Old Wood and Patience

An ancient Chinese proverb says "If you are planning for a year, sow rice; if you are planning for a decade, plant trees; if you are planning for a lifetime, educate people."

Lilac flowers on old wood. A new lilac, or a pruned lilac often produces few or no flowers for many years. Growing lilacs takes a patient gardener.

It also has been said that you plant a grapevine for your children, and an olive tree for your grandchildren. Interestingly, the lilac is in the olive family (oleaceae).

Our lilac was transplanted from starts given to us about twenty years ago by an old friend, Leo, and his sister, Helena. The seedling was probably about four to six years old, and it has grown another twenty since then. Some things just take time to cultivate. Lilacs are one of those things.

While most flowering plants and bushes flower more profusely when pruned, the lilac does quite the opposite, blooming more profusely when left alone to grow naturally. Pruning generates more wood and green, but a lilac left alone for a few decades will reward the gardener with a spectacular show of color and scent.

Lilacs are another old world plant, brought by immigrants, and typically planted by their front door. Lilacs were cultivated by both Thomas Jefferson and George Washington.

In lore and literature, the lilac symbolizes love. Interesting metaphor for the lilac -- if lilac does represent love, the metaphor is that sometimes it just takes time for love to bloom. The concept of restraint and patience would be important. By not forcing the love by pruning and cutting, the fullness and beauty of the bloom emerges, and love happens naturally.

We do not want you to become lazy, but to imitate those who through faith and patience inherit what has been promised. Hebrews 6:12

Life is Like an Onion...

Life is like an onion. You peel it one layer at a time, and sometimes you weep.
Carl Sandberg

The chives from our kitchen herb planter are now growing and ready to snip, adding a last minute burst of flavor to whatever we are eating. In the garden, the onion sets have been planted. This year we have planted red and yellow onions, shallots and chives, all part of the grand tribe.

The onion tribe: chives, scallions, leeks, shallots, garlic, pearls, red, yellow and white onions. The grand and glorious onion is part of almost any main course, whether as a vegetable or a garnish.

The onion history: Chives (allium schoenoprasum) are the only in the allium genus native to the old and new world. Otherwise, the onion is an old world plant, documented to have been around for many thousands of years. It had been a symbol of eternity for the ancient Egyptians -- a sphere composed of multiple layers. Ancient Greek athletes ate massive quantities of onion to balance blood for sport or battle. Roman gladiators used onion as a rub to increase strength. Legend tell of chives used by Romanian gypsies in fortune telling.

The onion as remedy: Almost any ailment is thought to be cured by the onion by some culture in history. Through history it has been used to treat sore throat, headache, brittle bones, as a diuretic, an aphrodisiac, and much more.

The Onion Laws: Some crazy laws have been enacted regarding onions, though it is doubtful they are enforced. For example, in Nacogdoches, Texas young women may not eat raw onions after 6 p.m. See other onion laws: www.aggie-horticulture.tamu.edu/plantanswers/onion/onionlaws.html

The onion metaphor is rich. Like Sandburg observes, the layers of the onion reveal the dimension and fullness of life, and the observation that, like the onion, the dimension and fullness and "layers" of life make you weep is so true. But more than that, the onion is part of the heart of the meal, offering full flavor to the most bland, or springlike garnish as an accent. In the Numbers verse below, we see that even the manna from heaven was without flavor. It was the absence of the leek, the onions and the garlic that was lamented by the Israelites.

If our life is like an onion, how can we add that richness and fullness and flavor to all that surrounds us?

We remember the fish we ate in Egypt that cost nothing, the cucumbers, the melons, the leeks, the onions, and the garlic. But now we have lost our appetite; we never see anything but the manna. Numbers 11:5-6

Columbine and Forget-Me-Not

"Oh God, Help Me," the young girl screamed in terror.

"Do You Believe in God?" the shooter asked.

"Yes," she replied.

Valeen Shnurr, Age 18

Columbine massacre survivor

Eleven years ago on April 20, 1999, we shared a collective gasp at the carnage and horror of the Columbine High School shootings. We grieved as a nation, and shared a sense of helplessness. As the funerals began, on April 24, 1999, I remember being moved by a parent who asked that people not forget their children.

And so later that day, I began working the earth, planting what would become a memorial garden patch for the victims and their families. Every year as the April sun warms the earth, and the flowers begin to bud, I remember -- and in reading this, today you will remember also. This garden has come to serve as a little outdoor meditation area -- a place to pause from the hurried pace and remember the fleeting nature of life.

