A Gardening Family's Loss - Update

Update on my gardening friend, Ester. She's holding up pretty well, missing lots of things from the house, of course. She lost all her houseplants including a very elegant aloe plant she'd had for 20 years. A few fans of this blog have sent contributions to the account (listed below). Any help, especially contributions of checks, going for building materials, are all greatly appreciated by the family. Thank you for thinking of them during this cold winter season. Jim

Ester Shouse is a lifelong friend and an avid gardener. Her late husband, Roy, took me fishing, taught me how to hunt for ducks, and many other outdoor things, when my father didn't have the time when I was a kid. I grew up with Ester and Roy's 9 children, we swam together, fished and hunted together. The kids, 7 of them still living, are all grown, some with children of their own. But Ester's house has remained the central part of this large family's world. Three of the boys, Richard, the oldest, Roy Jr. and Fred, the youngest, all lived at home and drove back and forth to Lees Summit, MO to work.

Ester, now 80, told me last year she had to slow down somewhat with her gardening. She had planted 500 cabbage plants and 200 tomato plants each spring for the past 50 years but this past year she had cut back to only 200 cabbages and 100 tomato plants. "I just can't do that much any more," she said. And nearly all of the produce, plus corn, beans, peas and other things, was all canned, or frozen for their 5 large deep freezes. That, plus the several deer, fish, squirrels and ducks the boys got, was a major part of their food.

I spent a great deal of time in my growing up years at the Shouse's house. When I turned 16 and bought my first 1950 Chevy car (bought with the $75 I'd made raising pigs when I was 13), I would often stop by Ester's house late at night before heading home from a date. There was always something cooking in a pot on the stove and I knew I was welcome to have some. It was Ester who taught me to eat hot peppers and it is to her I give credit to my love for those. My own mother made great chili, but it was Ester's chili that brought tears to my eyes and sweat to my brow. Whatever their household had, it was happily shared and I was always treated like one of the family.

A few days before Thanksgiving in the middle of the night, Ester's house burned. She was upstairs in her bedroom. A grandson, Byron (just back from Iraq) and his wife, Vickie were in another bedroom and Ester's sons, Richard, and Fred were sleeping in their bedroom. Roy Jr. was downstairs sleeping on the couch and it was he who yelled out the alarm that the house was burning.

All got out alive, thankfully. Roy escaped with his billfold and jeans, but suffered serious smoke inhalation and he was airlifted to a hospital in Kansas City. Byron and Vickie didn't even have time to get their clothes, nor did Fred or Richard. Car keys, false teeth, glasses, clothes, all were left behind because the house went up in just mere seconds. Ester's hair was singed, but suffered no physical injuries.

I'm posting some photos here, of Ester and son, Richard, in front of what was left of their old and very modest house. There's a photo of some of the boys sifting through the debris to find anything like car keys or coins. I took a photo of the canning - Ester had canned 157 quarts of tomatoes during the summer and I have no idea how much sauerkraut. The canning sets eerily on some newly built metal shelves that Fred had installed last year in the basement.

If anyone reading this post feels moved to help, the address follows at the bottom of this posting. They don't need clothes or household items, neighbors have been bringing those. Co-w0rkers where Richard, Roy and Fred work took up a collection and bought boots, jeans, etc. What they will need most is cash, to try and rebuild a house for Ester. It won't be the old two story place where everyone congregated, but it also won't have stairs where Ester might fall (she's fallen twice in the past year and broken the same arm, falling down some rickety old stairs from the kitchen). A new house will be built. Pete is a carpenter and cabinet maker; Roy and Fred are welders; all of the boys are hard working and so labor will not be a problem. But buying the materials will be a challenge. There was no insurance on the house.

Somehow out of the ashes another house will arise. This is an amazing family, a family I have been a part of for my lifetime. Not just connected by gardening, but in so many other ways, too. If you want to help, there's an account set up in Ester Shouse's name at the Security Bank of Rich Hill, at Rockville (MO), 320 West Osage Ave., Rockville, MO 64780. (You can barely find Rockville on a map of Missouri; it's in West Central Missouri, near Nevada, Appleton City and Clinton, Missouri. It's a tiny village of about 200 people, a very poor area. Once a thriving town with a railroad and a farming economy, there's not much left any more).

