Straw Bale Garden Produce, August 2021

The wait is over! The garden is starting to ripen. Here are some of the goodies we have taken in. (This post was meant for August but was delayed due to a loss.)

      

    This purple and pink cutie is a Pink Siberian Tiger tomato. I enjoy the flavor but have found the flesh is so quickly soft and temperamental. I also can't seem to stop these guys from splitting around the top. 

     Featured: Indigo Pear tomatoes (top left - small yellow and purple), Chef's Choice Pink tomatoes, Golden Fang tomatoes (oblong yellow), Wapsipinicon Peach tomatoes (fuzzy small yellow), Pink Bumblebee tomatoes (far right, bottom), Pink Princess Cherry tomato (hiding under the Wapsi), a cucumber, Tigger Melons and I believe an under-ripe Nebraska Wedding.

     I was delighted to grow my own yellow potatoes. :) These are fingerlings, which tasted absolutely heavenly in a pot roast soup. <3  

      These lovely tomatoes are my Orange Orangutans. Aren't they positively a feast for the eyes? Yummmmm. You can see the hint of a Kellogg's Breakfast tomato at the uppermost left corner, right beside a Chef's Choice Pink tomato. These were all quite large and made delicious BLT sandwich tomatoes. :)

    These tomatoes came out a bit "smaller", although not small in any real sense. I had a fair amount of Pink Siberian Tiger, Black Beauty, Nebraska Wedding, Orange Orangutan, Hilliblly Potato Leaf, Kellogg's Breakfast, and this large yellow-orange tomato I grew from seeds I took off of a supermarket tomato a couple of years ago.

    This picture is a closer look at what the Wapsipinicon Peach tomatoes look like. If you have a phone, zoom in. Perhaps you can tell that they are fuzzy like a peach, though distinctly a tomato. I don't particularly care for these, myself. They are my teen's favorite, though. Thus, I will always grow them for her. :)

    Here is a picture of Golden Fang tomatoes beside Roma/Rio Grand for comparison. They did very well, I think. You can see the one is still ripening. I like to bring tomatoes in while they are a bit green to keep them out of the hands of eager squirrels. ;)

This seems to be the only (terrible lol) picture I have of green beans. Hm. Sorry about that. lol

    This is what Tigger Melons look like on the inside. They are meant to be larger than this. It took three years of trying to get these to grow. I was so excited to see what happened that I let the vines go wild. I didn't cull a single melon. In no time, we had over forty! Fun fact: squirrels LOVE them! They are a bit like a cross between a cantaloupe and a honeydew. Their flavor is more earthy and less sweet. My friend loves them, so I will probably grow them again next year. :)

    Butternut squash came up. It was the only one that came up and stuck around. We got exactly one zucchini, two Crookneck (both of which died out of nowhere), no Delicata and initially no Spaghetti Squash. The latter vine came up and put out a small Spag before the squash bugs got to it. My pumpkins, cantaloupe, and cucumbers were all taken down by birds and squirrels while they were still seedlings. I ran to Kroger and saved a dying Boston Pickling Cucumber plant that was on its last legs. We've been making Cucumber Bread ever since.

Our beets grew very quickly but stayed quite small. I will have to look into them more next year and see what I can do to help them out. I gave them good soil, light, and nutrition. Even so, it seems that my neighbors and friends have seen their gardens struggle this year, as well. I am grateful for the few we had. :)

The Parsley (two kinds) has done very well. I am disappointed to say that neither it nor the dill has drawn in swallowtail eggs or caterpillars. Boo! The dill never took off, either. It is still the same single sprig it started out as. Darn if that little guy still didn't manage to flower. lol Chives have continued to boom. I do not love how their bulbs look, but the greens are quite tasty. Cabbage did alright. I picked it before it was full-sized since I am the only one who eats it. It was crisp, delicious, and oh-so fresh! :) I will check on the next head any day now. Carrots wilted and died in the hot summer sun. Radishes were tiny or did the same. Peas came up briefly (Alaska and Sugar Snap) but ultimately fell to wildlife. 

    In all, the month of August was very productive. We also turned my little Giraffe's pool (that she couldn't use with an injured ankle) into a temporary goldfish pond. One of our Bettas, Cobalt, also spent a lot of time out there bringing such a lively pop of blue into the yard. Feeding the fish added another component of tranquility to my gokotta ritual. 

    I adore fall and bear the Christmas spirit pretty much year-round but I have found myself dreading and almost even grieving the close of the gardening season this year. It is the one place in the world where I come closest to much-coveted coveted eutierria. *sigh* I digress. The days are short and best spent intentionally. I must enjoy them all while I have them. <3

The Day the Blood Cried Out

I wrote this poem around September 13th, 2001. It has since been published in four other places. I am posting it here to honor the memory of the day.

