A Parable of Peaches

1 On the eve of the Sabbath, the Farmer was walking in her garden in the cool of the day, and she beheld the peach tree, that the fruit thereof was good and ready to harvest.

2 And the Farmer looked down and beheld the fruit fallen to the earth beneath the tree and saw that it was beaten and bruised on the rocks. This waste grieved the Farmer, and she determined that the peaches should be picked that very night, yea, even on the eve of the Sabbath.

3 The Funny Farmer saith unto her children, let us go forth and harvest the fruit of this tree, for it is ripe and ready to harvest. Yea, let us thrust in our hands with our might, and pluck the fruit from the branches, that it may not be blown off by the wind and be lost unto us upon the rocks.

4 And the children said, nay, for we are playing a game. And also the Sabbath is nearly upon us; surely thou shalt not make us work so late on the eve of the Sabbath!

5 And the Farmer said, thou shalt stop playing thy game and help me harvest the peaches or thou shalt feel the wrath of my anger, yea, in my fierce anger shall I smite thy game unto destruction except thou speedily repent.

6 And the children obeyed. But there was much murmuring among the children; nevertheless, they did drag themselves up off the floor and follow the Farmer out into the garden.

7 And it came to pass that as they drew close to the tree, they saw that it was heavy with fruit.

8 And the children groaned and said, yea verily we are already sick of eating peaches, for thou hast fed us peaches from the garden all week long, and we would rather go and play our game than pick more peaches! But they looked upon the terrible face of the Farmer and were filled with fear, and did commence picking the fruit in silence for a time.

9 And it came to pass that while they were picking the fruit, there appeared in the tree the cat, who had heard the commotion in the garden, and being more subtle and curious than any other beast in the field, came forth to see what the fuss was all about.

10 And when the children saw this, they laughed and began to make merry and beckoned to the cat to come closer, but the cat was wise and would not hearken unto their pleadings, and fled from the tree, lest it be captured. The children pursued the cat to the edge of the garden, yea, unto the edge of the wilderness next door where those with bare feet dare not go, but the cat was fleet of foot and they could not overtake it, so speedy was its flight into the wilderness. And it came to pass that the cat could not be found anywhere in the garden from that time forth until darkness fell.

11 And it came to pass that the children heard the voice of the Farmer calling to them from the tree, saying, where art thou? Hast thou so soon forgotten my command to pick the fruit of this tree? Repent ye and return to your labors, lest I smite thee in my anger. Hurry, therefore, for my sword doth hang over thy game and it will surely be taken from thee for a week if thou doth delay thy coming. For darkness cometh quickly and the Sabbath is nearly upon us, and if we do not finish harvesting the fruit it will be utterly wasted by Monday.

12 Therefore the children, greatly fearing, returned to the tree and commenced again their labors.

13 The Farmer saw that the fruit of this tree was very good; yea, they were as large as baseballs, and the aroma thereof was sweet. And the children saw that they were good for food. And they began to find joy in their labors, especially did they take joy in throwing the fallen fruit at one another through the branches of the tree.

14 And it came to pass that after many minutes the work was finished.


15 And the children were glad.

Occasionally Asked Questions

Welcome to my OAQ (pronounced 'oh-wack'). I know that it doesn't have the same clever ring as a FAQ, but since this blog doesn't get all that much traffic, most questions only get asked once or maybe twice, and hence the term "frequently" doesn't quite apply here. And I'm okay with that. Popularity is over-rated, anyway. Honestly, it's not a big deal to me! Really.

Chicken Update: they're about as big as breadboxes now. Does anyone actually know how big a breadbox is supposed to be? So yeah. They're dark orange feathered, white tailed, chicken-shaped breadboxes on legs. If you follow the link there is a picture of them. We've sent all the cockerels and meat birds on to that great pasture in the sky. Now that we're down to just the four hens (who will start laying in late September or so), I've been letting them run around the yard during the day. Actually, for the past week or so, I've pretty much been ignoring them. I changed their water yesterday. I think. They find a sheltered spot to spend the night, and spend their days scratching in all the flowerbeds, garden beds, and yes, eating my blackberries and grape tomatoes and windfall apples. I toss out leftovers and overripe ears of corn. They eat the cat's food if someone leaves it out on the porch. The siamese cat, Baby, is my chicken herder. She is never far from the flock, watching them with fascinated eyes. They are not afraid of her in the least, and often come in for a closer look, at which point the cat turns and flees to a safer spot. The other day I looked out the kitchen window, and one of the hens was actually chasing her across the lawn! She ran to the screen door and meowed piteously for me to save her! I must start keeping the camera closer at hand!

