My "Step" Plant

  The spring has been quite rainy.   We get thunderstorms nigh on every evening which is fine by me because I sleep well during storms.  I figure that my chores for the next day are easier as I do not have to drag the water hose around the gardens to give the plants a drink.  Those clouds do a fine job...better than what I can do.  Besides, there is something soothing about rain on the rooftop and wind that rattles the windows just a wee bit. So, I sleep...soundly and peacefully.  The other night, however, it was particularly rainy, rather windy and lightning was putting on a fantastic show through the south windows I had just settled in with the cat snuggling near me when I heard an odd thud.  Hmm...wonder what that was?  I sat up and strained to hear over the raindrops pelting the roof.  I heard nothing more and almost started to think I imagined the noise.  I looked at Bat, the cat. He stirred a bit then snuggled a little closer.  He did not seem concerned so all must be well.  Bat is pretty good at keeping me informed about what should be investigated and, obviously, a thud was not a threat.  The cat snuggled, the storm raged and I slept.  All was well in the Little Bayou House.

  I was busy canning plums the next morning so did not get to find my "thud".  It was not until two days later, that I discovered the source of the sound.  The wind had knocked down one of the hanging potted plants next to the French doors. The arbor surrounding these doors has a great structure that allows for hanging plants to be draped everywhere!  Well, the wind must have not appreciated the decor because one of the arrowhead plant was now a "step" plant and not a hanging one.  The small chains were broken causing the plant to plop right down on the step.  It looked quite at home there, so  it will stay.  My "step" plant is doing nicely...in fact, it looks much healthier since it fell.  This makes me wonder if perhaps the other five should come tumbling down!

Praises for Rain!

   After weeks of no rain, I was beginning to fret a bit about the garden.  You can only water so much before it becomes pointless.  I was at the point of letting things be and hoping for the best.  Last night, however, that all changed as we had a good old-fashioned thunderstorm that lasted for hours.  All in all, three inches of rain poured from the sky and soaked the gardens thoroughly.  I slept well.

  This morning, I wandered through the Small Gardens in awe.  The once near drought-stricken plants had been revived and with each step, I was astounded at the beauty.   It is amazing how just a bit of rainwater can pump new life in something nigh on dead.  Blooms were bursting forth on just about every plant, the birds were happily singing and myriads of frogs and toads were trilling in the little ponds.  The gardens were alive again.

Just say "Please!"

  Usually, when the morning breaks with odd clouds, you are looking at some pretty quirky weather.  Yesterday morning, I was on the pier far before daybreak.  This is my peaceful time before the hectic pace of the day starts.  A very slight breeze made the morning air feel just about as perfect as it could get.  Overhead, clouds.  Lovely, lovely clouds.  I was in hopes those clouds would linger around a bit and then dump some rain on us as we have been quite dry lately.  Plants do far better with Mother Nature watering them than with me dragging the hose about the gardens.  I sat and contemplated the clouds.  Please rain!  Please rain.

  For the past week, I have been grubbling through a huge mess of rotted boards.  It amazes me how things get all stacked up and never thought of again.  The boards were stacked with good intentions of being used but you know what they say about those good intentions.  So, after leaving the pier, my chores began again but I kept thinking about those clouds!  For several hours, I dragged out boards and cleared the space.  About midmorning, a threatening thunderhead loomed to our north.  Please!  Within ten minutes, drops were starting to fall and I figured it was time to head inside.  Just as I got to the door, the bottom fell out and we got the most glorious rain!  Almost a full inch fell!  Then a thought...maybe if you beg those clouds enough they take pity on you!

Late Summer Beauty

   The entire spring and first part of summer was extremely rainy.  It rained so much that our hill was even starting to get a bit mushy which is strange since the water runs right off into the Bayou or Bay.   Still, the gardens had standing puddles and that rotted the plants at the roots.  Most of the summer garden was a bust.  I got enough tomatoes to restock our supply of jars of sauce and catsup so all is well.  We can stretch the pickles for another year since the cucumbers succumbed to the root rot.  Regardless, those months were good since the rain kept it a bit cooler.  Then came SUMMER!  I knew the weather was going to take a swing in the other direction and made preparations by not planting a late garden.  Watering it would have just been too much.  So now the veggie patch sits empty.

