Author: lwcmartin@bellsouth.net

I love my house and love my garden but I am shout-out-loud-Halleluja and down-on-my-knees grateful for my studio.  Nestled above the garage, it looks out over the garden in the back.  It is a space close to the house (commute time: 45 seconds) but not IN the house, making it a perfect space to work and create.

A creative space is not necessarily one for contemplation or quiet meditation.  A space like this should be energized, so you can let ideas bounce off the walls and give life to plans and schemes.  Joseph Conrad said that “all creative art is magic” and I couldn’t agree more.  But it is ultimately easier for this magic to happen if you have a great space in which to do it.

You can create in all kinds of spaces.  I have, in the past, used extra bedrooms, the dining room table, the kitchen, and a card table stuck in a hallway.  But if you can figure out a designated space, where you can leave projects half done and come back to finish later, it is a blessing indeed.

 Whether you draw, paint, stitch, weave, quilt, write or simply think about doing all these things (and more!) a special place  set aside for creativity will probably enhance your ability to make these schemes come true.

 

My studio is a record of my history as well as a place to manifest ideas.  But, even with a special place to create, magic doesn’t always happen.   The trash can in my studio is a reminder of things that didn’t turn out so well.  I am definitely NOT a doll maker, potter, knitter, or paper mache artist.

I know how lucky I am to have this space but I like to think that even without my studio,  the creative impulse would survive.  After all, it’s what you do that’s most important, not where you do it.  So, all I want for the future is to be able to continue to show up somewhere every day, hoping for that magic to happen one more time.

When he was just a little tyke, my (now 10 year old) grandson, Rivers, called the window greenhouse in my kitchen his “jungle.”  Over the years our jungle has grown significantly and is a source of constant pleasure, particularly during the cold months when it’s difficult to garden outside.

I have to admit that I have not always liked houseplants.  It seems to me that plants belong outside, under the sky, experiencing the elements. But then I inherited a host of plants from loved ones who died and received several cool plants as gifts.  And after I filled my front porch with potted plants one spring, I  could not bear to throw them away in the fall, so gradually I became an indoor gardener too.

And actually, I love it.  Especially sharing the jungle with Rivers.  This is where we can experiment.  Rivers will periodically add to the jungle by suggesting we dig up various and sundry plants outside, put them in a pot and bring them into the jungle.  I’m usually game but never know what to expect.  A 4 foot stalk of butterfly lily lasted about a month but provided a dramatic backdrop for the jungle while it lasted. As it began to die back, I quietly replanted it outside.  Elephant ears thrived during the warm months but, somehow knowing that it was time to sleep, began to go dormant as the days got shorter.

This, too, is where we can practice multiplication.  We divided a huge rabbit foot fern (which Rivers calls the tarantula plant) and potted up the divisions to give away as Christmas gifts.  We took cuttings from an 18 year old lucky bamboo, put it in water and watched roots form in a matter of days.   We took cuttings from the Christmas cactus, stuck them in water to take root and watched in amazement as a cutting put forth a single, perfect bloom this year.

When we decorating the Christmas tree several years ago, and I pulled out precious glass ornaments in the shape of dragonflies and hummingbirds, Rivers said that they should be in our jungle.  So, we hung them from fishing line and they add a touch of the exotic  year round to the jungle.

Of course all of these are wonderful lessons for Rivers but more than that, it’s a chance for me to share something living and growing with this child.  I just hope that as he gets caught up in the inevitable rush of things – soccer, school, friends, phones, computers, video games and on and on – that he’ll remember our jungle as a place of unending fun and beauty.

 

I really don’t mind the cold. Actually, I love it.  Except for this morning when I went downstairs and realized that it was freezing cold – inside.  The furnace wasn’t coming on.  What???!!! I was only kidding about liking the cold.  It’s fine for it to be 16 degrees outside as long as I’m toasty warm inside!!!

I’m so spoiled. A little cold won’t hurt me.  I’m bundled up, sitting by the fire, fingerless gloves on sewing and reading (and waiting for the repairman to come and fix the furnace).  Actually, a little cold might do me some good.  It does in the garden.  There are many plants that actually need a certain number of cold days, or “chill hours” to perform at peak production.  Chill hours refer to hours where temperatures are between 32 and 45 degrees.

It’s well known that most fruit trees need a little cold in their lives.  Peach production has been down the last two years in Georgia (the peach state!) because it simply has not been cold enough for the trees to set fruit well.  Between Oct. 1, 2016 and Feb. 10, 2017,  middle Georgia received about 400 chill hours when then needed more like 850. I’m hoping for a bumper crop this year!