Although I will most likely blog at a later date about individual plants in this small garden, here is an introduction to the Columbine garden, which is tucked in a shady corner, hidden from full view. The garden features:

Columbine -- the reference is obvious

Forget-me-nots -- the flower of remembrance

Bleeding Hearts -- shade perennial in the shape of a heart with a tear drop falling from it

Lily of the Valley -- sometimes called "Mary's tears" which fell to the ground at the crucifixion of Christ. Legend has it that this plant is a sign of Christ's second coming.

The garden is nested in an arc of arborvitae, which is known as the tree of life. The tree of life is mentioned in Genesis 3:22, and should not be confused with the tree of knowledge of good and evil. Symbolically the tree of life is Jesus Christ.

Through their attributes and the course of human history, plants have meaning. My Columbine garden shares promise and hope by telling the story of redemption. For any of my gardening friends wanting some plants from this garden, stop by for some starts.

"Down the middle of the city street, on either bank of the river were the trees of life, which bear twelve crops of fruit in a year, one in each month, and the leaves of which are the cure for the nations." Revelation 22:2

Lemon, Dandelions and Pasta

If fate hands you a lemon, make lemonade.

There is really nothing at all in the garden to harvest at this time of year. So, in my sincere desire to eat from the land as much as is possible, I am forced to be adventurous. Making "lemonade" from the only thing to harvest right now: parsley, chives, lavender, rosemary and -- dandelion.

As promised in my last blog entry, dandelions are now part of the harvest. We ate them last night with oil and vinegar, and were surprised. They were tender and peppery, much like arugula. My recipe for dandelions tonight is a new creation from an old favorite, remotely like an old favorite Lemon Pasta recipe from Ina Garten. I am not sure that lemon-dandelion pasta is an appetizing name. So I think I will call it Sunshine Pasta. What do you think?

2 c. cherry tomatoes, halved
1/4 c. red onion, chopped
2 c. dandelion leaves, rinsed.
2 T. olive oil
1 t. garlic, minced
1/2 c. grated Parmesean cheese
1 lemon, juiced and grated for zest
Katamala olives (optional)
1 c. heavy cream (or milk -- I use 2%)
1 lb. fusilli pasta, cooked

Saute olive oil and garlic. Add onion and cook slightly. Add cherry tomatoes, until warm, but not cooked. Add milk. Add lemon juice and lemon zest. Salt and pepper to taste. Cook pasta until desired firmness. In separate bowl, mix pasta, cherry tomato mixture, Parmesean cheese and fresh dandelion leaves (or arugula or spinach). Add katamala if desired. Serve immediately.

The field of dandelions is full and ready to harvest. Unexpected, abundant and nutritious food. Who knew? My grandmother did.

But he said to then, "I have food to eat that you know nothing about." Then His disciples said to each other, "Could someone have brought Him food?"

"My food," said Jesus, "is to do the will of Him who sent me and to finish His work. "

"Do you not say, 'Four months more and then the harvest?' I tell you, open your eyes and look at the fields! They are ripe for harvest." John 4: 32-35

It's a Rose, It's a Lily, no -- It's a Buttercup!

"What's in a name? A rose by any other name would smell as sweet."

William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet

The Lenten Rose, one of the first bloomers of spring, and a glorious beauty in the garden, is NOT A ROSE. It is also called the Hellebores Lily (Hellebores Orientalis). But, you guessed it, it is NOT A LILY. It is actually in the buttercup family. A shade perennial (and deer resistant, which I love) the Lenten rose blooms March through April, which explains why is is called the Lenten rose. In addition to beautiful rose like flowers, this plant has wonderful summer foliage -- perfect greens for a mid summer bouquet.

Native to Europe, the hellebores, like most plants, has historic medicinal uses (and some that are quite nefarious). It has been said that Russian folk medicine used it as an herb for losing weight. Legend has it that it was used as a purgative by Hippocrates. It is reported to have been used to treat paralysis, insanity and gout. Some of the darker legends suggest the black hellebores had been used as poison, causing a variety of symptoms and eventual cardiac arrest and death. It has also believed that Alexander the Great overdosed on hellebore, leading to his death.

The Lenten rose is deceptive in its beauty. Our plants produce a beautiful apple green flower on a dark green, leather multi-fingered leaf. But no one should be deceived by the sublime beauty of the hellebores -- it is highly toxic to all.