Thank you for any help you can give. Know that your gift is a welcome and badly needed to a family who have lost everything and have to start over.

Applesauce Making from Neil's Garden

A group of us friends got together at Sarah & Neil's house. Sarah, the acting director of our annual "Friday Night Applefest" provided pans, stove, and Neil's excellent help in harvesting and washing the apples in advance. They have several well-cared for apple trees and share their bounty each season. We, Josh and I, provided the applesauce squashing mill, brought along Lauren, our last WWOOFer of the season who had never seen applesauce made before. She gladly cut up apples and assisted everywhere.

Roxanna brought Tom, who watched (as he says, someone has to), and also brought recycled jars to fill when the sauce was done. Mardi & Lynn came, we all cooked, stirred, chatted and had a potluck dinner while the applesauce cooked.

Scattered around the living room were the watchers, who got accused of doing noting but sit. Of course, once the apples are cut up and cooked, there's actually not much to do but stir, put in some cinnamon and then run everything through the mill to get the peelings and seed out.

Once the apples were cooked, and run through the applesauce-squashing mill, it was time to put the sauce in to jars, bottles, freezer boxes and plastic bags. Roxanna helped with the filling and lidding of everything.




And once all that was done, Roxanna proclaimed it DONE!

We had a great evening of visiting, discussing, saucing and mashing apples and everyone took home a bunch of applesauce from Neil & Sarah's excellent apples.

Visiting Other People's Gardens

After all my hair pulling and whining about the garden being dead from the first frost, I went to Florida. There is life after all, and gardens, too. The occasion was to speak at the Boca Grande Garden Club. The Sara Blakely-Jesse Itzler wedding had just happened a couple of weeks back, I was told, which included a street fair and lots of celebrities including Ophra, which introduced Sara Blakley's Spanx line of panty hose to the world. Boca Grande Island's a great place, about 5 miles long, probably 1/4 mile wide, populated by people who live "up north" in summer and enjoy the sunshine of the Gulf Coast in winter. We had a wonderful host, Sharon Rankin, who made our stay a great treat and who showed us the light houses and other highlights of the island.

The Garden Club hosted a reception for us on Election night at the home of Ed and Nora Lea Reefe, where we met the officers and board of the Garden Club and had a tour of the Reefe's fabulous home (Ed's an architect and collector of antique nautical paraphernalia, fitting for beach living).

There were about 200 members of the Garden Club and my program was on the Ten Most Popular Herbs, based on my last year's survey of wholesale and retail nurseries and seed companies across the U.S. (which resulted in my little book by that title). The program was well received and book sales were brisk, with food furnished by the group. I made a bowl of my banana salsa for everyone to taste.

We flew in to Tampa a few days before the Garden Club event, specifically to go to the Sunday morning Mustang Flea Market. And what a market it was. Half the vendors don't speak much English. We found Thai, Lao, Cambodian, Hispanic and others, selling produce and plants. I bought longons, rambutan, dragon fruit, passionfruit, passing up starfruit, oranges, pomelos, and a few others. I bought a pandanas plant, which I'd been looking for ever since I was in Thailand for cooking classes a few years back. The leaves are an ingredient in Thai pudding, which I like.

We stayed in Bradenton for a couple of days, in the apartment of Tom and Roxanna Collins, friends from our Friday Night Dinner Group here at home. We explored the area around Bradenton, including St. Almons, De Soto National Landmark (where Hernando de Soto landed and enslaved the Indians, or at least the ones his soldiers didn't kill). We found the Anne Marie Oyster Bar on Anne Marie Island, and Kay's Kitchen near Sarasota. Some trips are "bad food" trips, which means no matter where you stop, the food leaves much to be desired. Then there are "good food" trips, in which every place you stop, the food's great. This was definitely a good food trip, every day and was topped off by festive food at the Garden Club and a very pleasant dinner at the Boca Country Club the night before we left for home.