Knee Update: I am recovering nicely after falling out of my house nearly two weeks ago. After about a week, the swelling and painful stiffness began to recede and I am back to riding bike and walking to condition the leg. Clogging starts in just under a week and I hope to be ready to join the class on September 2nd. I got the green light from my surgeon to slowly re-engage in normal activities of my choice, so now I am just waiting for my knee to read the memo. Wish me luck!

The Kitchen: Ugh. I am trapped in indecision. Do I go for the cheap re-staining of cabinets and a spray-on countertop facelift that I can afford now, or do I save up another year or so for the complete renovation, including new flooring, appliances, and a cabinet/appliance configuration designed by someone who actually spends time working in a kitchen (aka: a woman)? Or maybe a middle of the road, fence sitter approach: stain the cabinets and buy a new laminate countertop? I think the problem is that I don't really know what I want. I guess when I really get serious about doing something, I will actually do the research and shopping required to make a decision. The real question is: will my desire for an updated kitchen ever be stronger than my aversion to shopping?

The Harvest: This is the time of year that I am glad that I forced myself to plant stuff in the spring. We are currently eating our fill of table grapes, corn, green beans, and zucchini, as well as sharing with neighbors. Green peppers are sizing up and will be ready soon, along with raspberries and peaches. We would be eating grape tomatoes and blackberries if I would keep the chickens penned up. Salad tomatoes are still green, and the cantaloupes are racing to ripen before cooler weather comes. I am cautiously optimistic.

The Garden: I think that this is my poorest gardening year yet. Last year I was ambitious and energetic, and we planted the entire back and side of the neighbor's yard. This year, I've let everything go.

Ever since my mother's passing last September I haven't felt the passion for working in the garden that I once did. I wonder if maybe I loved gardening because my mother did and I was subconsciously trying to be like her? I don't know. Now that she's gone, I don't care so much any more. Add lack of interest to being crippled for most of the spring and early summer, and the result is a weed patch. Even now that I can work outside again, I don't much. I feel faintly embarrassed when I actually open my eyes and see how bad my yard looks, but even then I don't care enough to do anything about it.

Maybe next year.

The Bishop: Hiccups asked, "What's it like being interviewed by the new bishop?" Uh... I don't understand the question, really. The bishop doesn't interview me, unless you count pillow talk.

Which I don't.

He puts in a 10 - 12 hour day most Sundays and has interviews or visits two other nights per week. He's out doing good a lot. Even when he's home he's often preoccupied with the problems of ward members or talking to them on the phone. I'm just the support personnel at home that irons his shirts and prepares meals so that when he walks in the door after a long day at work he can go right back out and do good. It's a good thing I'm a strong independent woman with my own interests and friends, otherwise I'd miss him too much. Then I might be forced to schedule an interview.

Stay tuned for more true confessions...

Anything else you wanna know?

My Yard Boy

This is my husband. I really like him.

He doesn't appear on my blog often because he doesn't care to have his picture plastered all over the internet. What a shame. The man is a hunk with some seriously sexy biceps I wouldn't mind showing off. Most of the time I respect his wish for anonymity. But not today.

See that weed in his left hand? It is the last one of scores of tall weeds that he pulled around the yard this morning, after mowing the neighbor's un-landscaped yard (in which we garden in exchange for weed control). Because I was crippled all through spring and into mid-summer, the garden next door was much reduced in size, which left the remainder of the yard at the mercy of nature. Translation: because I have been siting on my fat apple for the last five months, the weeds took over. Prickly lettuce, goats head, knotweed, spurge, kochia, pigweed, and wild sunflowers flourished.

I feel responsible for the mess - after all, I am the one who made the deal with the kind, gracious woman next door. My husband is busy with more important things than yardwork, such as earning a living and seeing to the temporal and spiritual needs of 500 people, so I haven't asked for help with what was clearly a losing battle for me. As a result, the nightmare next door has been preying on my mind all summer.

And now they've all been cut down to the ground. Because he noticed that I was in over my head and just not keeping up.

Thanks, honey.

Guess What?

Remember that post earlier today, about my weedy yard? Well, I have just redisovered an eternal principle: that confession is integral to true repentance. There's a scripture about that here, somewhere. Oh well, I'll just paraphrase.

"...When we undertake to cover our weeds, or to gratify our pride, our vain ambition, or to exercise control or dominion or compulsion upon the souls of the chickens, in any degree of unrighteousness, behold, the heavens withdraw themselves; the Spirit of the Master Gardener is grieved; and when it is withdrawn, Amen to the gardener-hood or the authority of that woman.

"Behold, ere she is aware, she is left unto herself, to kick against the rocks, to persecute the children, and to fight against bindweed forevermore."

