Late August Summer Days

Tall corn stands thick and proud these hot muggy  August days. The neighbors’ soy bean fields delighted my eyes as I drove home from our village library and after visiting with a friend today.   The lovely bushy greenness spread out to the horizon like a warm wavy blanket.  After last year’s drought, this summer in our region has allowed farmers to produce bumper crops.  We are grateful.

We have eaten very good zucchini casseroles of various kinds to our hearts’ content and maybe a bit more than that. And corn on the cob from our next-door neighbor’s bounty. And now huge red juicy vine-ripened tomatoes with every meal but breakfast.  The okra has just started producing, so I will be putting more and more of that in the freezer for meals when the grandkids are here.  I have made zucchini cookies once and bread several times for us and for others. One is in the freezer for fall. (Gerald thinks a plant blight of some sort will end the zucchini season soon.)

I have used sweetener for most of the baked goods except what I gave away.  I made a second batch of zucchini bars yesterday that turned out vey good.  It was a recipe in my files that I’d never tried before. Maybe it is not accurate to say I made a second batch because the first time I was also pleased with the result until Gerald asked where’s the zucchini.  At that point after an extremely busy morning, it dawned on me that in my rush of doing two or three things at once I had never grated the zucchini I had laid out to add to the mixture.

I have not yet picked any garden produce.  Gerald continued to complete the task  even when he had to use just one hand being careful to not violate any of  directions given him at the hospital when he had the pacemaker put in.  But I have put corn and some zucchini in the freezer along with some tomatoes and even one batch of juice I made for wintertime chili. Despite my efforts to preserve some of the garden goodness, Gerald has had to take many full buckets and boxes to our homeless shelter in town.

The garden produce is not the reason I have been so busy. There have been days when Katherine’s aides could not show up, and I have gone into town to help her. She does not want me to, but she has to have help even though I have no training for nursing.

Good things are also going on. Before her new teaching and coaching job started in Texas, Erin was up for a weekend after all most a year away. It was so good to see her.  Brianna has started her freshman year at Murray, and we enjoyed a girls’ going-away lunch date with her mom despite their own work-crammed schedule this summer. Now Leslie is stopping by tomorrow on her way from her Nashville home up to a wedding in northern Illinois.  Gerry is coming in this weekend, and he and his dad will hunt dove in those beautiful sunflower fields Gerald planted.  Next week Gerald will get a final check up with the surgeon and two days later with the pacemaker people.  So  in the midst of concern about Egypt and Syria and our daughter’s health and a friend newly diagnosed with leukemia, life at Woodsong continues with peaceful mornings filled with fog and beauty and days with worthwhile work for our hands to accomplish.  And now I am going to bed for one of my favorite  blessings—a good night’s sleep.

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Life Too Full of Happenings--I Need a Break

Stuff (life) just keeps happening and does not seem to slow down.  Good things. Bad things.  But too much at once.  And lots of zucchini to cope with.

VBS came and went with little effort on my part but much enjoyment with grandkids in the house.  Elijah was at our village church three Sundays recently, and I loved hearing him sing.  I loved having him and Brianna with us as we studied Job in Young Adult Class.  (And it was fun having Mary Ellen visit last Sunday too, and then really nice to have her invite us all to lunch!)

The day before I had a wonderful unexpected treat when my brother Jim and wife Vivian come down from Mattoon.  Frankly, they have had serious  health problems that have made me wonder if they’d be able to come for awhile.  But Vivian’s sister in nearby Vienna was celebrating her 80^th birthday, and they came down for the family get-together there despite the tight medicine schedule they have to keep for the time being.  Jim called me the night before, and Katherine insisted I leave for an afternoon break so I could see them when they dropped by the farm on their way home. 

Adding to our pleasure was finding out their daughters Judi and Jane (Beth) were with them.  I relaxed thinking one of the daughters could drive if Jim got tired—but he left the farm in the driver’s seat.  Come to find out when I called him today for his 85^th birthday, he drove all the way down (with a traffic jam that slowed them considerably in Marion) as well as all the way home.  Although Jane would have been glad to drive, he  enjoyed making the long drive. I do not think I could not make that  trip there and back in one day.  And with Katherine so sick, I haven’t tried to go up for an overnight visit as I used to do.  So it had been much too long since I had seen them, and I was very grateful for their visit.  Elijah and Brianna came in while they were here, and I liked that they were able to see relatives they had not seen in years.  Vivian was especially pleased to see Elijah because he received the first of many many baby blankets she has made down through the years including ones for all of our grandchildren after Elijah.