Of course extremely low temperatures are also bad for the trees (and other plants), especially if they occur really early or really late in the season.  But January, when the trees are dormant, is a good time to have frigid temperatures.

If you think really cold temperatures will kill off garden bug populations, you are unfortunately wrong.  The UGA extension service says that our native insects are good at adapting to freezing temperatures.  However, my friend, Walter Reeves, says that if you want to kill some bugs, a good cold day like today is the time to do it.  Just go dig up the garden, exposing insect larvae that have hibernated in the relatively warm soils.  Or continue to sit by the fire waiting for the furnace people to come.

I think we all need to have enough “chill hours.” When we’re insulated from the weather, it’s easy to forget to stay in tune with the seasons.  Winter has always been the time to slow down and hibernate, to just sit quietly and leave the rat race behind for a while. It just took my furnace going out to remind me of the importance of chilling.

My parents, Ken and Lois Coogle, were married from 1940 until my father died, at the age of 98, in 2005.  Sixty five years!  I’m sure that there were ups and downs in that marriage, as there are in all, but I also know that my parents made a point of nurturing their friendship and their marriage.  One way they did this was to meet late every afternoon in the garden to sit and share a glass of (Dad’s homemade muscadine) wine and catch up on the day and to share thoughts and dreams and schemes.

They were an interesting couple.  My father was an engineer who retired in his mid – eighties to devote his time to woodworking.  He made beautiful turned bowls, many of which came from wood planed from trees growing on their own property in Sandy Springs, Ga.  My mother was a teacher and passionate artist.  The saying around my childhood home was:  “if you stand still too long, Mom will paint you.”

The holidays bring back a lot of memories, of course.  As I sit, waiting for Christmas, I am filled with gratitude for my parents and the many lessons they taught me.  But, perhaps the most important is to make sure that Jack and I have “Happy Hour” every day.

After my parents died, I moved their happy hour bench to my own garden but it finally succumbed to the elements and I had to throw away the pieces.

But in the tradition of family, my brother, Lee, made me a new Happy Hour bench, showing not only his own impressive woodworking skills but also the unending love of family.

My own dream is to teach my grown children and my grandchildren the importance of setting aside time for happy hours every day,  of sitting and listening, of sharing dreams and schemes and nurturing the love of family.

I hope that all of you have a peaceful and joyous New Year full of happy hours.

Laura

  Although we have a magnificent 9 foot Christmas tree in the front hall, it’s our “Charlie Brown” pine tree with a single ornament that makes me smile every time I look at it.  Maybe it’s because it was free (I just pulled it up from the woods near the lake) or because it took less than 30 seconds to decorate (as opposed to hours for the lights and more hours for the ornaments on the big tree.)

But I think that it’s just because it’s so simple.  Sitting in a clay pot on the hearth, Snoopy close by, it’s the exact opposite of the tree in the hall, overladen with stuff with more stuff underneath, so many that my little grandson asked, “are all those presents real?”

I honestly did not know if my little pine tree would live just stuck in a pot and brought into the dramatically different conditions inside the house.  After all, it had spent its short life outside, happily growing in red clay, clinging to a hillside.  But so far, it looks unfazed.

 

Pines (there are 115 species) are truly amazing trees. Scotch pines are useful both as Christmas trees and for reforestation projects due to their quick growth.  Longleaf pines, native to south Georgia were used in the turpentine and pine oil industry and also for making railroad ties.

 

My favorite pine tree, though, is one of the oldest living organisms on earth.  It is a bristlecone pine living in the White Mountains of California.  It is 4600 years old.  I am in awe of this tree and sit in wonder at its tenacity.  It gives me hope in the power of nature and that in spite of the current degradation to the environment, somehow things will hold on.  I like thinking about this pine tree, with roots so strong that it has withstood insults far worse than what we’re experiencing now.  This image helps anchor me when I’m feeling unmoored.

And maybe that’s why I like Charlie Brown’s Christmas tree.  It gives me hope.  Long after the glitter fades and the presents have been discarded, this little tree will continue to grow and thrive. It’s not the “stuff” that’s important, but the living, growing things on earth.  So though it’s not nearly as glamorous as the magnificent tree in the front hall, Charlie Brown’s Christmas tree will last a lot longer.  As Charlie Brown said, “I never thought it was such a bad little tree.  It’s not bad at all, really.  Maybe it just needs a little love.”