  Still, other plants are doing well regardless of the dryness.  Most "in-ground" plants can adapt, especially trees.  Their roots are deep enough that it takes an endless drought to do damage.  Their adaptability was shown this morning.  We had a good soaking rain yesterday evening complete with lots of lightning.  It was that rain that did the world of good for the trees.  This morning, I found where the pear trees were trying to bloom again!  One rain and out popped blossoms.  I have come to expect this as it happens almost every fall.  Not much will come of the blossoms as their season is over but that does not keep the trees from trying.  If nothing else, the trees add a bit of beauty to a yard where other flowers are starting to wane.

Never Know What To Expect

   Weather is one of those crazy things that can never make up its mind what it wants to be.  Weather..."Hmm, do I want to be sunny, partly cloudy or rainy?  And if rainy, should I storm or merely sprinkle?  Cold or hot?  Foggy?"  The imaginary conversation could go on for hours except, here, the weather changes its mind in a matter of minutes.  I never know what to expect lately.

  I was out dead-heading the zinnias when I heard a rumble to the east.  Wait a minute!  It is sunny!  Not toward the east.  I slipped to the pier to get a good view of what was headed our way.  Yep, old Fickle Weather was up to his tricks again.  

  On the northeast horizon a storm cloud was looming over the Bayou.  The southeast had poofy white clouds and the southwest was pretty much sunny and clear.  Boom!  A big bolt of lightning shot across the  dark cloud.  Ok, that was enough for me.  I have more sense than to stay on the pier during a lightning storm!  It was time to head back to the Little Bayou House and safety.

If Crape Myrtles Can Do It, So Can I!

   I find it rather uplifting to know that a simple  stroll through the gardens can be healing.  Yes, the fresh air and exercise go a long way in making the body well but just being outdoors in a peaceful spot can heal the mind and spirit.  Today was not good.  It was not bad but still not good.  I felt lousy from the get-go but still felt as if I had chores to be done.  I have never been one to just be idle.  Lounging about the place actually makes me feel worse so I struggled to find the energy to tackle a few tasks.  Not only was my body lagging, my brain was awhirl with worries about family members.  It seems that the old Morton Salt advertisement holds true.  " When it rains, it pours." I figured that  perhaps doing something would take the mind off of many things.  

  Along about midday, thunder started grumbling just north of us.  I turned to see huge black clouds bearing down on the Bayou and figured I had best get myself back indoors.  Just as I reached for the back screen door, a flash of pink caught my eye.  Well, storm or not, I had to stop for a photo!  The crape myrtles were blooming again!  Those crazy bushes had already bloomed once this summer but were now popping out with all sorts of buds!  The hot pink frilly clusters were waving like banners with the hefty storm breezes.  "Look at us!  Don't go inside!  Look at us!"  I did.  I braved the lightning just to see something that I have seen a thousand times over.  By the time I started taking the photograph, a slight drizzle started falling.  

  Seeing the renewed buds along side of the spent seed pods gave me an odd feeling of renewal.  Regardless of my current condition, there is new hope on the horizon.  Somewhere out there with those storm clouds is my "get up and go' and my peace of mind.  The crape myrtles told me so.  

Things Can Quickly Change

  Mark and I have been starting our days by fishing.  Each morning before daybreak, we head to the pier to cast a line and also enjoy the sunrise.   Recently, the sunrises have been phenomenal due to the heavy cloud cover.  We sit back and enjoy a perfect start to our day.  The other morning, the sky was incredible.  Deep, rich colors dominated the entire sky and not just the horizon.  Brilliant reds ruled!  That, in itself, should have been fair warning but we failed to heed it.  We were intent on our fishing and not much else mattered. That inattentiveness could have been bad news for the two of us.  

  Along about 8am, we decided to call it quits and started reeling in our poles.  Clearing up the fishing gear, I turned to the north and noticed some heavy clouds overhead.   "Hey, we better hurry!"  No sooner had the words left my mouth than a loud crackling sound whizzed by our heads and the loudest clap of thunder I have ever heard followed instantly.  ZAP!   A bolt of lightning had struck less than a hundred feet from us!  Uh, oh!  Not good!  It is not the brightest idea to be on the open pier in the middle of an intense thunderstorm!  We both scampered up the hillside and into the Little Bayou House!  Never have two old folks run so fast!  Once inside, he and I collapsed in a fit of laughter!  The safety of the Little Bayou House once again surrounded us and we were relieved.  What could have been devastating was over!  

