Spring Garden Tips and Swift Transitions

My lily of the valley went above and beyond in the last few weeks. 

This frilly girl can be invasive—extremely so. 

If your boundaries aren't strict enough, it will take over the entire garden. 

I recommend putting it in a container if you can't be ruthless with the hoe. 

Our Japanese maples were frost-fried during the crazy weather we've had this 

spring in northern Kentucky. One young tree only has a few leaves left to power itself 

through the rest of the growing season. It's well over twelve feet tall now but 

started as a seedling like the one I found this week. Red maples can be sprouted 

from their "keys" if you have plenty of patience. 

Tutorial here. And this longer tutorial is loaded with information. 

SIDE NOTES:

One of my least favorite sayings is, "The only constant in life is change." But we all know how true it is—life is an ever-lengthening chain of transformations, variations, and transitions with an about-face or two thrown in for good measure. 

* Here's where we have choices. 

Will we choose to react in fear and doubt, processing change from a position of weakness? I admit to pitching a tent in one of these slums or another too many times. 

Or will we choose to absorb life's vagaries with confidence and good humor?

2020 has been a continual test of my resolutions to choose well. 

Maybe it has been for you, too. 

* I've been through a few stages of life now, and here's what I keep coming back to. This is what gives me direction. And when I entered motherhood twenty-eight years ago, this became one of my anthems. Will you share yours? 

What Kind of Fruit?

The fruit trees are blooming on our rural one acre.

Blushing peach tree blooms, alabaster plum tree flowers, and still-tight apple buds. 

It doesn't matter how desperate the news, 

spring in Kentucky is settling in and getting comfy.

 My Youngest planted these trees a few years ago. 

They're barely tended, receiving only a hard pruning now and then. 

 No fertilizer. 

No pest control measures. 

No staking or mulching.

And yet ... they bear fruit anyway. 

But not the sort of fruit anyone looks forward to enjoying. 

Tiny and shriveled, what survives the late-season frosts 

bears the gnawing of every critter that passes through our backyard retreat.

With the rest of the world, I'm examining the fruit my life is bearing.

In impossible-to-imagine pandemic days, will I yield fruit gnawed by fear and anxiety, 

frost-bitten with affliction, neglect-shriveled knobs?

I pray not. 

Will you, with me, work alongside the Master Gardener to 

stake what's leaning and allow the pruning of what's useless?

 Are we willing to stand guard against enemies of anxiety and 

despair, and instead, pour on the fertilizing energies of gratitude and generosity?

I pray so.

Together, we can bear fruit that will bring delight instead of disappointment. 

Read more about spiritual fruit here. 

Explore a fascinating innovation in fruit trees here.

At First Glance

A visitor to my Kentucky acre might believe this curly willow to be dead. 

At first glance, that's understandable. 

"Just cut that down and make room for something new," 
my visitor might say and donate a casual kick. 

But, the gardener knows better than any visitor. 

Time and attention have been invested in this tree—hours of staking, 
pruning, and watering. The considerate gardener knows that 
it's a mistake to hoist or chop in haste. 

What's true in the garden also proves trustworthy in the greater arenas of life:

parenting
friendships

aging
career

So, wait a while. Slow down and look the other way. 

Sometimes, not every time, but occasionally 

 when you look back, you'll find those longed-for signs of life.

------------

Learn how to root curly willow branches here.  

I just cut a long "whip" and leave it in a bucket or a tall vase of water 
until a decent root ball forms. 

Settling into Garnet

The Japanese maples on our acre are always among the first to 

celebrate spring. Trunk and branches store and 

stoke their calling-card color all winter, and in the spring ... 

... it bursts from every stem tip—scarlet flags against a

new-blue, spring canopy.

Now the fanfare is over, and they've settled into a more sedate 

summer color, something along the lines of garnet. 

As many of you know, I signed a contract to publish a children's book with Familius Publishing. I'm thrilled to join this company and add "Debut Author" to my list of life titles. I'd like to give updates here on what the journey to publication has been like for me, and let you know what's coming up next. 

Here's a question I've answered before:

How did you make connections in the writing industry?

In fall, 2013, my youngest son finished eighth grade at the Simpson Home Academy and entered public high school. I cautiously tiptoed into the writing world, staying safely on the edges. My investigations led me to Word Weavers International. Through this organization and its generous leaders, I began to step out of the shadows, meet other writers, and learn about the #writinglife. 

I'd love to answer questions about what's involved in a publication journey, which is unique to every writer. Ask your question or share your own experience in the comments.

A few facts for now: 

* The working title of my book is "Family Dog." It's highly unlikely that the title will stay the same. 

* The book will be in the Spring 2021 Familius catalog but will be available a few months sooner than that. 

* I haven't met the illustrator or the editor of the book yet. 

* I paid for high-resolution photos (headshots) at Portrait Innovations. It was a painfully awkward experience, but the talented young photographer managed to get a few photos that I'm happy to have for a back-cover blurb. 

More details soon! 

Susan

Get Noisy

Our Japanese maple spread its leaves in a 

wide, red skirt—a perfectly brilliant circle under bare, upraised branches.

What a peaceful way to go.

I'm plugging away at memorizing Psalm 100. 

Have you made any progress? 

Here's a visual aid—a photo of the Japanese maple before it lost its leaves. *

Our noise doesn't have to be cultured or clever,

sophisticated or insightful.