Another joy has been  having Gerry and Vickie in the house yesterday and today.  They came by way of Dallas where Gerry had helped in a softball clinic that our granddaughter Erin was having there. Then they had driven all night and stopped at the farm for some sleep before coming over and joining Mary Ellen and me at the hospital in Carbondale, where Gerald was having a pacemaker implanted.  They had to return to Georgia this afternoon, but Gerry retrieved his dad from the hospital this morning and took him to breakfast at Cracker Barrel. I had a mite of trouble the first time I saw Gerald in a hospital gown before the procedure, but he looked the picture of health, and I felt confident that all would go extremely well and it did.

He had never spent a night in the hospital during our marriage, and I’d planned to spend the night with him although I figured he would protest.  However, it turned out that he was in a large ward  with very tight quarters, and they would not allow anyone to stay in there through the night. I saw no point in trying to sleep on a  hard chair in a waiting room.  So I carried out the little  bag I had packed with a tooth brush and meds and came on home at the close of visiting hours.  It had been rewarding  to watch the screen above his bed recording dots every time the pacemaker helped his heart rhythm.  We have to appreciate the modern miracles that researchers and physicians have created for us. I have a feeling Gerald will have more energy than ever now despite the fact that he already works more than anyone his age ought to in his wife’s opinion. The big worry now is how we will keep him following the doctor’s orders until the pacemaker settles in and the incision heals.

Before this, Gerald has  been busy mowing the yard since he is not supposed to do so  now for awhile and getting his garden in shape and picking zucchini.  On top of that, he has been getting estimates and talking to insurance folk because last Friday I needed to go to Herrin on an errand and I stopped by to leave zucchini and to share a few Union County peaches that Bill Tweedy has brought us. I invited Mary Ellen to go with me as  I thought it might give her a needed break from all the hard work they are involved in right now with crops and kids and moving stuff down from Waggoner.  Mary Ellen is an excellent driver and likes to drive, and we followed our usual pattern of my handing her the car keys. 

Just as I expected, we were having a good time talking and laughing, when suddenly as we were driving along on the main street of Energy we were rear ended with great force.  I never understood why, but a man had rammed into us. (The policeman said this has kept happening but the man kept passing his driver’s exam and he did have insurance.  We sure hope.)  We were shook up both physically and emotionally, but we knew we came out of it with a minimum of damage considering the jar we had.  Dark bruises show where my seat belt saved me from serious injury.  Otherwise, Mary Ellen and I were ok, and the car can be fixed.

Before Gerry and Vickie had to leave today, For our lunch I made a zucchini casserole for a veggie to go with out baked pork chops and instant mashed potatoes.  I’d been wanting to make a peach pie with the peaches  so I did that for dessert.and used sweetener instead of sugar as a welcome home gesture for Gerald.   It was successful.

All in all, there is just too much going on right now and I must take a break from blogging.  I process life by writing, and it is both relaxing and distracting for me to keep from thinking of problems I cannot control.  All my life when I see something beautiful, I have wished I were an artist and able to capture it permanently on paper.  Instead I have  to use words to try to make transient things more permanent. But right now, maybe I need to save that writing time for more important things.  Maybe I should be the one to start picking the zucchini.

August Blessings

We have been having delightful weather in Southern Illinois. High temperatures are so difficult on those with multiple sclerosis, so I have reason to appreciate more moderate temps. Hearing the news folk remind us one evening that it had been over l00 degrees on the same day a year ago made me doubly appreciate the cooler weather.

After he had been mowing the Conservation Reserve Program (CRP) land around Woodsong, Gerald came in and invited me to ride behind him on the “mule” to enjoy how pretty some of the back fields are right now. There are meadows of native grasses blowing in the breeze separated by the mowed areas for water run off. Last year he was excited about the partridge peas, but because of early weather and rain conditions, they are less abundant this year than last. Yet especially at the edges of the native grass patches, we do see a good many of the pretty lacy green plants with bright yellow blossoms.

The star of the field this year, however, is a plant I had never heard of before—bundle flowers. Brown has always been a favorite color of mine, although I like bright colors too. The bundle flowers are little brown balls or bundles filled with seeds that will drop to the ground soon and be there for bird food. We frequently see quail around the farm now and are grateful for their come back.

The garden is producing not just zucchini but enough acorn squash to even give away although there is only one acorn squash plant. It was accidentally bought by Gerald as it was mixed in with the zucchini. Most autumns I buy an acorn squash or two and one bright turban squash to create a centerpiece with other veggies. Then before the Christmas season, I cook them. But we had never grown acorn squash before, and we have really enjoyed this addition to our summer menus. We are also enjoying fresh tomatoes and okra.