  Several years ago, our pier had been struck by lightning and it split one of the tall posts asunder.  Three foot long splinters of the post littered the pier and water.  Just think!  That could have been my head!  Yep,  lesson was learned.  Stay off the pier during storms and, if you are there, be alert to your surroundings!  The weather can go downhill really fast and, with no warning, can deal some mighty heavy blows!  Thankfully, I still have my head!
 

Its Best To Be Alert!

  One sure thing about living on a bayou, you can depend on the weather changing at the drop of a hat.  Without notice, things can go from sunshiny to dreary, from slick calm to raging winds, from peaceful to threatening.  Just this afternoon, the weather did a flip-flop.  Early in the day, the sun was shining and a cool breeze wafted across the water.  Things were most perfect.  It seemed to be an ideal day to sit on the pier with fishing pole in hand so that is just what I did.  All was well with the world or, at least, with my little world.  Then things changed.  Within a matter of minutes, the weather went downhill  to the point that I thought it might be in my best interest to get up to the Little Bayou House!

  Before I could reel in the lines and "clean up" the pier a bit, an ominous black cloud made up across the Bay.  As I hurried to gather up my belongings, I kept a weather eye on that horizon.  Things looked a bit too threatening.  I just "felt" that a waterspout would be in the making.  Sure enough, as that black cloud moved eastward, a spout did form right in the middle.  No sirens, no alarms...just rough weather.  

  After I eased my way back up the pier, I could hear thunder in the distance and feel the cool air that the rain would bring but...it never came.  The whole system moved to the east and left the area before more than a sprinkle could find its way to the garden.  A few moments later, and the sunbeams poked through the clouds and I headed fishing once again.  For twenty minutes, it looked as if a storm would pound us, then it was gone leaving nary a trace.  Crazy!

Highlight of the Day!

  In every art class that I ever took (and it has been eons since I have), the instructor always stressed shading and highlighting.  It was drilled into my head that if you wanted a painting to look nice, you needed to use both.  Both techniques would accentuate the one thing that you wanted to feature as the focal point of the picture.  Okey dokey.  I am good with that as far as instructions go but, also as most folks will tell you, I have a hard time following "rules" when it comes to things like that.  My oldest son explained it to me one time as we were watching a line of ants traveling from their food source to their nest.  (This was right after he had joined the military.)  "You see, Mom, I am going to be like these ants. I will follow orders and stay in the straight line.  Ants are so organized."  As we were talking, a single ant came scurrying willy-nilly around the rest.  This ant was making circles and loops.  It was going up blades of grass and then retracing its steps.  We sat and pondered that single ant until he looked at me and said, "That, Mom, is you.  You are the one ant that marches or scurries to the beat of a different drummer. You are always out of step, out of sync and always a little bit weird."  While most mothers might have been a bit miffed, I sat there thinking how right he was!  He nailed it!  

  The weather, of late, pretty much keeps the sky covered in clouds.  It was those clouds that brought back memories of both the art classes and of the conversation with my son.  First, the offbeat side in me found beauty in a dead pine tree.  Not that the thing ranks any better than other trees, it just happens to have a bit of odd appeal to it.  I like that.  Today, the Master Artist was following all the rules of art class when He decided to highlight the old tree.  Set against the dark clouds, the tree would have been difficult to see, much less photograph, but with the help of highlighting and shadows, the tree stood out with flare!  A break in the clouds perfectly outlined the old tree.  This made the beauty of the dead tree even more intense. The tree's one gnarled branch reached out as if it was trying to shoo away the threatening clouds.  (That, in itself, was ironic as it was a similar storm that took out the tree in the first place.  One strong bolt of lightning killed the tree several years ago.)

  While I never learned to follow the rules pertaining to art, I did recognize the method behind the madness.  A simple thing like a break in the clouds did wonders to accentuate the beauty of the old tree.  It goes to prove that while some of us know the way, we do not always follow the same path to get to the end results.  And that is ok. It takes all sorts of folks to make this world an interesting place.  