We visited the Florida Native Plant Nursery outside Sarasota, and they suggested we stop at 4 Bees Herb Farm. We did, and had the pleasure of meeting Deborah Blount, the owner. We talked herbs and plants and had a great visit. While there, a huge turtle came walking through the yard, evidently a daily occurrence. On down the road at Crowley Nursery & Gardens I found the cinnamon tree I've been yearning for these past several years. By the third day of travel, I had to ship several of my plants home, the rest, including the tropical fruit, I carried home on the plane.

We made several new friends who we hope to visit again, and warmed our bones for the coming winter ahead. I think I could like Florida a lot, considering you can walk out the door and pick oranges, plant tomatoes NOW instead of next May, and even garden a little all winter long. Now, if I could just find a little cabin somewhere in that nice, warm state, I'd probably go there for the winter!

Night of the Dead

I dread this night, the one that comes every year, the night that the first frost and killing freeze comes and turns the garden from green, to black, in just mere hours. I spent this late afternoon in the waning hours of fall, wandering around the garden, trying to memorize every green thing, every rose, every basil plant. It reminded me of going off to college when I was 18, driving away and leaving my pets behind. I know that as I write, everything is gasping it's last breath, the Dancing Tea, the Thai basils, the Stevia, all the currant tomatoes and blooming begonias. If they could scream, they would. Maybe they do.

Yesterday afternoon I spent gathering as much produce as I could. I cut all the pepper plants down to the ground, tied them with wire and hung them inside for the strength of the plants to go into the remaining peppers to ripen. I did the same with the figs, hoping it works as well with them as with peppers. We've had a good fig year, I've eaten well, but I'm not tired of them yet.

Josh gathered a basketful of sweet peppers and the last of the green tomatoes. He found 2 remaining cucumbers, pulled a couple dozen of the Fat Baby Achochas to save for seed from the bamboo arbor Adam and I built, and grabbed several good handfuls of the youngest asparagus beans to stir-fry.

There were several seedlings of Green Pepper Basil in the herb bed so I dug those instead of trying to bring in the larger plant, although they transplant well. I did harvest the seed for more plants in spring. I took pictures, too, to aid my memory when it's all brown and desolate and when I need a reminder that the garden will be green again someday.

I cut a good handful of Za'atar to dry, and the same amount of marjoram. And a great handful of lemongrass leaves for tea, which I'm tying into little bundles like they do in Mexico, for tea.

There was one right-sized Guinea bean, which I picked and fixed for supper, along with a couple of the last good, ripe tomatoes. My method for the New Guinea bean: Sliced it crosswise, made a mixture of an egg white and equal part milk. Dipped each slice in flour, then milk/egg white, then back in the flour and fried it (yes, fried, it's the best way for this) until nicely browned. It's crispy on the outside and still lightly crunchy inside with a hint of tartness not unlike fried green tomatoes, only better. A grinding of sea salt over the hot slices and it was a welcome last day of fall treat.

Tomorrow I'm certain I'm going to complain all day about how much I despise cold weather and how I hate the color of black because it doesn't belong in the garden and everyone will want me to shut up. Once a year this night comes, followed by the shock of a garden going from green, living, to black and dead. I'd bring everything indoors if I could, but I can't be made to like this night of death.

(Shown: Black Russian and Better Bush tomato with basil, fried Guinea bean, broiled chicken and carrots).

Can You Eat a Cassabanana?

Leaves are falling without much color. Funny, that, considering 2 years ago when we had an awful drought and the leaves were beautiful. This year we had an over abundance of rain, and now, no fall color to speak of.

The rosemary plants are blooming, and the basils are all doing their best to produce seed before frost. Usually we have frost around Halloween and that's expected this year, too.