The women in our church enjoyed a wonderful repast at Charlene’s on Monday night, and just when we thought it could not be any better, she brought out fresh peach cobbler. We have been able to get local peaches at our Kroger store, and many of our August meals have ended with a peach or a dish of sliced peaches.

Gerald came in tired tonight from his travel on an Angel Flight with his pilot friend Herman. However, he was feeling good at seeing a two-year-old and his grandmother transported to receive care for the little boy's legs which had been burned in an accident. Gerald loves to fly and to experience the amazement of going over so much territory in a short time. Since they had been delayed by the lateness of the flight that brought the duo from Cleveland, they had only returned to Marion in time to eat “lunch” at supper time. So just as I entered the kitchen, to cook a bite, Gerald said he had already eaten. So I was blessed with extra time to start reading When Lincoln Came to Egypt by Professor George Washington Smith originally published in 1940 and then republished by Gordon Pruett in 1993. I finished the introductory essay by John Y. Simon, one of our area’s outstanding historians who died this July. With my hometown of Jonesboro preparing for the sesquicentennial of the Lincoln-Douglas 1858 debate, I thought it was a good time to read the book.

I picked this book up at our village library when I returned William Keller’s History of Jonesboro, From 1803 to 1899. I grew up with Bill, who was just a year older than his cousin and my friend Shirley and I. Although I knew he was employed at the historical society in Springfield, I did not realize until after his death how much research and writing he had done. One of my deep regrets was that I did not take advantage of reconnecting with him after he retired in Jonesboro. I am sure that he had many answers to much that I want to know about the town.

I had a difficult time getting this book (Bill’s thesis for his master’s degree at SIU in 1956.) because it had been checked out earlier from the SIUC Special Collections. Naturally it finally arrived when I was busy with other projects (like shredding zucchini). Since it could not be renewed and had to be back by in the morning, I was glad Gerald was on the Angel Flight and I could read through the lunch hour and finish reading and taking the notes I wanted.

Paper, Paper Everywhere!

Sometimes I feel as if I am drowning in paper. I actually love paper. I love messy desks, over-flowing magazine racks, and over-stocked shelves of books. However, sometimes there comes a day of reckoning and every surface I see is covered with undigested pieces of paper.

I will start to write. . Suddenly I am stymied, however, because I need to double check my facts. I know that a copied paper with the facts or a saved article I need is here somewhere, but I can’t locate it. When I start going through a pile, I find things I’ve been looking for in ages past—but not what I need today.
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Today was such a day. I had a rare day with a few hours to write. (I would have had more time if I weren’t wasting it grating that blamed zucchini for the freezer.) I start writing and soon begin to doubt myself. I know what I am writing is probably factually correct, but I need to double check my facts to be positive. (This is the same feeling that makes me need to go back and check that I turned out the stove at the very moment Gerald starts to back out of the garage.). Where did I read that story that told these dates, names, or facts? Am I spelling that name/place/object correctly?


So instead of getting that article done, I have instead spent those hours looking through a huge stack in a magazine basket that was somehow turned into an impromptu filing cabinet. No, that is not accurate. Nothing was filed in there. The wide basket was merely a holding pen for a foot of stuff that needed filing. I emptied the basket, and I deliberately carried it to another room, so I would not fill it again.

I managed to throw away a few papers in the wastebasket. (I have already explained that I love paper, and it is very difficult for me to throw away cherished pieces of information. Never mind, that even when and if I get papers filed, I rarely need 90% of them again.)

After some clipping, I did have a stack of saved newspapers to carry upstairs for recycling. (Who can resist also re-reading these months-old newspapers as one clips?) A few items did get filed. Many got put in little separate stacks for me to file soon. (What a fantasy that is!!)

I am one birthday card richer to send someone. (Why was it in the middle of newspapers?) And there was the scrap of paper with an address and phone number I needed a few months ago. Mixed with the ephemera were several magazines that I had never opened. There are a couple stacks of those to carry into the other room.

I am also behind on recording anything that needs to be recorded. That desk (an old door on top of two short filing cabinets) is so cluttered that I know it will take a week to make sense out of the clutter. I love records, but I am a most unfaithful record keeper.

I found and re-read a number of pages of information I found and copied last January at Southern Illinois University’s library annex that is being used to house the Special Collections. I had gotten them encased in clear plastic ready to be stuck in loose leaf binders—but for some reason they had been placed in the bottom of the basket and soon covered up with months of paper debris. Now they sit on the large folding table in the middle of my office.