  

You Can't Outrun It

  With the copious amount of rainfall pounding the Little Bayou House, I have become a bit stir crazy.  Had old Ms. Ez, the Bayou Dog, been still here, I might have braved the weather for a few wet hikes about the hillside but without her protection, it did not seem safe.  Back when she was alive, I could rest assured that if anything had happened to me, she would have alerted folks to my predicament.  Instead of gallivanting about the hillside, I busied myself with housework.  Not fun.  So when the sun poked through the clouds this morning, I just had to head to the gardens.  There I found that all of the rain and no attention had led to things looking a tad like a rain forest.  Everything was overgrown....and soggy.  I pulled out a lot of the overgrown plants and replanted the boxes with seeds sent by my sweet daughter-in-law, Joanna.  Hopefully, there will still be enough days before winter to allow the squash to bear.  I just poked the last seed into the ground when I heard a low rumbling.  Uh, oh!  Better get myself back inside!

  Instead  of going directly to the Little Bayou House, I rushed down to check the old skiff. The pump had stuck and was not working properly. Six inches of water had filled the boat and with more rain on the way, I needed to tend to that problem.  A quick check on the horizon made me a bit uneasy.  Would I get the pump going and still have time to get back to the house?  Better hurry! That rain was coming fast!

  Once the pump kicked in and was doing its thing, I scooted myself back up the board path.  Just as I opened the gate to the Rose Garden, the rains started. In the few steps from the gate to the front door, I was soaked.  When these squalls come across the Bay, there is no outrunning them.  Don't try...you will never make it.  

When the key was found, she was unarmed.....

  Huh?  Yep!  When the key was found, she was unarmed.  Doesn't make much sense, does it?  I did not figure it would to most folks but it made perfect sense to me.  I found the key.  

  Yesterday, we had a thunderstorm that dumped several inches of rain in just a matter of minutes.  As torrential rains have a tendency to do, it washed quite a rut in the ground as the water poured off the rooftop. This occurred on the north side of the house where work had recently been done.  The ground was bare and already soft so when the deluge hit, it merely washed dirt a bit further down the hillside.  It was in this rut that I found the key!  

  The key was once our house key.  Years and years ago, the first Little Bayou House caught fire and burned to the ground.  Nothing was salvageable.  As matter of fact, very little could even be recognized.  We lost everything but, the fact remains, that we still had everything important.  We were safe.  But...that key.  After some thirty-five years, to find the old house key and to actually recognize it is quite amazing.  I stood holding that key when another fragment caught my eye...an arm. Yep, an arm was protruding from the soft sand.  I reached down and gingerly picked up the tiny porcelain piece.  Ahh, I remember that!  Just days before the fire, Mom had given me a box of antique porcelain "pincushion doll torsos".  These tiny figurines were sweet little pieces that were handmade.  Mom told me that they were around a hundred years old at the time she gave them to me. Wow!  She had asked if I could remake the pincushion part for some of them.  I never got the chance.  Today, I found that broken piece and wondered whatever became of the rest of the dolls.  

  I stood holding that tiny arm and an old rusted key and a thousand memories flooded my brain. What if the house had never caught fire? What if I (being very pregnant at the time with my first child) had been in the house when it did ignite?  What if....what if?  Things would have been very different.   

  Son came up behind me as I stood there pondering things.  He noticed the single tear that gently rolled down my cheek and just put his hand on my shoulder.  Nothing was said. Nothing could be said.  I handed him the key...the key to nowhere...and we went to the garden to pick tomatoes.  I am glad things are not different.  I like them just the way they are.

The Storm that Wasn't...

Mark and I made a late evening run to the pier just to check the crab traps.  We have not been able to catch a single crab this summer due to the fact that a family of otters have taken a liking to our bait.  These critters are very adept at getting the bait from the boxes regardless of how tightly we clamp them shut.  Sure enough, no crabs and not a lot of bait remained in the traps.  This calls for some careful rethinking of the construction of the traps.  Mark is determined to make "otter-proof" traps...I hope he succeeds!

While we were on the pier, we heard a bit of grumbling over to the north of us.  Within just minutes some very dark and weird looking clouds appeared over the Little Bayou House! These things were quite ominous and gave us the distinct feeling that perhaps we should head back up that hill!  It is a long hike to the house from the end of our pier and we sure did not want to get caught in some violent storm.  As we headed back up the pier, I dilly-dallied long enough to get a number of pictures.  It is not every day that one sees such eerie clouds!

