So, of course I had to photograph the plant.

  The pictures turned out far better than I had hoped.  Since the room is painted a very, very dark color (almost black), the blooms almost appear to be glowing.  This is probably my favorite photography "trick"...dark background and brilliant natural light spilling onto the subject.  The effect creates a striking photograph.  Of course, this is one of those "right place at the right time" moments and I do not get them often.  When I do, I have a tendency to take far too many pictures.  I will stay until the light fades which is usually only a couple of minutes.  In those few minutes, however, I will take forty or more shots of my subject. 

  The Christmas Cactus did its part to bring a smile so I hope the photograph will as well.  This was my favorite of the bunch.  Enjoy!

Morning Friend

  Early this morning, I had to wait a few minutes for Mark to join me for our daily fishing on the pier.  While he was putting on his shoes, I decided to sit on the front steps.  The arbor surrounding the french doors is the perfect place to grow shade loving plants so either side of the steps is a regular rainforest of plants.  On one side there is a large turmeric plant, several philodendrons and a couple of ferns.  On the other is a gigantic split leaf philodendron, some hostas and a couple of unknown plants that seem to love shade.  All of this greenery flanks the steps and is topped by several hanging ferns.  Sitting on the steps made me feel like I was sitting in the local nursery!

  Being as it was still early morning,  I had not checked out the yard.  Any critters that had come in from the marshes or out of the woods could very well be lingering about the place.  Suddenly, I had that eerie feeling that I was being watched.  Hmm, something had been drinking water from the Puddle Pond.  In fact, it was nigh on dry each morning.  We figured the family of deer were seeking fresh water since the area has been in a bit of a drought, as of late.  Maybe a couple still were hanging close?

  Sitting quietly, I scanned the area.  Nope, did not see a thing.  Still, the feeling of being watched was heavy.  Ok, so nothing was out in the gardens, it was time to look closer.  A small cottonmouth was under those very same steps about a week ago.  The darkness was not helping with my search but, soon, the peeping tom was found!  Right at my elbow was a tiny tree frog!  That big, ole, split leaf philodendron was the chosen spot for the frog's daytime resting.  I just happened to plop myself down right next to froggy!  Its, ok, Froggy!  You are welcome to live among the plants as you do a fine job of keeping them bug-free!  We are good.

"Hippie Gardening"

  "Hippie Gardening"!  I had never heard that phrase until a good friend used it to describe a method of gardening he had come across during a shopping expedition.  Perhaps he knew it long before but he mentioned it when telling of the vegetables and fruits at a market.  Hippie Gardening was the words he used to describe the habit of using co-planting or at least that was the way I understood it.  Co-planting or companion planting is a nifty idea  about planting flowers or other aromatic plants in the vegetable garden to cut down on pests.  This goes on to knowing which plants do well as neighbors or which do better far away from the others.  The idea of planting flowers such as marigolds and nasturtiums around vegetables that are attacked by bugs is an old one that many folks had forgotten.  In recent years, there has been a huge resurgence of planting "old-style" and that is a good thing.  "Back in the day", folks did not use insecticides or chemical fertilizers so companion planting was a method that came in handy.  Knowing which plants would tolerate being next-door neighbors and which preferred to be off by themselves was a necessity.  Another long-forgotten bit of good farming was crop rotation.  To keep the ground from becoming depleted of certain nutrients, crops were never planted in the same spot year after year.  Crops were rotated to assure that nutrients were replenished before replanting.  For instance, Pop would never plant peas in the same field year after year.  The pea rows were alternated with other crops and after harvesting, the dead stalks were plowed into the soil to replenish the used nitrogen.  Plowing old plants of any kind into the soil added organic matter and kept the garden soil from becoming too hard.  Methods such as these can go a long way in having a healthy garden.

  At first, I giggled at the term "Hippie Gardening" but then I realized that I was snickering at myself.  I do companion planting.  My gardens are filled with vegetables, flowers and herbs.  The tomatoes are grounded by marigolds, the bell peppers are best friends with the basil plants and the cucumbers were in love with the nasturtiums!   Not only are there flowers in the vegetable plots, there are vegetables stuck in the flower beds!  The whole garden space is one mishmash of plants...but they are happy plants.  

  I never thought of this as any certain "type" of gardening, I just followed along with what Pop taught me as a kid back on the farm.  It worked then...it works now.  It is all a matter of knowing which plants can coexist and which are detrimental to the others.  Getting back to some of the old ways is not all bad no matter what it is called.  Co-planting, Hippie Gardening, Commonsense....whatever works.

Night Scents

  I have always been one who is fascinated by the night.  Darkness hides so many things.  I am much more cautious these days as I am getting older but during my younger years,  a good hike about the place in the middle of the night was invigorating.  In fact, the kids and I would often venture out after midnight to traipse about the place.  A foggy night was even more enticing.  We would hike down the lane then make a sharp right and head down through the woods to the creek bed.  From there, our meandering would bring us back up behind the chicken house and around by the canebrake.  The hikes were never long but were enjoyable.  Things look so much different, sound different and even smell different than they do during the daytime hours.  Hikes with the kids were nigh on thirty years ago but they still talk about our times.  I miss those times.  My hikes now are generally limited to early morning treks around the hillside and the marsh edge and are never at night.  I miss the suspense of what is around the next corner and the intrigue of how much more alert the senses become at night when you cannot fully depend on the eyesight.  

  At daybreak, I headed out into the garden and was immediately engulfed in the sweetest aroma.  The Four O'clock plants were in full bloom!  These bloom late in the evening and then close during the early morning.  While the plants come with a variety of colored blooms, mine have all mixed together over the years to become hot pink.  This is the hazard of saving seeds year after year.  The plants cross pollinate and soon you wind up with only one color.  It is fine by me as long as they still smell so delightful! 

  Finding the blooms this morning has made me realize just how much I am missing by not doing the nightly hikes.  If ever my kids come back to the Little Bayou House, perhaps I can convince them to take just one midnight hike...just for old time's sake...just for old Mom's sake. Maybe?  Perhaps I should just open the windows tonight and be happy with that.