With all the little stacks of sorted papers still lying around, I cannot say that my office looks much better. I still have not found the copy of the magazine that started my search. But I do feel a little smug about emptying that magazine basket. (Now I only have a half a dozen or so boxes with even more papers to someday look through. When I get through going through them, I have some boxes of my mother's papers stored in the tornado shelter and saved for me to have a project when I am in my frial-elderly stage of life and can't get out of the house.)

But tomorrow I better start again on my article for the Writers Guild anthology with the September 1 deadline. I may have to find an alternate source of information to make my needed factual checks. Sometimes I can find what I need on the Internet, but yet if I don’t immediately use it, I must either write it on a note card or piece of paper to save it. You know what happens to those at my house. Ah well.

Why Does Everything Come At Once?

At the Trail of Tears Association board meeting tonight in Carbondale, Cheryl Jett arrived breathlessly with her supper in hand from a drive-through window. Our meeting after her drive down from Collinsville was just one of the many places she had to go today. This was also her first deadline for materials for her book about the city of Alton coming out sometime in 2009. She had prepared and printed out for us the agenda, treasurer’s report, and complicated minutes of the last very long meeting. She asked, “Why does everything come in the same week??!!”

Boy, did I empathize. My own agenda for today started out quite reasonable as I planned it yesterday. I’d have all morning to do laundry and get our lunch and fix a plate for Gerald to microwave for his supper. Knowing I was on my way to Carbondale anyway, it would be easy for me to be available to take Samuel to catch his bus to church camp so Katherine could keep her doctor’s appointment.

I could also return an unneeded item at the Carbondale Mall, recycle all the stuff in my garage at the drive-through recycling center, drop some letters in the Carbondale mail slot, and still arrive without pressure for the 6 p.m. board meeting. I looked forward to a busy but nor harried day. Since we have ridiculous amounts of zucchini and acorn squash accumulating in our kitchen, I also had thoughts maybe I could take a box to the soup kitchen since we no doubt will have another box full soon for me to think about freezing.

Last evening, however, Gerald told me that our wonderful neighbors had harvested a field of sweet corn in Galatia in yesterday’s hot steamy weather. The corn was picked and waiting to be shared with us. How many dozen did we want? Gerald ran over and brought back half-a-tub full of scrumptious perfect ears of corn. What more could anyone ask? Someone else raised it and picked it and gave it to us free!!

Suddenly my morning included getting down the big pans from the top of the pantry, washing corn and brushing off silk by the sink full, boiling water for blanching to stop the deterioration and loss of vitamins and minerals, fixing ice water to cool the corn after the blanching, bagging it and putting it in the freezer. As I read the morning’s paper at breakfast, I had laughed through Dixie Terry’s account of all the zucchini in her kitchen (when they had not raised a one), and decided I would get rid of one of ours by following her recipe for zucchini pie. Sort of.

I rarely follow a recipe exactly. Living in the country, if I don’t have an ingredient on hand, I make do with what is in my pantry. Even before gas became so high, I have never considered going to town just to get the items I don’t have. I did not have an onion as I’d thrown out the last one that rotted the other day, so I used onion flakes from the large container I’d bought recently. Not having crescent rolls to line the pie pan, I used a couple frozen pie shells. Usually I have a package of shredded cheese in the freezer, but I couldn’t find any, so I melted chunks of cheese food. I still had some chicken from a mesquite-flavored chicken I’d picked up yesterday, and I made the pie into a main dish. Her recipe was for one pie, but somehow I got two out of it. It baked while I was frantically trying to cool corn and carry it to the freezer in the garage.

The kitchen began to smell very nice, and Dixie’s recipe was delicious served with fresh sliced tomatoes—one from Gerald’s garden and one from the neighbor’s. I got the lunch dishes into the dish washer, and most of the laundry put away but not all. The big pans used for the corn will be washed easily in the morning. Sam was delivered to the church on time; and since I had fortunately packed all the recyclables in the trunk yesterday afternoon, I was able to accomplish that task before returning the mall item, finding a couple summer clothing items 75% off at Macy’s, and even doing a little Christmas shopping at the sale there.

Since our board meeting did not last as late as it sometimes does, I was stopped at Taco Bell and had a bite of supper and took advantage of Kroger’s senior citizen day on the way home. Most of those groceries are carried in; and tomorrow, I will put them away. I will think happily of all that tasty corn in the freezer to feed the grandkids when they come to see us next winter, and we will have left-over zucchini pie for lunch. Oh yes, I have been wanting to talk to daughter Jeannie and haven’t had time to phone her even if she were home to get the call, which she rarely is. I even accomplished that on the second try with a hands-free phone coming home from Carbondale. Everything comes at once some days, but sometimes that is a good thing to push us to more productive. Tomorrow I will sleep late and then do all the left-over tasks from today.