Pushing Spring

When I was a young girl, I loved all the seasons equally and reveled in each. 

Then, as I got older, I decided that I didn't really like fall because it seemed like everything was dying - warmer days, leaves on the trees, flowers...  I really sort of liked winter a lot because it was a time of hunkering down.  We spent more time indoors.  There was more time for my favorite pastime - reading books.  We were all together more.  When we got snow, it blanketed even the eyesores with beauty.  One can always layer on more clothing and get warm - unlike summer when only so much can come off and it still is sweaty.  I cannot say that I liked spring all that much because it usually brought on more chores and longer work hours and summer meant we had loads of work to do on the farm and it was unbearably hot.  The only saving grace for summer was that there was no school.

As I'm aging, I like winter less and less.  The cold weather fosters more aches and pains in my creaking joints and bones.  It does bring the hubby into the house earlier and we share more time together in leisure, though.  Spring, however, is a time when things seem to take on new life.  Everything outside looks greener, brighter, fresher, more cheerful.  So, I'm catching myself more and more at pushing spring. 

Today I really gave it a concerted push because I was inspired by a project Mike began last week.  He brought in a little cheap inexpensive plastic tray with these little peat/soil nuggets and poked some tomato seeds down inside.  I've watched eagerly for a little sprout every morning and every afternoon and so has he.  I think he has almost given up hope.  However, I was inspired.

So, yesterday afternoon when I went out to the barn, I poked around in his stuff out there and brought in three more of those plastic trays.  I had stopped by Bonnie's Barnyard to pick up a few packets of vegetable seeds on my way home and today I started our garden! 

I took these little plastic trays out onto the deck to prepare some seeds in hopes that we will have little plants for transplanting in a month when the weather cooperates.

containers and soil pellets

Each of the little 'grow-kits' came with a dozen little soil pellets that are wrapped in a biodegradable netting.  The directions say to slowly add warm water to the pellets in the tray until they are dark brown, soft, and expanded to about one-and-a-half-inches in height. 

soil pellets expanding

The shot above shows one pellet after the tray has absorbed a half-cup of water and the other after a whole cup of water is absorbed.  (I forgot to take a photo of the completely dry ones!)  I wound up adding one-and-a-half-cups of water in all and only had to pour off a little bit that wasn't absorbed. 

exposing the soil

Next, you tear and spread the netting back away from the top to expose the soil.  The netting and the plastic tray keep everything tidy and I even prepared one of these on my kitchen counter and had no dirt spillage.

I pulled out my seed packets.  I have yellow crookneck squash, yellow straightneck squash, pickling cucumbers, and okra that I started today.

sowing seeds

The directions said to place three seeds on top of each pellet.  I did this with the crookneck squash but I decided to only go with two seeds in the tray with the straightneck because we still have some squash in the freezer from last summer.  At this point I took a little painter's tape and labeled each tray.  I knew that all of these plants are going to look sort of alike at first and Mike and I like to organize our garden in a particular order.  Knowing that I don't plan to make a lot of pickles and don't particularly care to eat raw cucumbers, I only planted half a dozen pellets with them and planted okra in the other half.  I figure we will have a few transplanted plants of okra which will mature early and a row that will be later which will be sown directly in the garden. 

After I tapped a wee bit of peat atop each pellet, I set the clear top on each tray and set them in a sunny window of the kitchen. 

mini greenhouses

We will have something to watch for the next couple of weeks now in hopes of having our own transplants for the garden.  I think I've got about six or eight dollars invested in the seeds and the little trays are something Mike has had in the barn for years. 

The directions which came with the little trays say:  "When half of seeds have sprouted, remove dome and place in a cool, sunny spot or below a fluorescent light.  When the first true leaf appears, snip out the two smallest seedlings from each pellet.  Begin feeding with an all-purpose fertilizer and plant each pellet directly into the garden when all danger of frost is past."  Hmmm...  I'm not sure I'll follow the directions explicitly but I am looking forward to having my own transplants. 



Maybe we will turn this passion into a retirement hobby when the time comes!  (If we still are able to dig and plant and pick by then!)  For now, though, we are just pushing spring.

Happy Birthday to My Favorite Son-In-Law!

Happy Birthday!

Cooking causes some - shall we say - differences...

Cooking and food have proven to be things that are tough on the harmony of our marriage sometimes. 

I think part of the reason is that I have always thought of myself as a pretty decent cook.  Then, I married somebody who is a fabulous cook.  Plus, we joined together later in life - after we were sort of set-in-our-ways.  Then, there is the fact that both of our mothers are fabulous cooks and we still get spoiled by them cooking for us every now and again. 

I know there is that age-old chuckle about the new bride preparing food for her man after their nuptials and how she burns things and he eats it or how she tries out new recipes and he chokes it down.  We have those experiences in our brief marriage, too.  There is also that age old stigma of the man being the king of outdoor cooking.  We have those experiences as well because I never learned to cook on the grill.  When I was younger, my mother (a REALLY fabulous cook) did that.  Then, my husband got a gas grill for his first Father's Day gift, I think, and he did that.  When the children were old enough, they wanted to compete in outdoor cookery contests and they did that. 