Mark tried to hurry me along but very patiently waited while I took my pictures.  He knows how I am about anything that looks photo-worthy!   The grumbling grew closer as the clouds overtook us!  It grew increasingly darker with each step we took.  I was positive we were going to be doused but as soon as we reached the board path that takes us to the top of the hill, we could see brightness behind the house.  The clouds were moving very fast to the south and were soon behind us.

Once inside, we listened as the grumbling was well over the Gulf of Mexico.  This particular storm did not drop the copious amount of rain that most of the storm clouds of late have. This one put down nary a drop!  Mark and I need not have worried about rushing up the hillside but you just never know about storms.  Pop always taught us to "respect the weather" and never take it for granted.  He told us never to take chances while out and about.  "The weather is bigger than you are and it will always win."  I suppose he was right but then, at the same time, he taught us to be in awe of the power and beauty in such storms.  This, I suppose, is why storms do not scare me..I am more in awe of them!  Even ones like this..that almost were!

A Tall Tale...or the Benefits of Being Short!

Growing up, I always yearned to be tall.  My sister and I were surrounded by tall brothers.  Each of them towered over us with their six feet plus height.  She and I were always the recipients of some good-natured teasing by these tall, lanky brothers of ours.  We had to take it in stride and turn the tables on them by asking them to "reach" things for us that we could have easily done so with the step stool. "One of you boys will have to put this box on the top shelf..I cannot reach it."  "One of you tall guys will have to clean the top of the refrigerator..I cannot reach it."  "You tall fellows will have to pick persimmons..I cannot reach them."  It was great!  Susan and I learned quickly that our height issues could be a positive thing!  Whew!  Sometimes being short is not all that bad!

About three weeks ago, we had a tremendous thunderstorm roll through the area. It was one of those loud storms that dumped little or no rain. The thunder boomed and the lightning flashed but always at a distance until one "blast" startled us all! Somewhere near something had been struck.  Thank goodness the Little Bayou House had come through unscathed!  After the storm passed, I headed outside to investigate.  I could find nothing that looked any worse for wear so I assumed that the strike had been further away than I thought.  Everything looked fine and I could smell no pine sap which would be a telltale sign that a pine tree had been the victim of the lightning strike.  The incident was soon forgotten and all was well on the Bayou.

Fast forward to today!  I was on the pier enjoying a bit of late afternoon relaxation when I saw an egret flying over the Bayou.  Although there was nothing extraordinary about that, watching it caused me to see something else.  On the other side of the Bayou, the tallest pine tree was burnt to a crisp!  The brown of the needles was in sharp contrast to all of the green leaves of the other trees.  Ahh, now I see what the lightning chose as its target.  I had always heard that lightning strikes tall things more often than things lower to the ground.  Obviously, this must be true.  This lone Loblolly Pine tree stands a good twenty feet taller than the surrounding Live Oaks and Black Gums.

Ok, brothers dear, this just goes to show that sometimes it truly pays to be short!  I have embraced my shortness and it is wonderful!

The Froggy Symphony

Earlier this evening, a thunderstorm rolled in from the Gulf with lots of lightning and some gusty winds. That is the norm this time of summer here in Mississippi. These storms are not wholly unwelcome, they bring the life-giving rain to the garden. Today was a hot one with temps reaching into the high 90's, the beans wilted flat onto the fence and the purple basil crinkled its leaves in tight wads. Then the rains came, filling the rows of plants with the sweet coolness that can only come with nighttime showers. Tomorrow, the garden will be refreshed. The leaves will be reaching for the sky once again.

After nearly an hour of window-rattling thunder, all is still. It is far from quiet though. The tree frogs are still calling for more rain, a lone bullfrog is croaking in the creek and the toad frogs are singing their love songs in the ponds. Such different sounds from each one, a regular "Froggy Symphony"! My lovely grandmother labeled it as such when she came to visit my parents long before I was born. One evening as she sat on their front porch listening to the frogs in their fish pond, she penned a poem with that phrase. The poem hangs framed on the wall of my dining room..I think it is the perfect description of their song. The last verse states:

" And we welcome the lone tree frog who starts one more piping,

To bring in the swell of the froggy symphony,

We like it..it soothes us..it brings sweet reposing,

Like rain on a roof, lullaby composing."

Harriet Carter Chapman

Usually when it rains, I bake. This evening was no different..I baked! Sourdough Carrot Cake! This particular cake turned out extremely well using fresh grated carrots and some home-canned pineapple. I will post the recipe tomorrow.