A seedling papalo sprang up in the medicinal herb bed. A reader sent a comment (listed elsewhere) that she had found papalo combined well with grape juice. I am anxious to try as I've not found a great deal it goes with. Another reader wrote that she enjoyed it crushed in water for a cooling beverage. You may recall that when Adam our friend and summer WWOOFer was here, he tried papalo in all sorts of dishes, beverages, teas nicknamed him Papalo Picasso, since he is a highly creative artist, wore great hats and played in the papalo beds. Anyoneand salads. We wanting some papalo seed to try, let me know as I'll have plenty in a few weeks. Mine came from Boliva where a friend brought it back from a native community there.

(You can click on any of the photos to enlarge them to see them better if you want).
The banana-looking plant on the left of the photo is actually a banana, the hardy variety that lives outdoors. It has outgrown the bed it's in and one of my jobs yet this fall is to dig it out and move it somewhere. I'm expecting a backhoe for some work in the driveway sometime this fall and will get him to dig a hole as it will take a considerable spot for the banana. On the right side of the photo, what looks like another banana, is actually a banana canna. Really. It looks for all the world like a banana, but isn't, and is in the canna family. It, too, has to be dug up, but it will rest in the dark and quiet of the wellhouse until spring and replanting time.

The Brunswick fig has been giving us a few ripe figs every couple of days, which is why I am anxious for the first frost to hold of as long as possible. Figs can't be picked green and ripened indoors like a tomato can. They have to ripen on the bush, then the rush is to pick the fig while soft and sweet, before the ants attack it. We've had a good crop on this plant, as well as on the Constantine fig. Brunswick freezes to the ground each winter, then comes up bigger and better in the spring. Constantine is different in that it's a 12 ft. high bush that does not die back. Both plants have excellent fruit. I added a Brown Turkey fig this year, as well and it had a few fruits and still has a few coming on. We're not in fig territory, but grow them anyway, with no actual care or attention.

One plant that is just coming into its own is the cassabana, a tropical vine that produces loofah-sized fruit. The photo here shows the female flower and the immature fruit. It would take another month or longer for the fruit to ripen. But it was worth a try and the vine is interesting on the arbor. I bought the seed at Baker Creek Seed and planted it directly in the ground last spring. Had I started the seed in February or March, I might have ripe fruit now. Having no idea what cassabanana tastes like, I don't even know what I've missed. It needs hot summer temperatures to ripen, so it will not be happy with our 40 degree nights.

Can Witches Fly When They Have Gout?

I wonder if witches can fly on Halloween if they have gout? Do they get gout from eating all those eyes of newt and spiders and boiled old hens and the water from a hundred year old stump, collected on the dark of the moon? Who knows. What I do know is gardening with gout is a challenge. Several meals in a row that were bad choices (too much beef, seafood, okra, baked potatoes with sour cream) left me in agony for a day and a night. Little did I know gout can occur in the ankle, although rarely, instead of the big toe. A mega dose of prednisone, a day on crutches and a sleepless night even with pain killers, and I'm smarter than just 24 hours ago. Normally I avoid gout by taking 1 baby aspirin a day, 1/4 teaspoon baking soda, and avoiding food that causes it. Oatmeal, cooked dry beans, gravy, liver and especially mushrooms, all can cause it to flare up with me. All in moderation and I'm fine, forget and I'm a mess like yesterday and today.


The Fat Baby Achocha vines are really producing a bounty of fruit at present. These are from my friend, Rixin in Bhutan, who found the seed for me in the Bhumthang Valley near where he lives. It may not seem magical to some people, but to me it is absolutely mysterious how I can plant seed from someone else's garden from last year, and see exactly the same plant they grew in my own garden. I've been cooking some, in fact I put a few in the Louisiana gumbo I fixed for supper 2 nights ago. They taste a bit like bell peppers only milder. Usually they are stuffed with a pork mixture and baked, with or without tomato sauce.

That next photo is of a completely different variety of Achocha, this one from Peru. Fran & Marie, readers of this blog in Canada sent the photo are growing it and are sending me seed to try for next season. It's considerably longer, thus more volume to stuff and so I'm excited about growing it. (Yes, I know, some people get excited about football games; I get excited about new food plants).