The metaphor is that many things are deceptively beautiful and highly desired. But sometimes the very thing we desire, lovely and innocent as it may appear, can be highly toxic to ourselves and others. And sometimes it is how we use things that are toxic, not the object itself. How do we know what is toxic and dangerous? We must study and learn well what will bring us harm. The problem then will be cultivating self-discipline.

Look after each other so that none of you will miss out on the special favor of God. Watch out that no bitter root of unbelief rises up among you, for whenever it springs up, many are corrupted by its poison. Hebrews 12: 15 NLT

Cooking Dandelions?

If dandelions were rare and fragile, people would knock themselves out to pay $14.95 a plant, raise them by hand in greenhouses and form dandelion societies and all that. But they are everywhere and don't need us and kind of of do what they please. So we call them weeds and murder them at every opportunity. Robert Fulgham

I'm thinking about cooking dandelions. They are just beginning to bloom in our back yard, and I've been told that this is the time to pick the tender stems.

Having a hard time thinking of the dandelion as a much maligned vegetable. In most of the world it is considered delicious and very much part of the menu. It has been used for many centuries as medicine for various ailments.

But for three decades we have been pulling them out and digging them out and yes, poisoning them.

I never really thought about eating them. Apparently dandelion greens and roots are rich with vitamins and antioxidants. They are said to to be one of the most nutritious greens. They have a strong diuretic quality (like asparagus) and can detoxify the blood. They have been used to treat stomach ailments and arthritis and eczema. (Though I doubt that my family doctor husband would advise this).

How to serve them? In salads or sandwiches (raw), or in soup. Dandelion wine? Dandelion tea? I just don't know. Even so, I'll try it tonight, and get back with you in my next blog. Yikes! And this doesn't compare to the food exploration of Andrew Zimmerman.

Is it a medicine? A vegetable? A weed? What do you think? The garden metaphor is (to paraphrase Dorothy Gale) if you ever go looking for the evening's supper, you better not look any further than you own front yard. Seriously. We are culturally influenced to believe that this healthy, abundant vegetable is a dreaded weed. And yet, I love arugula - and am guessing that it really doesn't taste much different than the dandelion leaf.

So neither he who plants nor he who waters is anything, but only God, who makes things grow.

1 Corinthians 3:7

Division, Daylilies and Dancing Princesses

"When you have only two pennies left in the world, buy a loaf of bread with one, and a lily with the other." Chinese Proverb

Dividing to grow, dividing to conquer, or both?

Dividing to grow. Most of our perennials are beginning to reach through the softening earth, sending their roots deeper into the ground, and their leaves and branches toward the sun. And each passing year they grow into an ever widening clump. If we don't divide, they begin to die out in the center. If we do divide, we have healthier, longer living plants, and some to give away. Two to five years is a good rule of thumb for division. A good sign that it is time to divide is when the plant has exceeded it's space.

I have been amazed at how aggressively an amateur gardener can divide--jamming a shovel through the heart of the root structure -- and voila -- you have two or three or more plants ready to go back into the ground.

Today we have started to divide the daylilies. Some have history -- given from friends and neighbors and fellow gardeners. And now we pass them again to our children and other friends. And the more we divide, the more we have to divide. Over the past several years, lilies from our garden have been divided and given to 25 or 30 other gardens. I just wish we were more careful about labeling what we plant and where we plant it. When asked what variety, I can only say, it's a daylily. And I really should know more than that.

And so the beauty of this garden metaphor is, well, obvious. If we divide and share what we have, we are healthier in all ways. The best way for us to grow is to divide? I believe that this is so. When we collect, we rot. When we share, we grow.

Dividing to conquer. The other division that is wonderful is division of labor, a great way to conquer any work project. Saturday was spent cleaning and clearing and planting and mulching. Ed, our family's lead gardener, had help from two wonderful young high school students. (Thanks, guys) The yard and gardens are beginning to take shape. The sharing of the work makes it so much more productive and enjoyable than doing it alone.

Division is really addition, don't you think?

Me -- I spent the weekend with three of my four wonderful nieces, and together we watched the children's play The Twelve Dancing Princesses. Which led to a discussion of their three favorite flowers -- the rose, the lily and the snapdragon. In their honor, I am thinking about planting a bed with these flowers this year -- just for them. I might call it the Dancing Princess Garden. And since they are curious about the blog, I promised that I would mention them in my next entry. So here it is, girls.

Consider how the lilies grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you, not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. Luke 12:27