 

I got up early one morning last week to work.  As I sat at the kitchen counter, I glanced outside and saw a raccoon scampering up a tree just a foot away from the house.  By the time I grabbed my phone and opened the door, he had jumped to the roof.  Seemingly unafraid, he did not move but just stared at me for long moments.  I finally got cold and closed the door.

I know, it’s just a raccoon, common as church mice.  And raccoons can be pests, getting into garbage and carrying nasty diseases such as rabies,  but even so, I was thrilled to have this little wild creature right outside my door.

Raccoons are easy to identify because of their masked faces and ringed tails. They weigh 8 – 18 pounds and measure 2 – 3 feet, including the tail. Raccoons have adapted well to living near humans and large populations can be found in cities and towns. They need to live near water and are abundant along wooded streams.

Anyone who has watched the scene from the movie Elf, when Buddy tries to hug a raccoon, knows that raccoons can be downright vicious looking when provoked.  Take it from Buddy, don’t try to hug a raccoon.

Raccoons have an amazing sense of touch.  They are famous for “dousing” or acting like they are washing their food. Scientists say that the raccoon is not really trying to clean the food.  Depending on which scientist you listen to, raccoons putting their paws in water over and over again is either a means of intensifying the sensory organs in their “hands” or is simply a nervous habit, as a raccoon is constantly using its paws and apparently, it’s hard to keep them still.

The Sioux Indians called the raccoon “one who is sacred” or “one with magic,” probably because of its dark mask.  The Dakota Sioux called it wee-kah-teg-alega, “sacred one with the painted face.”

I don’t know how sacred he was, but I am happy that this little masked fellow brought a bit of magic to my morning.

 

 

 

 

 My sweet niece married this fall and I was fortunate enough to be able to do some of the flowers for her beautiful wedding.  Per her request, I made arrangements that showcased blues and purples.  The main component of the arrangements were perfectly exquisite white roses.  After the ceremony,  I pulled all the rose petals off, stuffed them in a bag and brought them home.

My love for flowers is excessive and I couldn’t bear to see all those stunningly beautiful white roses thrown in the trash.  As soon as I got home, I spread them out in a couple of roasting pans and dried them with a combination of low oven heat (200 degrees), dry air and lots of patience.  The result was a sizable bag full of dried petals which, I’ll admit, had turned a little brown in the process.

Undeterred, I mixed them with some dried lavender, lavender essential oil, rose buds and a sprinkling of orris root as a fixative and voila! Potpourris!  Placing a handful of the mixture in the center of thin organza, I tied it up with matching ribbon and made several small bags.  I now have the perfect Christmas gift for the bride, her mother and sisters.

Potpourris has been popular since the early eighteenth century.  At that time, elaborate ceramic and china vessels were created to hold the dried flower mixtures.  If, by the way, you feel “la-dee-da” saying “potpourris.” don’t.  The actual translation of the word is French for “rotten pot.”

Poutpourris are not always sweetly scented.  They can also be spicy or evergreeny.  To make these, use evergreen needles, whole spices such as cinnamon sticks (cut into small pieces) all spice and cloves and an essential oil such as pine or balsam.  Just be sure everything is perfectly dry.  This is a great craft to do with kids at Christmas time since evergreens are so readily available.  Tie up in some thin, sparkly fabric and you’ll have the perfect gift!

It’s fairly common knowledge that bananas are in trouble.  It is conceivable that there will be no bananas in our future due to the devastating effects of a nasty fungus called “fusarium.” Thousands of acres of banana plants in Australia and Southeast Asia have been wiped out and the fungus has now moved to Africa and the Middle East.  Latin America (which grows the vast majority of bananas eaten in the U.S.) is dreading its seemingly inevitable arrival.

Part of what makes this disease so terrible is that there is really only one kind of banana grown commercially, making it difficult to find new “disease resistant” strains.  The ‘Cavendish’ is our beloved yellow, curved fruit that is equally beloved by growers as it is relatively easy to grow and can be picked green to slowly ripen as it makes its way to the consumer.  But if the ‘Cavendish’  completely succumbs to the fungus, then bananas as we know them, might become extinct.

Researchers are working feverishly to develop disease resistant plants before it’s too late.  They are making progress by genetically altering ‘Cavendish’ to include genes that are resistant to this particular fungus.

I have to admit that I’m one of those consumers who goes straight for the “Non GMO,” organic and heirloom food.  I don’t want my fruits and vegetables to have been created in a laboratory.   But, given the choice between no bananas at all and one that has been genetically altered, I might not be so picky.  I really can’t imagine life without bananas.