THE DAY THE BLOOD CRIED OUT
When Cain killed Abel So many years ago, He hid his brother's body. He didn't want God to know.
But Cain heard someone speaking, And as he looked around, The voice of God told him, Abel's blood cried from the ground.
We're also told in Scripture, If God we won't praise with shout: If ever man is silenced, The very rocks will cry out.
This last Tuesday a tragedy Struck our sinful land. Thousands of Americans were killed, By the terrorist's hand.
As floor by floor, the towers tumbled, In Heaven, God heard the shout. Even nature stood silent, As the blood began to cry out
A hole was blown in our confidence. Our peace shattered apart, As our once righteous nation, Suffered the consequence of a godless heart.
We've become so immune, So used to getting our own way. Might have the prayers of even one Christian, Prevented our loss the other day?
Our nation has turned to other gods, Made excuse for every sin. Too often not even a fervent Christian, Tries that hard lost souls to win.
We all pretend to be "Christian". We know just how to play the part. But the seeming outer devotion, Is completely lost to each distracted heart.
God has hedged in America, Protected us in His lap. And now he's calling Christian soldiers, To come, stand in the gap.
We need to get real with God. Let's turn this nation around. Let's give our answer to the blood, Now crying from the ground.
SYMPATHY WILL NEVER REPLACE SERVICE.
"And I sought for a man among them, that should make up the hedge, and stand in the gap before me for the land."
Ezekial 22:30a (KJV)

Living in the Past

    I heard somewhere recently that people who still talk about events that happened to them years ago are either stuck in the past or are doing so for attention. I find that to be a narrow-minded and ultimately negative assessment.

    Take me, for example. I am one such person. I make a point of talking about experiences that my husband and I went through long ago - although not for nefarious or ego-driven reasons. I do so because those exact same events are still happening to people today. For those people, the trauma is fresh. It is *right now* and they need someone to see them. Isolation happens when you cannot find someone to identify with or are too vulnerable to put yourself out there. Often, people in the midst of trauma don't even know how to look for help. Simply surviving has taken every fiber of their being.

    I would one thousand times rather put my story out there and be misunderstood if it means reaching someone in the darkness and giving them a safe place to turn. This is how I feel about using my birth story with my eldest. Even people in my own circle are still having babies. Some know me well, some I have met more recently. When I tell our story, it gives someone permission to give a voice to what they are going through. It also gives them a resource for companionship.

    By working in the arena of birth trauma I live in the dark, yes. But I am there because new people are showing up every day and need a hand back out into the light. Until we make birth safe for everyone, there will always be this need. Isolation can be lethal. I cannot turn a blind eye to this.

    The same can be said of living with anxiety and depression. *Someone* has to spot it and sit with those who find themselves there. My husband's lovely cousin once did this for me well over a decade ago. She passed recently: such a loss.

    Further, God is not threatened by Christians who struggle with depression, anxiety, PTSD, or any other mental illness. On the contrary, He is close to those who are brokenhearted. I think that sometimes people forget that struggling with something is not the same as surrendering to it. Every person's journey is unique. It is high time we recognize and validate that. Equally, struggling with mental health doesn't mean that that is *all* a person does.

    There is enough pain in the world without walking around making sweeping declarations. If the most you can see of someone is their perceived failings and your response is to call those out rather than try to help,

1. You're missing out on getting to know someone truly and deeply. I am acquainted with many people who suffer from anxiety, whether mild or crippling. I couldn't imagine seeing them only for their most vulnerable attribute.

2. It is a severe red flag about your own character. Narcissists, for example, operate daily in the realm of reducing people to their worst perceived flaw. This is neither healthy for the assessor or the assessee. Don't be that person.

    It is so important to try not to invalidate someone's journey with carelessly chosen words. Beyond the obvious, they may be doing work you cannot even see. <3

"Who Just Stuffed Me With a Cabbage?"

*The following article is a long read. It was originally published here.*

I was twenty-three years old when my husband and I finally overcame mild infertility and a history of early miscarriages, and I brought my twelve-pound daughter into the world. The experience was life-altering on such deep levels that I have yet to find a way to discuss it properly in one sitting.

I had had a rough pregnancy. My heart has issues and mimics heart attacks the entire time. I had bleeding, swelling, protein in my urine, and eight and a half months of vomiting at all hours of the day. Labor had started around 36 weeks and was stopped with seven rounds of medication that caused me an allergic reaction.