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Hi Everyone,
May began with the fields lush and green and the winter grasses still growing strong, but as the month ticked away the temperatures got hotter and hotter and the winter grasses died out. The summer grass—Bahia, was turning green with nice fat blades. The cows were tired of hay and only wanted to eat the baby green grass. As the month progressed the rains stopped, and the grasses stopped growing and some of the fields began to get a brown tinge to them. Thankfully some of the hay farmers around were able to get an early cutting of hay, and it was nice and green—and the cows once again were gobbling hay up fast because there just isn’t enough grass to satisfy their hungry stomachs—I guess that is what happens when you have four of them. May is always our drought month, and when we reach the end the fields are more than ready for the summer rains. We rotate the animals every day to new pastures, but just today we were looking out over the fields wondering where to move the cows to tomorrow—for all the fields have nothing but short grass. We need rain, and we pray that God will end the drought and send the summer rains. Then tonight the wind picked up, the sky grew dark and the heavens let loose. We didn’t get an inch, but we did get a quarter of an inch and right now every drop counts. I can’t wait to see if the fields are greener tomorrow. May is always our hardest month grass wise—for the winter grasses have died, the summer grasses are not growing fast, and no cover crops are growing yet. It is June now though, and in a month the grass will be higher than our knees and we will not have enough animals to graze it all down. Farming truly is feast or famine—it seldom is just perfect.
We started the week of remembering those who gave their all in order that we might enjoy the freedom that America has to offer. I pray that their lives will never be lost in vain—and it will take God having mercy on our nation in order to prevent that from happening. We spent Memorial Day a little different than most days, while we did milk the cows, move the animals, let the chickens out and weed a little in the garden and the back yard—Mom and I spent time off and on in the living and dining room changing out the spring décor for summer décor. We did let Steve clock out of work early, and we gladly spent more time decorating. It was the perfect day to decorate for summer because all of our summer décor is patriotic—so it goes up on Memorial Day and comes down on Labor Day. I found some antique canning jars in the attic that we used to decorate one of the shelves with—for what speaks summer more than canning the bounty of the garden. We finished our night off watching an old movie—“Sergeant York”. It is about a Christian man who didn’t believe in killing people, but realized that sometimes in order to protect lives that is just what you have to do. The movie reminded us that America is a country that has been fighting for its freedom from the very beginning, and it is the desire for that freedom that they created a government whereby all men pledged to defend the rights of each man, and each man pledged to defend the rights of all men. That is why we have a government of the people, by the people, and for the people. Many have sacrificed their lives to preserve our God given rights—the freedom to live as we please, farm as we please, work as we please, play as we please, and most importantly is to be able to worship as we please—not every country in this world has those freedoms, and some want to strip Americans of that freedom.
On Tuesday I headed to the garden to harvest some comfrey to dry for the salves I make—but instead I found a basketful of cucumbers, a few handfuls of okra, and some yellow squash. I had to go fix lunch before I got around to harvesting comfrey. After lunch we had an egg party—although I didn’t get to help with the packaging because I have injured my thumb and some jobs aggravate it more than others. I did manage to enjoy the fellowship though. I have the month off from teaching piano lessons, so when the egg party was over I finished making the yogurt and then I headed to the garden to harvest greens for the Jacksonville delivery. To my dismay I found that the kale had transformed into “Swiss Kale.” The collards had turned “Swiss” a few weeks ago, and now the kale joined the ranks. You may ask, “What is Swiss kale?” Well, have you ever heard of Swiss cheese? One of its characteristics is the fact that it is full of holes. Our collards and kale are now full of holes thanks to little green worms. I do not know exactly how to deal with them in an organic, corn-free way—nor can I find the time to remove all the little worms. When the worms made cocoons I rejoiced that they would soon fly away and then the collards could recover—for they are constantly making new leaves. That is not what happened though—the newly hatched butterflies laid more eggs and instead of lots of big worms I now have lots of little worms. Ugh! By Saturday the worms had found the Swiss chard—but that is okay because the chard doesn’t like the heat and has begun to slowdown in growth anyway. So—I think that it is time to feed all the winter greens (worms and all) to the chickens and plant some summer peas and some okra in their place. Since I couldn’t harvest any kale on Tuesday I decided to stock our vases inside with flowers—sunflowers, rudbeckia, and zinnias are on the flower “menu” right now. I like to call them seasonal cottage flower arrangements—whatever is blooming in the garden!
On Thursday just as we were fixing to head to the garden to harvest comfrey and weed, our dear friend Emily came over in need of a hug. A week ago her husband’s nineteen year old brother (the baby of ten children) was in a tragic accident and the doctors were fighting for his life. The emotional trauma of the week was taking its toll, and some tender love and care were in need. We invited her in to sit down and talk, but she had all her children with her and they had one destination—our garden! Our garden is not perfect by any means—it isn’t magazine quality right now, but it is an oasis—a little place where you can go and relax, be refreshed and encouraged. The garden can be therapy for the weary mind and troubled soul. We walked through the garden and Emily took pictures of the flowers and of her children and sent them to her Mother-in-law as a way to share a bit of sunshine in the midst of dark gloomy days. Her boys and some of her girls eagerly got down in the dirt and helped Mom and Steve weed the lemon squash plants. When we got to the caterpillar tunnels and I mentioned that the kale was finished and ready to feed to the chickens Emily was more than eager to dig in and empty a row of all its plants—her little girls even helped by carrying the weeds to the wheelbarrow for us. Yes, pulling weeds is therapy too, and if you don’t believe me then come and give it a try for we have plenty. I am sure that the best part for those children was when they found the strawberry patch, and the cutest picture was of the 14 month old sitting there with strawberry juice drooling down his chin—he was happy as a lark.
On Friday the news came that the brother-in-law had passed and we were glad that the whole family was able to be there to say their good-byes. Losing a loved one isn’t easy, but three things are very helpful: family, friends, and a faith in God. With ten children—they have lots of family to lean upon; I am glad that we could be that friend in time of emotional need; and best of all they have a faith in God—a God who has promised to never leave you nor forsake you, who was there for you yesterday, is there for you today, and will be there for you tomorrow. Isaiah 43:2 says, “When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee: when thou walkest through the fire, thou shalt not be burned; neither shall the flame kindle upon thee.”
While on Friday we mourned the death of a young man who didn’t make it to his 20 birthday, Saturday found us celebrating the birthday of a special lady in our church who turned 100. Born in Estonia, she has an amazing story of how God protected her: when the enemy killed her father because of his religious beliefs; when the enemy bombed the ship that she and her husband and brother were on as they escaped the Russian takeover of her country during World War 2; when she was rescued from the cold waters even though her husband and brother both died, when she managed to escape a concentration camp—because she made a wrong turn (like turned right into the concentration camp when she was supposed to turn left into her friend’s house); when she was able to find a job, meet an American soldier, get married and escape Nazi Germany and come to freedom in America. Yes, she has a remarkable story—and those are just the highlights. She is a very loving and caring woman, and if you ever wanted a lesson in hospitality she is a great teacher. She may be 100, but she still has her mind, walks a mile a day, bakes cookies and cakes for people’s birthdays, and has a love for God that is contagious. Mrs. Barker is a joy to know!
As I have sat here typing this journal the rains keep coming—Praise the Lord! We have already gotten more rain than we got the whole month of May, and it is still coming down in torrents. When I started the journal we only had a quarter of an inch, in the last five minutes we have gotten another three-quarters of an inch—I am sure that we shall get well over an inch tonight. I think that we shall be green and growing now.
Serving you with Gladness,
Tiare