Grape arbors

I used jute twine to hold the branches together;winding it around both branches at the corners, in both directions. Then I used 2” to 3” screws to fasten them in place.

Betty and I both liked the way the arbors looked, so I did some more experimenting; making a trellis for a rose bush, and a bench for the garden on the south side of the house.

Pic of garden bench

If you have ever grown your own tomatoes, you are familiar with the problem of having to stake the tomato plants, to keep the tomatoes off the ground and away from worms, etc. I tried something a little different, using the fronds from the cedar trees. I surrounded the stalks of the plants with the fronds; giving the tomatoes something soft to lay on. My theory is that the cedar fronds will also hold the moisture around the plant, plus the cedar will repel some types of bugs, and worms that tunnel up from the soil. I will let you know in a future letter, how my experiment worked.

Stealthy Invaders

Every once in awhile; as a result of leafing through a wildflower identification book, I become aware of a foreign invader in our field behind our home. We have let the back acre of land go back to the birds and the bees. The variety of plant-life is staggering. When we first moved to State Street Road, our field had been mowed regularly. I continued that habit for 10 years; mowing the field at least once a week. When fuel became more expensive than caviar, I stopped mowing the field. I was only mowing it to begin with because I wanted to beautify the property. We humans always seem to think that we need to improve on nature. But nature has a better plan. The beauty is already there.

I now have a path through the field, to a stand of pines at the back. I like to walk out into the field, just to look at what is growing. Last month I wrote to you in this letter, of the trip my sons and I took up north to find the elusive morel mushroom. I mention that the morel grows practically everywhere in Michigan woodlands. Well, while I was walking around the stand of pines; looking at the wild strawberry plants, I found the biggest morel mushroom I have seen.

Pic of morel mushroom next to pop can

This was the only one that I found that day. But, I thought it was a bit of irony that I should find the biggest morel I have ever seen in the wild, in my own back yard.

I found this interesting plant next to a brush pile:

Field Pennycress, alien- note the large, round, flat, notched pods, or pennys.

I happened to have a Peterson Field Guide to Northeaster/ North-central North America, that I had on loan from our library. Here's what I found:

This is the Field Penneycress; an alien species. I did with the Penneycress, the same thing I do whenever I find an alien plant form: I pulled it up by the roots and burned it. I know I can't save the world from the Field Penneycress, but I can at least save my field from the invader.

Near a small barn in back of our home, we have a giant wisteria plant. The vines from this aggressive invader reach in every direction. The plant was well established when we moved here twelve years ago. Every spring, I find myself cutting back the tendrils that wrap around and take over virtually everything within reach. Every other year, the wisteria comes up with a dazzling display of blossoms that is quite spectacular. I need to eliminate the wisteria from my backyard, but the beauty of the plant encourages me to procrastinate.

2008 Saturday Evening Concert Schedule
Bay City State Recreation Area, Saginaw Bay Visitor Center

Last week, I stopped in at the visitor center and picked up a schedule for the 2008 season. I was given permission to pass this on to you through this newsletter. If you have never been to one of these sessions, it's a wonderful way to spend a summer evening.

Saturday, June 14, 7pm
“Reflections of the Past”, Broken Glass String Band

Saturday, June 21, 7pm
“Michigan Harmony”, Dulcimer Connection

Saturday, June 28, 7pm
“Michigan Home Street Music”, Dan Hazlett

Saturday, July 12, 7pm
Adventures in Michigan's Past”, Larry B. Massie

Saturday July 19, 7pm
Freshwater Shanty Songs & Maritime History”, Hoolie

Saturday, July 26, 7pm
“Light House Ghost Stories”, Lori Feret

Saturday, August 2, 7pm
“Come to the Fire”, John Two Hawks

Saturday, August 9, 7pm
“Songs of the Great Lakes”, Jere Stormer

Saturday, August 16, 7pm
“The Past in Person- 1941 Civilian Conservation Corp”, Micheal Deren

Saturday, August 23, 7pm
“Michigan Delight”, David McNinch

Saturday, August 31, 7pm
“The Great Lakes Troubadour”, Neil Woodward

The concert series takes place next to the visitor center. We found ourselves stopping by on our bicycles as we toured the trail and thoroughly enjoying ourselves.

Quotes

The gap in our economy is between what we have and what we think we ought to have- and that is a moral problem, not an economic one.   - Paul Heyne

Foreign Aid- taxing poor people in rich countries for the benefit of rich people in poor countries.  - Bernard Rosenberg

Martyrdom has always been a proof of the intensity, never of the correctness of a belief.
- Arthur Schnitzler

If the Republicans will stop telling lies about the Democrats, we will stop telling the truth about them.  - Adlai Stevenson

Last month, I received an email from my nephew's wife, Kelly Knight. She sent the following humorous quotes. Thanks Kelly!