On my morning walk yesterday I found bittersweet growing along the roadside and it reminded me of the bittersweet sellers I ran across at the farmer's market in Hendersonville, NC a couple of weeks ago. Wild bittersweet is less prolific than the Asian variety, but you have to be very careful with the Asian one. It will overtake large timber trees and kill them with it's cover. That one's also invasive. I have 2 in the garden (sold to me as "American native bittersweet," which it is not). American bittersweet does not spread from the roots and is a polite plant producing plenty of berries for decoration but not becoming a pest. I used stump killer on one of the Asian bittersweets in the garden this spring and have one more to try and kill this winter. I'm still following up the sprouts on the first vine and attempting to get rid of it.

Every day without a frost is one more gift to the garden. Tomatoes planted in August have green tomatoes that may ripen if frost holds off a couple more weeks and the cucumbers Adam planted that month are producing nicely now. Still lots of green beans, some malokia, the squirting cucumber is about to produce, and lots and lots of peppers coming on. They're late but I'm drying more than I would have had time for in the summer.

The food dehydrator has been running day and night again. In the top I have the Bhut Jalokias drying, for the seed which I'll sell later. On the shelf below them are the fish peppers and Jamaican yellow peppers, mild and fruity flavored with hot seeds. I'm also drying some okra and a bunch of lamb's quarter (Chenopodium album) seed heads. The seed is excellent in my Seed Crackers as well as in biscuits. They're used much like poppy seeds but I like the flavor better. You instead of spinach as it's a better producer in may recall I grow lamb's quarter some years summer and has less oxalic acid than spinach (so less of that teeth on edge flavor of spinach).

All in all, it's been a good week in the garden, with lots of produce still coming on to harvest. The late fig is producing a few figs every day or two and I enjoy every bite of those. Happy gardening and thanks for visiting!

Where'd September Go?

I love to travel and come by it honestly. My Grandma Harper, when she was alive loved travel, as well. All you had to do was walk into her house and say, "Grandma would you like to GO..." and before you could reveal the destination, she would be out of her chair, saying, "Let me get my coat."

From Garden Writers of America conference, we flew home. I quickly did the most necessary business jobs, didn't even unpack my bags, but put them in my truck and drove east for a friend's wedding in Hendersonville, NC. Yes, the same area where gas shortages were so severe, lots of people were stranded. I carried filled gas cans in the back of the truck and made it ok.

While there I visited Connemara, the Carl Sandburg home and gardens in nearby Flat Rock, NC. His wife, Lillian, loved goats and took special interest in the breeding and raising of her goats. She called her animals the Chikaming herd, which included Nubians, Saanens, and Toggenburgs. An Abe Lincoln re-enactor was there, commemorating the Sandburg book on Lincoln.

The nearby town of Hendersonville, as a fund-raiser for local charities, produced dozens of fiberglass goats and parked them around the downtown area. Local businesses and individuals "adopted" the goats, painted them and kept them on display, to be auctioned off with the money going to the charities. It is a way of honoring Lillian's Chikaming herd.

The National Park Service administers the Sandburg home, where the family lived until Sandburg's death in 1987, and the gardens remain in the same location as when the Sandburgs lived there. A scarecrow welcomes visitors who are on their way to visit the goat barns.

On the way to the wedding, I found myself at the starting point, Lebanon, TN, of an annual Hundred Mile Yard Sale, which goes from Tennessee into Virginia. Never one to miss a yard sale, nor an event (thanks Grandma), I had to stop and shop. What an amazing experience it was, too. I bought myself a great sun proof garden had for a buck, a shelf for the bathroom and a brand new 2-wheel dolly for moving large objects. I had to get on my way to reach the wedding festivities, but admit to being tempted to do the entire 100 mies.
(You probably realize you can click on any photo and enlarge it. Enlarge the garage sale pic to see some of the things I could have bought!)