Of Gardens and Reading and Finding Peace

It's a cool, drippy morning, perfect for slowing down and taking time to write. The past week was a blur of traveling to storytelling performances and putting up food that our abundant garden has been producing in our absence. All good things, but allowing little free time to stop and reflect.

We have laughed many times in the last few weeks over the garden we almost didn't plant because we were worried about whether or not we could maintain it after Larry's knee surgery. We thought we'd just plant a little "eating fresh" garden. Right. That plan flew out the window early on, and we planted almost as much as we have in past years. The only thing missing is the pumpkin patch.

Cucumbers have been incredibly productive this year. Last year I could not get enough of them even for just eating fresh, but this year Larry is picking them by the five-gallon bucketsful.

I've made over 50 quarts of dill and bread and butter pickles so far, and another bucketful is waiting for me today. Yes, I'll make more pickles because who knows what might happen next year?

We've also had lots and lots of yellow squash and zucchini. Some of these got big so quickly that they had to be chopped up for the chickens--who by the way are eating sumptiously these days! Yesterday I made stirfry with the squashes, onions, garlic and peppers from our garden, added carrots and celery from the store and pork from the hog we bought last year. Some soy saucer and other seasonings and 8 quarts were ready for the freezer after we'd eaten some for our dinner. I sauteed the carrots first, then the meat, then the rest of the veggies until just barely tender. It will be good eating this winter.

Tomatoes are coming in now too. I put up the first batch of pasta sauce this week. I'm cheating these days and using Mrs. Wage's sauce mix, which has all the spices and herbs already in it. It's so easy and so good, and much faster.

And corn--Larry picked the first corn Friday, and we put seven bags in the freezer and had plenty for a real summer supper of tomatoes, corn and cucumbers. He pulled the stalks yesterday and gave them to the chickens to peck over, and then tilled the ground and planted a few hills of late squash and seeded some kale, lettuce, and turnips. The second planting of corn should be ready next week. With the steady showers today, the new-planted seeds have had a good settling in, I hope.

I've been interspersing my canning bouts with reading The Good Earth by Pearl S. Buck, a West Virginia native who won the Pulitzer prize for this novel. I read it years ago, so it's time for a re-read. I am struck by the fine writing, such attention to and knowledge of the details of Chinese life in the early 1900's. Buck's parents were missionaries in China and it's obvious that she absorbed and loved the culture of the country. It's rare today to find an author who writes with such beauty and depth. Most novels today seem formulaic and rush along with lots of action and cardboard characters. I have trouble getting absorbed in modern novels, but the older classics are classics for very good reason in my opinion.

One reason I am re-reading this book is that I will be teaching a storytelling workshop at the Pearl S. Buck birthplace on October 20th as part of the Cal Price Appalachian Enrichment Series. I want to be more familiar with Buck and her work for this workshop and it is one of those tasks that is a true pleasure. The workshop will focus on ghost stories but will be helpful for anyone interested in how to research and create compelling stories. I find that I am learning more about my own topic from Buck's novel as I note her attention to folklore and superstitions, to description and historic context.

Time to quit rambling and get back to work. With all the crazy news coming out of Washington this week and the various disasters all over the world, I find grounding and reassurance in the dependable garden, the demands of the hummingbirds for the feeders to be filled, the cackling of our contented hens, in the coming of rain, and in the art of Mrs. Buck's writing. While the world of man rocks on its crazy way, these homey things continue on their steady way, and I am glad to be able to turn off the world and sink into the luxuries of home.

Copyright Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.