My point is this: until I published photos of my weedy yard this morning, it stayed weedy. But once I let go of my gardening pride and confessed to y'all that I am not perfect, the strangest thing happened. I wanted to weed. So this afternoon I sat down and ripped all the weeds out of the backdoor flowerbed.

It was invigorating. It was almost... fun! Over and over my fingers searched out the crown of the bindweed, and pulled it from the ground.

For your convenience, here is the BEFORE pic:

And... AFTER!


Remember the clump of grass next to the lillies, BEFORE?

And, AFTER.

The flat contains some flowers and ground cover given to me by a friend. I'm planning to plant them tomorrow.

Oooh, and bonus: While working, I found a ripe strawberry; the first strawberry of the season! My kids would have been so excited! But I selfishly ate it without telling anyone. (See? I'm not trying to hide my sins anymore.)

It was delicious.

A Boost for your Self Esteem

I am a Master Gardener. Most people are intimidated by this.

It's an uncomfortable title that I try not to be let known (which is why I put it on my blog). I took a 40 hour class from the USU Extension service and put in 40 hours of volunteer work to earn it. And now people think I not only know everything, but that I have a perfect lawn and garden.

#1: I do not know everything.

#2: Even if I did, knowing does not necessarily equal doing.

The purpose of this post is to disabuse y'all of the notion that I have the perfect yard. Welcome to a glimpse of my garden thus far this year.


Here is the $14 flat of geraniums that I failed to plant.


Here is the forgotten pack of Jalapeno Peppers.


Here is my weedy backdoor flowerbed. The bindweed (in bloom) and thistle are healthier than they've ever been. It must be all the rain we've had. And the fact that I haven't pulled them out yet.



Further down, in front of the lillies, is a nice big grass clump with ripening seed heads. The strawberry plants beyond the rain spout are barely visible because they have been nearly covered by weeds.


Here is the back fence bed, which also has strawberries, day lillies, and sage, none of which can be seen. Instead, the crabgrass from the neighbor's yard and sunflower seedlings from last year's flowers have taken over.


Now, you should all breathe easier knowing that my yard is such a disaster. Right? Suddenly your own gardening skills seem better, don't they?

My work here is complete.

Let it Snow!

I was the first one up on this gray Saturday morning. I looked out the window, and what did I see? Snowflakes falling on the apple tree! And the grass... And the patio...

And the slide... Behind the playset, you can see my poor untrimmed raspberry canes are bowed over under the new, wet, very heavy snow. Don't they look sad?


And the picnic table... A very dismayed cat surveys the sea of white that he must cross to go wherever it is that cats go.

And there he goes....wherever.

And the forlorn garden... complete with neglected tomato vines still on the trellis. I guess the harvest is over. (Finally)


And the firepit... No more roasted marshmallows this year.

The Great Garden Cleanup

Due to my malfunctioning camera, I have no amazing photos of our day of garden work. I'm sure you'll get over it. I have confidence in your resiliancy.

At 9am, our ward's Scout Troop converged on my garden next door, ready and willing to wreck destruction on all things of the plant kingdom. Interspersed with the work of pulling down cornstalks, sunflowers, and uprooting tomato vines, was a pickupgame of baseball with sunflower stalks for bats and tomatoes for balls. This quickly degenerated into an all out tomato fight. After the work was done, donuts and hot chocolate were passed around.

I recruited my kids to help too. Susan, Nathan, and Megan helped in the garden, while Karianne negotiated for indoor work -- she cleaned the kitchen. It was nice to come in after a long day's work and have the kitchen clean from top to bottom, instead of the usual disaster of dishes that awaits me after a day outside.

In about an hour, a day's worth of work was done. With a rented shredder, Tom reduced the mountain of waste matter into a nice big pile of compost-ready fluff. I fired up dad's old Troy Built rear-tine tiller (ok - Tom got it started the first time because I was too weak to start it cold) and prepared some ground for winter cover crops. What an awesome tiller. It's so heavy in front that it stays on course without any help from me. No jumping around or any silliness like that. I just walked along side it with one hand on the persnickety throttle that had to be constantly adjusted to keep the motor going. It's a bit annoying to have to baby it, but the upside is that I can't lend the tiller out, because it's so hard to keep it running. Of course, nobody else in my ward has a garden large enough to need a big tiller anyway.

The weather was perfect--sunny and cool, ideal for outdoor work. I like the feeling of having worked hard all day and being productive.

Token post

Is it really that I am too busy to blog? Or just that my time management skills have been blown into oblivion?

One sad event that has hampered my ability and desire to post is the loss of my new camera. Yes, the one that takes marvelous pictures that I cannot afford to replace at this time. Even the old camera is currently misplaced. I have not been able to make myself post since the loss of my new camera... I didn't want to admit that I was so careless as to leave it at a city park, and deep down somewhere in the damp corners of my mind I reasoned that if I didn't write it down, maybe it didn't happen. Three weeks later... it still hasn't turned up.