So, there was never a need for me to learn.  Then, one year, my children decided to give me a gas grill for Christmas.  I experimented with it - burning some things till they were rubbery, undercooking some things and having to re-bake them, charring some things and having to toss them, etc.  I didn't become a master of the outdoor cooking techniques because shortly after getting the gas grill, Mike came along and he became my King of the Grill. 

Not only is he the King of the Grill, but he is also the King of the Frypan.  He can stir up the most delicious southern breakfast I have ever eaten on a Sunday morning - actually, most folks would generally just call it brunch because we have gotten spoiled and don't eat till late on Sundays most weekends.  Mike also batters and fries minute steak, fish fillets, and his pork tenderloin is to-die-for!  He has a smoker and can slow cook delicious roasts and turkeys.  (You can see the most outrageous of these attempts chronicled HERE.)  He has a couple of deep fryers and uses them to cook battered squash, okra, fries, hush puppies, and the fish he catches.  (You can see him in action HERE.) 

So, when it comes to meal preparation, menu planning, and dining in general, we have had some - shall we say - differences.  One of the first heated disagreements we ever had was early in our marriage when we were having baked potatoes and had no sour cream.  It has become a running joke in our household that we will never be without sour cream now (which reminds me, I need to run to the store).  We both have in our heads certain foods, styles of preparation, and condiments which are a must with certain foods - and those ideas are not always conjoined.

Being older and more set-in-our-ways has caused some - shall we say - differences, as well.  Not only do we have certain ideas and habits when it comes to menu-planning, we also have our own ways of preparing and our own favorite recipes. Those don't always overlap either.   (I've even joked that if it isn't the way his mother or grandmother prepared it, then it is prepared incorrectly.) 

Like any married couple probably has, I've shed some tears, he's pursed his lips, we've both gritted our teeth at times when it came to meals, menus, and cooking.  However, I think we are both growing to adjust and adapt.  My attitude has sort of come to the point that on a day-to-day basis, I'm going to cook and eat what I want and like.  If he chooses to also enjoy that, then good for him.  If not, he can fix what he wants.  Most times he will give my 'weird dishes,' and 'weird conglomerations,' and 'city cooking' a try and winds up liking them.  (Like earlier this week when I made Chicken and Broccoli Cobbler.  You can find the recipe HERE.)  Most times I absolutely love what he prepares and I have the added pounds to show for it.  

So, I guess we have achieved that happy-medium at this point.  There are still times when he isn't going to give on what I really like and I'm not going to eat turnip greens or sour kraut unless there is nothing else available and I've gone a long time without food.  (Yes, I will lovingly prepare it for him if necessary - like I did HERE but that doesn't mean I'm going to like it or taste it.) 

So, today, while Mike had to work - overtime - again - and I had one of my favorite meals:

tomato soup in a cup, cheese, and Ritz crackers

YUM!

Favorite Room

I realize that some days I live a luxurious life.  This morning I got to sleep late.  (Thank you sweet husband!)  Then, I had time to nibble a bagel, sip coffee, and browse through some blog posts of folks I follow.  I had time to read several posts and follow their links to read posts of some blogs they follow...

One of the posts I stumbled upon, over at Fieldstone Hill, focused on the writer's current favorite room in her house.  This set me thinking lots about our house, my former homes, rooms within those homes and more.  One thing I know I couldn't do in this house where I now live is to choose a favorite room.

I first thought it would be the master bedroom because it is so calm and restful to me.  Yet, it is also airy, breezy (when the windows are open in spring and fall - and one day earlier this week), and full of sunshine at times.  I love the hardwood floors.  I love the abundance of windows.  I love the bay window seat.  I love the antique furniture.  Of course, there are things I would change - but all-in-all, I love that room.

Then, I realized I was sitting in the kitchen when I could take my laptop anywhere.  So, I love that room, too.  I love the sunshine feeling of the yellow walls.  I love the abundance of cabinets.  I love the fabric of the curtains - something I found years before I even had a glimmer of thought about this house.  I love the French doors that open out onto the deck.  I love the huge windows which make me feel almost like I'm outside.  Of course, I'd love to change the counter tops.  I wish there was a place to mount a flat screen TV.  I wish there was a place for a small breakfast table for the two of us to eat at instead of the island.  All-in-all, I love that room, though.

I also thought about our den (or as Mike refers to it - the living room- which is probably more truthful because we do tend to live in there).  I love the fireplace which makes it feel cozy.  I love the large size of it.  I love most of the furniture there.  I love the Merlot silk drapes.  Oh, I'd change some things in it like maybe make it a bit wider so the sofa could sit opposite or parrallel to the hearth and not chop up the room.  Or, I would like to have it be lighter at times like the kitchen to give more of a feeling of being outside.  Yet, all-in-all, I love that room, too.

