Bee Balm & Memories

Very out of place and out of season is this photo of bee balm growing by our barn. Perennials like these, or coneflowers and black-eyed susan, are my favorite choices to plant around the farmyard, because I'm LAZY. A flower that grows on its own each year is very much to my liking!

Bee balm is a wildflower of the mint family, and has a strong signature scent. Whenever I walk by them, I'm compelled to touch the leaves and enjoy the aroma. Mm-m......I can't wait for summertime when they are in bloom again!!

Yes, this photo is out of place in time.......

Yesterday, I had a visitor, a distant relative of Husband's. I had contacted her to see if she wanted copies of some of the old family photos we've accumulated after cleaning out Father-in-law's house.

I don't know her very well, so it was fun to chat and get acquainted. She's several years younger than me, and still has children in grade school. Her husband is a pastor. At one point in our conversation, and prompted maybe by the fact that we were looking at old photos, she said she sometimes feels she was born at the wrong time in history. She would rather have lived in a time when moral standards were higher.

Although doubting humanity is much worse than its ever been, I nodded in agreement. Later on, her words took me back into my own past to around age 12, when I dearly wished to have been born at a different time. After reading all of Laura Ingalls' books, I was certain that life would have been much more fun and interesting back in her time in the 1800's. For some reason I remember thinking this especially one summer when my job at home was to paint wooden fences and the trim on the hoghouse. I would stand on the ladder and gaze off into the distance towards the woods and the river and dream of living as a pioneer in a log house. My naive 12-year-old mind imagined that to be the greatest thing in the world. Apparently, the implications of no electricity, no indoor plumbing, no grocery stores, no cars, etc., did not enter my head.

I mentioned these silly notions to my grandmother one time, and she shook her head and said, "Be very glad you live now." She would often sigh and say, "Oh, my, we had to work so hard back then." She would talk about the huge gardens and orchards and the long, tiring days spent canning every fruit and vegetable in sight, plus canning beef, too! She had no wish to return to those days.

However........I truly would like to return to the summer day when this bee balm photo was taken! Or go forward in time to the future warmth of summer and the scent of bee balm in the air once again.

Backward, or forward.......which shall it bee...... and it makes no difference, teeheehee!

Have a wonderful day!!!

Deep Summer in Iowa

Many years ago I read a novel, Deep Summer, by Gwen Bristow. Its setting was during the early 1800's on a plantation in the Deep South during summer. The author aptly conveyed the feeling of thick, heavy humidity and heat which blanketed the landscape, and permeated the homes and lives of the story's characters. That's all I really remember about the book, no other details come to mind. Right now, here in Iowa we're enveloped in similar overwhelming heat and mugginess. It's good for the crops......supposedly you can hear the corn grow if you're outdoors on a hot, humid night.



The photo shown here, one of the first taken with my new digital camera (sorry, I can't seem to get the photo to upload......imagine a green-striped farm field) shows where I spent all afternoon on Saturday driving the tractor pulling the hay baler. Not a bad place to be, since the tractor had good air conditioning. The guys unloading the bales had a much rougher time of it, as they labored and sweated out in the hot sun. Round and round the field I went, keeping an eye on the green swaths of hay being gobbled up by the rotating tines of the baler. Watching is important to make sure the baler doesn't get plugged up, even though it means getting a stiff neck from looking backwards all the time. Sometimes other things will go wrong, like the twine will stop tying around the bales correctly, or a pin will shear on the flywheel. Then I have to stop the tractor and assess the situation, fix it if possible, or call Husband to come out and help. Fortunately, nothing like that happened on Saturday, the baler operated smoothly like clockwork.



As I bounced along and steered the tractor, my thoughts wandered and I imagined that the bales are like the days or years of our lives. Each one being molded, shaped, and tied into a block of hay which then gets deposited in the wagon. When the wagon gets full......well, that's it folks.......a load of days and years gets dumped out and put away.



Make the most of whatever moldings, shapings, or tyings come your way today!!

Grooming the Farmstead

This week had become devoted to preening and primping around the farmstead, trying to clean up the rough edges. Lawn mowing, of course, is a major part of that. As on many farms, our yard is very large, almost like a city park. The task of mowing falls to me, as Husband and Son keep busy all day doing livestock chores and Daughter has summer employment off the farm.

Lawn mowing has always been a part of my life. While growing up, I spent countless summer hours pushing droning green Lawn Boys. My parents didn't consent to buying a riding mower until my brother was old enough to mow. Figure that one out! Push mowing was fine for us girls, but somehow was below what a son should have to do. Actually though, all that walking and pushing the mower was a good thing......it built muscles and kept us in shape.

Anyway, long-gone are my days of push-mowing. Since moving here to the home place twenty-one years ago, I have had access to a riding mower, thank goodness. There's been many frustrations, however, since Husband had inherited his father's tendency to buy cheap mowers which often broke down or just plain wouldn't start. That was usually the main problem......I would get all set to spend an afternoon mowing, and then the mower wouldn't start. Husband would get grouchy because he had to drop what he was doing to work on the mower. This went on for years, and I learned to just keep my mouth shut about it. Finally, this spring, Husband came up with the brilliant idea that we should invest in a higher-quality mower. Can you believe it?! So now when I mow I almost feel like I've died and gone to lawnmower's heaven. The mower starts nicely for me, and has plenty of power to handle all the rough and tough terrain around our farmstead.

Over the years, I've tried to expand the areas that we mow, because it makes the place look neater, plus really helps to control the nuisance of mosquitos, who like long grass and weeds to hang out in. If I mow everything at once, it takes about four hours. Sometimes I dread the thought, but once I get started, its OK......I can zone out on the mower and think and pray. Round and round, mower and I go, circling countless trees, avoiding rusty old farm machinery lurking in the weeds, outlining bins and buildings, and dodging pine tree limbs. By finish time, I'm covered in dust and dirt, with pine needles and tree bark pricking inside my clothing. It's great fun, and people ask me how I get that wonderful tan!

This morning after chores, while it was still fairly cool, I trundled about with my big yard cart, pulling stray weeds here and there by trees and buildings. By the house, I've been trying to establish a perennial flower garden, partly using native flowering plants. Right now most of the native ones are not blooming yet, so they look like weeds. Coneflowers, evening primrose, mullein, catnip, and black-eyed susans are the weedy-looking ones. I planted a patch of black-eyed susan by the barn door, too, and last week when the dairy inspector was here he wrote on his report that we need to "cut the weeds" in front of the milkhouse. That would be my black-eyed susans plus another area of bee balm! In a couple weeks, both will be in bloom......if only the inspector would see them then!

The main reason for all this farmstead clean-up is that this weekend my daughter's fiance's family is coming to visit for the first time. Even though they are long-time town people, I'm not too worried. Both parents grew up on farms, so they should remember what its like, and won't be too shocked by weeds and old stuff sitting here and there.