So, while they are still abundant and relatively cheap (though I can remember my mother refusing to buy bananas if they were over 10 cents a pound), eat up! And use them to make delicious breads and pies.  My grandkids love this banana bread muffin recipe (so much so that they having given them the acronym BBMs).  I think they would still come to my house, even if I didn’t have a constant supply of BBMs, but I’m not taking any chances!  As long as there are bananas available, there will be banana bread muffins in my pantry.

I was given this recipe years ago when I worked at Callaway Gardens as a naturalist.  I am not giving away Cason Callaway’s famous banana bread recipe (which actually, I don’t have!), but I AM giving away the Callaway Garden’s bus driver’s recipe!  It’s the best, just ask Rivers and Ellie.

Banana Bread Muffins (can also be baked as in a loaf pan)

• 1 stick of butter, softened
• 1 cup sugar (or honey)
• 2 eggs
• 3 ripe bananas, mashed.  (Note:  you can put bananas in the freezer.  They turn black and nasty looking but are great to thaw and use in this recipe.)
• 1 1/2 cups All Purpose flour
• 1  teaspoons baking soda
• 1/8 teaspoon salt
• 1/4 cup shopped nuts (optional)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.  Prepare muffin pans (or loaf pans), either greasing them or using paper cupcake liners.

Cream butter and sugar (or honey).  Add eggs one at a time and beat well.  Combine dry ingredients.  Add 1/3 of the flour mixture to the butter / sugar / egg mixture and blend.  Add 1/2 the mashed bananas and blend.  Repeat, ending with the flour mixture.  Do not overbeat.  Pour batter into prepared pans and bake 15 – 20 minutes for muffins, 50 – 60 minutes for loaf pan until top springs back when touched.

 

It sounds like a recipe for soup – a little parsley, some cabbage, a little kale and – pansies! But in truth, it’s the backbone of my autumn gardening season.  Maybe more than in any other season, in the fall I appreciate gardening in the mild climate of Atlanta, Georgia.  Once the heat, humidity and bugs have passed, or at least gone dormant for a few months, I am re-energized to plant again.

Pansies and violas are pretty amazing flowers.  Planted in the fall, these will not only withstand all but the most frigid temperatures, they will also become established enough to begin growing and blooming in spring as soon as the weather warms again.  In the past several years, my pansies have bloomed intermittently throughout winter, thanks to the dubious benefit of warmer-than-average temperatures.

Both pansies and violas are in the viola genus and are also related to the violets and johnny-jump-ups.  Pansies were bred from the johnny-jump-up, native to England, to develop large, flat and beautifully marked petals.

Pansies are heavy feeders and should be treated to an application of organic fertilizer every few weeks in spring and summer.  This year, for the first time, I put out a “pansy starter” fertilizer at planting time.  I’ll let you know if it was worthwhile or if I just succumbed to great advertising at the garden shop for no reason.

Companion plantings for the pansies include parsley – useful in the kitchen as well! – ornamental cabbages and, my personal favorite, kale, which we pick and eat all fall and again starting in early spring.

So, don’t put up your trowel just yet but go out and plant some pansies!

I have to admit that I can’t always make a positive ID of the trees that I see in the woods, but I never have trouble recognizing a Sassafras tree, which has such a distinctive collection of leaf shapes that anyone can tell when they’re looking at a Sassafras.  This tree sports three  different leaf shapes – an oval, a “mitten” and a “three lobe”.

 

 

 

Early Colonists found this native tree to be both useful and delicious.  The leaves were dried and ground into a powder called “file” which is an important ingredient in gumbo.  More deliciously,  Sassafras root was used to make alcoholic “root teas,” based on recipes from the Native Americans.

During Prohibition, these alcoholic teas were banned.  Not to be deterred, Charles Hires, from Philadelphia, found a way to make the first “Root Beer.”  He kept the flavor, which came from Sassafras root and about 30 other wild roots and herbs,  took out the alcohol and replaced it with carbonation. He proudly served this at the 1876 Centennial Exhibition and it has been popular ever since, though modern root beer no longer contains actual sassafras root.

There has been a revival of the old alcoholic root tea in the form of a liqueur called “Root,” which is created from cane sugar, birch bark, black tea, orange and lemon juices, various spices and sassafras “essence.”   The FDA, several years ago, banned the use of true sassafras, which they consider a possible carcinogen.  This is one of the few true American liqueurs and one of the few spirits that is certified organic.  Reviews are enthusiastic and people say that it really does taste like old fashioned root beer.  It’s a shame that it can no longer be made from actual sassafras roots, but at 80 Proof, it probably won’t matter much after a glass or two anyway.