I'm wondering if maybe I should choose a 'current' favorite room and share it with some depth in some future posts like the other blogger did.  Hmmm...
Anyway, after giving it some thought, I couldn't think of a room that I like less than any of the others (unless maybe you want to count my closet that is such a wreck and needs a deep cleaning out).  So, maybe this house is deep-down wonderful!  Or maybe I have truly made it my own by painting and furnishing and decorating it.  Or maybe I'm just happy to be here because it is where the love of my life calls home.

Learning to be a Mom

I think we women begin to learn about being a mother from birth.  We learn from our mothers.  We learn from grandmothers and other relatives.  We learn from other folks' mothers.  However, the one who first REALLY taught me to be a mother was Bridgette, my first-born child.

Here she is on the day she became three months old.  It was the first day I heard her laugh out loud.  Her smooth skin glowed and dark brown eyes twinkled as that laughter tinkled like wind chimes on a sunny, breezy day tickling my heart and wrapping me in joy. 

She taught me to be more patient.  She taught me to be more protective.  She taught me that I could continue on no matter how tired I got or how much sleep I lost.  She taught me to set higher goals and have higher expectations.  She taught me to appreciate the little things and notice the ordinary.

She taught me to search for beauty close at hand.  She taught me that curls can be managed by simply letting them be.

She taught me that a smile can often melt even the most frozen, rock solid heart.  She taught me that Jellies make fabulous footwear for little girls who want to be independent.  She taught me that they coordinate with any ensemble - even PJs - and that she should have a pair in every color.

She taught me that it isn't so much the destination as the journey that is important.  She taught me that traveling and arriving in style means a lot but enjoying the trip is vital.

She taught me that a twinkle of the eye and a sheepish grin often say a lot more than words.  She taught me to treat friends like family and family like friends.

She taught me that family comes first and a hug goes a long way.  She taught me that you cannot say I love you too much.  She taught me that if you prop up others, they will usually prop you up when you need it most.

She taught me to take control of the situation when I need to be in charge - that a firm grip and a steady stare sometimes are all that is required to be taken seriously.

She taught me that sometimes it is better to let somebody else take control and just go with it.  Sometimes it is easier and better for everybody involved for us to just go with the flow.  She taught me to be flexible and bend so that others and myself don't break.

She taught me that natural beauty and infectious charm are always welcome and appreciated by everyone who really matters. 

She taught me to hold fast to those who are important and cherish the time we have with them.  She served as a life-line when I needed one most.

She taught me to appreciate the gifts I share and share the gifts I have.  Sometimes the gift is the effort behind it more than the gift itself.

She taught me that hand-crafted and hand-made is always more beautiful, more satisfying, more long-lasting, and more gratifying.  She taught me that to brighten somebody else's day usually brightens my own much more.

She taught me to learn from others and that those with experience are the most knowledgeable ones from whom to learn.  She taught me that we can learn from others even if we don't think we will use that knowledge.  She taught me that knowledge gained today will be invaluable tomorrow and  even later.

She taught me to be ready for anything.  She taught me that sometimes even when we think we are not ready for anything we really are ready for it.  She taught me to accept things as they come and appreciate them right where we are without condition.

She taught me that my heart stretches.  She taught me that the tiniest things are sometimes the things that take the most precedence.  She taught me to look at the world through the eyes of others.

She taught me to take pride in the accomplishments of others.  She taught me to encourage others to accomplish.  She taught me to lift folks up.

She taught me tenderness.  She taught me gentleness.  She taught me dedication and love.

She taught me reverence.  She taught me to revere each day as a bright new opportunity.  She taught me to revere the time spent with those I love and to try to create more time for those moments.

She taught me that the most important lessons are usually learned at the knees of those who guide us lovingly.  She taught me that it is never too early to begin teaching others.

She taught me that when we give ourselves to others, we receive more than we can ever give away.

She taught me to look at the world through different lenses.  She taught me that my own perspective isn't always the one that is truthful and open-minded.  She taught me to try to capture as much as possible and revisit past experiences to help me understand the present situation.

She taught me that behind the scenes often is the most important place to be.  She taught me that the appreciation of most circumstances comes from staying in the background.  She taught me that the observation of others often brings out the best in ourselves.

She taught me that we are never too old to act silly, to giggle, to laugh at ourselves.  She taught me to have fun at every opportunity.

She taught me that sometimes others learn better when we stand aside and let them discover on their own.  She taught me that the feeling of a support net is just as important as the actual support net.

She taught me that a faithful and devoted wife makes mistakes but perserveres. She taught me that a strong role model is fallible but seeks to live like the example she wants her children to be.

Twenty-nine years ago today, my daughter began teaching me to be a mother.  She became my teacher long before she was born, but she certainly took command of her pupil that day and has insisted that I be a rapt pupil ever since. 

She is now a mother herself and is learning every single day as well.  She is one of the greatest gifts I ever was blessed to have bestowed upon me and I am thankful for her each and every day.

Happy Birthday, Bridgette!