When I die, I want to die like my grandfather- who died peacefully in his sleep. Not screaming like all of the other passengers in his car.  - Author unknown

Advice for the day: If you have a lot of tension and you get a headache, do what it says on the aspirin bottle: “Take two aspirin” and “Keep away from children.  - Author unknown

My mom said she learned how to swim when someone took her out in the lake and threw her off the boat. I said, Mom, they weren't trying to teach you how to swim.  - Paula Poundstone

Granny Fowler's House

In the '70's, early spring usually meant a trip to Betty's grandma's house in Cartersville, Georgia. We'd pack up the kids and a few meager belongings into the car and head to Granny Fowler's house for a week, or sometimes an extended weekend. I have always considered Granny a friend, as well as a family member. In the early years of our marriage, she excepted me as one of her own and acted as if it had always been that way. Since I was the first full-blooded Yankee in the family, some of Betty's relatives never did warm to the idea.

The kids became quite familiar with the route to our southern destination and always anticipated stopping on the very top of a high mountain outside of Knoxville, Tennessee, to check out the beautiful panorama of the mountains and take a few pictures.

The farther south we drove, the more green the terrain and the more advanced the spring was. By the time we reached Granny's house in North Georgia, spring was about six weeks ahead of our spring, here in Bay City.

In my memory of the south at that time, the yards and lawns of the old homesteads were less formal than they now are. Though Granny Fowler lived on the fringes of the city, her country-sized lot was large and varied. Everything imaginable grew in abundance with seemingly little effort from Granny.

Banty roosters and hens ran free in the yard, among and in the great magnolia trees. There were two other houses on Granny's land that she rented out for practically nothing. The pulse of life was much slower here- and was very much the pulse of life that had slowed to match the oppressive heat of the Georgia climate.

Before Granny's front porch, stood a centuries-old, live oak tree. The huge tree displayed it's history in the scars on it's great trunk and the limbs that had been smitten by lightening. The north side of it's weathered bark was covered with thick, damp moss.

Granny always made our family welcome. Even though our kids only saw her, at most, once a year, it was like Granny had been there all of the time. The old porch swing, on the west side of the house was a favorite place to be when the heat of the day was cooled by the shade of the magnolias.

Granny kept a 22 caliber, single-shot rifle near her back door to drive off a local dog or two that was attempting to eat her banty chickens. She kept bird shot loaded in the rifle and could usually hit what she was aiming at.

Betty's parents would usually meet us there, and would park their travel trailer in Granny's yard. The kids would either sleep on Granny's sofa in the living room, or in their grandma and grandpa's trailer.

Betty and I stayed in the rear bedroom of the house. The house always had a distinct aroma to it. An earthy smell. The odor of the feather pillows, the old home-made quilts and the old photos and memorabilia that filled the room, was unmistakably Granny's. Sleep came easy.

Granny always got up early and fixed a huge breakfast for everyone. Everything was homemade by someone, from the sorghum to the jelly. She would have country ham, eggs, fatback or bacon, biscuits, pancakes, toast and grits, with plenty of coffee.

During the Great Depression, Granny ran a small restaurant in Cartersville. If, for whatever reason, someone could not pay for a meal, Granny would feed them, then let them work off the price of the meal by doing odd jobs.

During the 80's, Granny's health began to deteriorate. Arthritis made it more difficult to move around. Her attitude stayed pretty much the same. She was consistently up-beat. She became quite a terror around the house with her Amigo power wheelchair. Since her sight was failing, it was a good idea to grab the cat and get out of the way when you saw Granny coming.

One of Granny's favorite activities was fishing. Set her by a pond or a river in her Amigo, and put a fishing rod in her hand, and she would content herself for many hours. She was a person who had the ability to find contentment in whatever her lot in life might be.

One hot summer evening, Granny sat with me on the side porch of her home and talked about what life was like when she was growing up. She remembered seeing her first automobile on the streets of Cartersville when she was 18 year old. She spoke of the beginnings of the Ku Klux Klan. She said that when they first appeared, they had been vigilantes, or rural law-enforcers. But as time passed, the racial hatred, and white supremacy became their focus.

Horses, of course were the major mode of transportation at the turn of the 20th century. She talked of the time when a horse-drawn logging wagon dumped its load of huge logs at the side of a road, pinning her beneath the load. We talked until the early hours of the morning. She listened and talked with equal enthusiasm and was careful not to judge anyone.

In the 70's, Granny gave Betty a hand-made sewing basket, made entirely of pine needles. I have no idea when the basket was made, but it had signs of having been used for a time even then. It is perhaps 10 inches in diameter, and has a round lid that fits perfectly at the top. Granny had obviously spent many, many hours putting this little sewing box together. I had never seen anything quite like it.