But it must be JOYful. 

Right here in mid-November, let's seek to bear this fruit of the Spirit. 

* Photo enhanced with free tools at the BeFunky photo editing website.

November Treasures

2017 is almost over and nature is giving notice. 

It's time to plow deep into the soil of this mostly-passed year 

and hunt for nuggets of GRATITUDE that churn to the top.

Those are the true unfading November treasures.

***

Meditating on a Thanksgiving psalm helps me focus on this season 

and resist being drawn into the next holiday too early. 

I'm trying to memorize Psalm 100 by Thanksgiving Day. 

Would you join me? 

Three versions here.

Various teachings on this chapter here.

The One That Made It

Last spring we bought two young dogwoods trees, a white and a pink.  

I hatched a scheme to create a garden entryway to the back part of our little Kentucky acre.

All I needed was a well-aged, blue-painted door ...

... and a pair of dogwood saplings, which we easily found at Lowes.

But as it turned out, young dogwood trees are like pretzel thins for whitetails—irresistible. 

SO the entryway dogwoods got gnoshed to bits over the winter.

But the extra one we planted close to the house—as an afterthought—made it.

Maybe deer don't care to munch so close to an outdoor grill?

SIDE NOTE:

While I was out taking these photos last night, 

helicoptering over stiff blooms as my men grilled burgers nearby, 

an unexpected hymn bubbled up and hummed past my lips.

Great is Thy faithfulness ...

Summer and winter ...

Pardon for sin ...

All I have needed ...

Peace that endures.

I know I'm not the only one in this crowd with an anxious heart. 

Am I?

It's hard to rejoice when life keeps piling on. 

Like a child left at the nursery desk, I 

nervously bite my lip and wonder when situations 

are going to get better. Just how long will it be until my 

Elder Brother shows up and puts everything in order?

That's when those old hymns drift back, bringing truth and comfort along for the ride. 

Closing Season

We closed the gardens this weekend, even though there were lots of blooms left to admire.

For the first time, we cleared with a weed whacker instead of by hand.

It was a little shocking to watch the garden fall in such a noisy, violent way ... 

but it sure was efficient! 

After the plant were cut down to about two inches, we raked and spread a layer of compost 

in the open areas. All that topped with a cozy layer of leaf litter and voila'!  

No more gardening until spring.  

I marked a few plants that were new this season, knowing that I will completely forget them 

by spring. A new painted fern transplant, some blue billows cuttings, and a 

hand-me-down peony from my neighbor, split into three sections and named after her.

 The summer chairs are wintering in the shed, the greenhouse is tidy, and the late hydrangea blooms 

have all been gathered. The growing season is over. Now we have plenty of dark hours 

to linger over coffee, light candles, and enjoy the peace of winter. 

SIDE NOTE:

I tried to stay focused on the work this weekend, but beauty was everywhere, in the most unlikely places. The cement birdbath in the flowerbed is currently filled with sweetgum and red maple leaves. Once they sink under the rainwater, their bright colors change to dull browns and depressing grays. I was glad to capture this single leaf point still above the murky water, channeling the afternoon sun.

Cramming

I hope you're cramming autumn beauty into your eye-gate with both hands.

figuratively speaking, of course

These leaves will be gone much too soon, and we'll be left with cold and bare branches, desperate for color.

Until it snows ... 

Party On!

It's a 24 hour party out there under our apple trees. 

Just look at this evidence of somebody's rockin' good time:

Pecked the good stuff right out and left only the core.

No thumbs required!

It might  have been a squirrel, though - they've set up camp out there and staked a claim.

I had to fight one the other afternoon just to get a bag for myself...

A Friend in the Drop Zone

Those tree trimming trucks - have you seen them around lately? 

Tree trimmers and I have a history. 

I think they might have 'marked' my house like the hobos did back in hobo days.

Crazy Woman Protecting Trees - maybe a female stick figure hugging a stick tree?

Yes, that would be me.

So when I saw the trucks nearing our house, I began to make plans. I lost sleep that very night, trying to think of the best way to convince a large group of Spanish-speaking men to not mutilate the row of pine trees that stand between our property and the road. How to get them to pass us by???

This same thing happened a few years ago, too - same scenario, same trees, same non-English speaking trimmers. I'm sure I looked insane out there making hand signals suggesting (begging) that they trim only a tiny bit, and begging that they not top the trees out.  They just listened, smirking, and laughing with one another. 

And yes, they topped every tree.

So I didn't have much hope that I'd be successful in convincing these tree butchers trimmers to pass us by this time. I'd seen their work further down the road and it was looking very bad. 

They seemed fond of scooping. 

Big scoops.

But I found a friend! 

This tree trimmer (above) was able to understand me, and even seemed a little sympathetic. Lots of hooting and chatter started when I went out to the 'drop zone' to make my case for only trimming the teensiest bit. He said they would be cutting the trees IN HALF. Maybe he became sympathetic when I started to sob, I'm not sure. I went back to my porch to watch, and then ... he went to bat for me! The guy in the bucket yelled especially loudly, but my  new friend stood firm. He called me back and told me they would angle-cut the trees away from the lines, only as much as ten feet. 

He seemed embarrassed when I clutched his arm and jumped for joy. 

Cup guy looked disgusted. 

My Hubs said they'd certainly get them the next time around.