So now I can't blog about Nathan's diving class because those pictures were on the camera. I can't blog about how awesome my massive garden is doing because you really need to see it to believe it. I can't blog about the amazing new sectional sofa we bought for the basement family room because again, words just aren't adequate to describe it.

Maybe I'll go look for my camera some more.

Oodles of noodles... or seedlings

I planted 60 tomato seedlings today. Also 40 pepper plants in six varieties , 3 hills each of cucumbers, crenshaw melon, and turban squash. All while listening to Jane Eyre on my mp3 player. Talk about culture!

If I wasn't so tired I'd take a picture of them, all planted nicely in their rows. You've got an imagination, don't you?

Spring in the Garden

So, the garden is underway. Here's the progress as of May 15:



Not-so-early peas (planted March 15). It seems like they take forever to get started, but once they take off, things go quickly. These are blossoming now, so we should be eating peas in two weeks, unless the weather gets hot, in which case they'll be tough and bland. Cross your fingers.

Red Potatoes just broke ground last weekend, and are already 4 inches tall. It will be time for the first hilling Saturday.



Broccoli (left), which was started from seed under lights, and transplanted in early March, is looking great and just starting to form heads. We'll be harvesting by next week. Romaine lettuce, front right is ready to eat, and just like every other year, I need to recruit more salad lovers to get through it before it bolts in the coming heat. Radishes (back right) are sizing up nicely, and arugula (middle right) is too tangy for the kids, but I like the bite it adds to my salad.



Garlic (back) and spinach (front) planted in November under the cold frame are doing well. This is the last week for this crop of spinach, and there is no way I am going to get through it by myself. I need rabbits or something.



Ultimate Opener Tomato, planted in March under the cold frame, with blossoms. It doesn't look like I'll be eating tomatoes in May like I'd hoped, but early June looks pretty hopeful.


Here is Megan, demonstrating my newest toy, the Earthway Precision Garden Seeder. This little baby opens the furrow, drops the seed in at predetermined spacing, pulls the soil over the seed, and firms the soil. Here, she's planting sweet corn. I hope someday to get a turn to use it. Luckily she goes to school in the afternoons, so that's my chance.


Now to brag about the fruit.

This is the himrod grapevine, which gave us 25 pounds of green table grapes last summer, it's first fruiting year. I'm excited to see how much we get this year.


The peach blossoms survived the frost, and have little fuzzy green footballs all over the branches.

This is the MacIntosh apple. I am so excited, because this is the first year it has bloomed since being planted in spring 2003.


And here are the first sweet cherries! Granted, there are only about a dozen fruits on the entire tree, and the birds are likely to get to them before we do, but aren't they just the cutest things you've ever seen?!

Okay, I'm done boring you for now. But I'll be posting more pictures when the corn comes up!

Degrees of B.S.

I earned my B.S. degree in fertilizer in the mid 90's, when I had my first "real" garden. I went to the home improvement center and bought composted steer manure in 1 cu.ft. bags for 69 cents each.

Then in the late nineties, I discovered that compost could be purchased by the yard, if one had a pickup truck to haul it in. I begged my home teacher for the use of his rusty old Chevy, and began work on my M.S. (More of Same) in Manure Management. Soon thereafter we acquired a trusty little Ford Ranger pickup truck, and I was happily hauling my own manure -- from local farmers and the county composting facility.

This year, I needed more than a couple of yards of compost. It was time to get serious. Monday afternoon I achieved my PhD (piled higher and deeper) in bovine excrement. I bought some compost--fifteen beautiful black yards of composted dairy manure. It was delivered in a big dump truck, and made a mountainous pile on the sidewalk.


For FHE, Tom was on lesson and I was on activity. Our lesson was about the value of family work, and the activity was shoveling manure. We had some wonderful family togetherness while we shoveled, wheelbarrowed, and generally spread crap all over the place. It was so sublime, at one point I got a tear in my eye. It's possible it could have been caused by my son's "accidentally" pitching a shovelful of manure at my head. I can't really be sure.

As the sun set and my happy worker dwarves (sarcasm here) skipped off to their reward of ice cream with 'chocolate' dust (I told you you should have washed your hands first!), I stood gazing at the still rather substantial pile -- we'd barely made a dent -- and worried aloud that someone might come by in the night and steal from my beloved manure mountain. I was actually considering setting up a tent to guard my black gold from marauding neighbors when my husband lovingly reminded me that few people place as much value in a pile of dung as I do.

And sure enough, this morning, it was all still there.