"In the Bleak Midwinter," Some Light!

I love that song, "In the Bleak Midwinter."

Oh, it's not midwinter yet, but it can feel like it when the Christmas lights come down and all seems dark. Even though the days are getting longer, January and February can still feel gloomy, especially in climes where it is cloudy and cold.  

I am extremely sensitive to light, or rather the lack of it. But even in the sunny desert, the winter days can feel dark. So, I always have a "substitute Christmas tree" ready for when the real tree comes down. I used to have a tall birdhouse on a turned table leg, but during the last move it disappeared, and so I am using a little birdcage I have, and reusing some "rice lights" or "fairy lights" that run off a USB plug. 

It uses negligible energy so it's on all day right now. I have a glittered bird's nest in there because I cannot yet let go of all the sparkle of Christmas! At night it gives a wonderful glow.

 

Morgy relaxing by the new display.

I saw on another bloggie fren's post that she has electric candles in her house year 'round. I am going to try for that idea, too! I hope some of the thrift stores will have some when they reopen this coming week.

 
And I am already at it with Valentine's decor. Just a bit! You might recall these items from last year, too.

 
We had a day of rain yesterday, unusual here. And then that cold front that's sweeping across the nation came in, and when the clouds lifted, there was snow on the mountains. 

I drove hubby up to the foothills and took some photos. We couldn't get close because the road had a gate across it. It's usually open.

Driving up to the foothills caused me to miss Mass at the parish I prefer. But God had a plan; Father Alex at the big parish had a homily I really needed to hear. It was about letting yourself feel joy, feel appreciation, despite the sadness in this world. To not feel guilt when seeking out joy and beauty. It's not a seesaw, where if you have peace and joy on one side, the other side tips up and dumps more sadness on the world! Well, he said it much better than I can. He feels that any happiness you have can help you reach out to others and combat darkness. "While you are biting into a piece of cake, don't let it turn to dust in your mouth because you think of the hungry children. Enjoy the cake and think of ways to help the hungry, and do it."

Some lore:

"When snow flies, rain falls, you see a bird on the wing, or breath is visible the first 10 days of January, so too will especial fortune and hope mark the days of the coming year."

Twelfth Night is coming! I will put up my usual post about it this week, maybe tomorrow. Don't forget to buy a new corn broom, if you can! Brooms are rather prominent in a lot of old lore.

Practical lore: 

525,600 minutes in a year! How many can you spare to help others and treat yourself kindly? 

This year, if you want to do so, get an inexpensive "planner" and on each date, write the weather, and if you feel inclined, write something you thought, or that you did. You will be glad you did, at the end of next year!

FOR THE DISORGANIZED: Get a very large box, if you are a disorganized person such as I. Get one of those photocopy boxes. Into the box, throw everything you think you might need, paperwork-wise. Receipts, notes you jot down, mail that you received. Keep it all in that box, if it has no other designated place. I used to have to dig through it constantly, but now my skills have improved and I am just comforted by it and don't often have to go rustling through it for something important. The box idea has helped a lot of young folks out on their own for the first time.

Thank'ee for stopping by! Do you know any New Year lore? What's on your mind today?

Kind regards,
Holly, The Olde Dame

Indian Summer? And Swept Paths and Yards

It is suddenly much milder than it was during the last days of October. Last night was "supposed" to have a low of 39, which is, as my husband likes to say, "Only 7 degrees above freezing!"

But instead, the low was only 50, and today had bouts of clouds but ultimately cleared in late afternoon, and was very mild and pleasant.

I went to the very old cemetery, San Albino Cemetery, I wrote about on the blog before. (<---Link) Many people were there, and many of the graves had been cleaned, and new flowers and decorations placed. 

Some of the graves had simply been "swept." 

[An aside: Did you know that in Colonial times, "swept yards" were de rigueur? Yes, no one of any account would have had grass in their yard or along their garden paths. I can remember, as a very small child in Arkansas, helping smack wetted clay soil into a hard, smooth surface along the garden paths. We always put a "slip" of clay on our paths, and raked the loose soil around the paths constantly. I have something of a "swept" yard here, too, in parts.]

This family is taking no chances. Not only is there a lovely old statue of Blessed Mother Mary gracing the grave, but a smaller statue of Mary as she appeared as the Virgin of Guadalupe has been wired onto the iron fence in front. Do you see the rotund little "mariachi" musician playing his horn to the lower right? 

I am still not used to these ground-level graves. In New Orleans, everyone must be buried in vaults above ground. I was very frightened of the idea of being below the ground! But my sister-in-law, and many visitors to New Orleans, were uneasy with all the crypts, like a stone maze, a stone city, in those old cemeteries. 

During my visit to the cemetery, I sat on a bench next to a little sign that said, "Welcome Steelers Fans." I am unsure about who the Steelers are exactly, other than being a football team, but I felt they would not mind if a neutral party sat on the bench to pray. 

I keep seeing a television advertisement with a frail-looking Joe Namath hawking some kind of Medicare supplemental policy. I was astounded: I recall him as "Broadway Joe," the good-looking, vital, sinuous quarterback of the New York Jets. Now, I could easily tackle him. 

I brought along Rosaries with me, and my favorite Rosary to pray, and on as many of the neglected, worn crosses as I could, I placed a Rosary. I chose the graves where no trace of a name remains. Sometimes families die out, even our great Mexican-American dynasties here. I had both beautiful Rosaries, and the free Rosaries from the missions. I need to get more Rosaries because dozens of plain crosses remain unadorned.

I said the Rosary many times because there are so many to pray for, so many to remember, and of course, we must remember the unremembered, if that makes any sense. Of course, God remembers us all, down to our last atom! What a comfort!

On the way home, I saw this arched gate, which I just love. It is pretty no matter the season. A "ristra wreath" adorns it this fall.

Do you have unusual cemetery traditions in your area, or strange gardening traditions, like "swept paths?"

Kind regards,

Holly, The Olde Dame

Harbingers of Fall

In reading on another (very lovely) blog, the blogess remarked that when she sees the purple wildflowers blooming, she knows autumn is around the corner. And I was struck by her observation. Yes, it's true: the blooming of the purple wildflowers is an early harbinger of fall! Oh, we have purples in spring, too; violets and Johnny-Jump-Ups and ajugas, but not the profusion of purples in the fall, mainly by dozens of types of Wild Purple Asters.

I have some in the front yard, that grew up from seed I scattered last year. Tiny finches love gathering on them and eating the seeds. These finches must be very light, as the stems on the plants are weak and droop easily. I have already thrown handfuls of seeds in the courtyard, for next year. Thousands of the asters are all along the Rio Grande. I gathered the seeds from there last year.

An early audible hint of autumn is to hear certain bird calls. When I lived in the Southeast, like clockwork would come the raucous call of the bluejay. They scream out those calls in early spring and then again when they announce autumn. Caw! Caw! When I lived in the Northwest, I would sometimes hear the honking of geese long before I saw them in their thousands, heading south. I only saw it a few times, but that was a highlight of my life.

When geese fly faster than usual, and quieter than usual, and higher than usual, it means that the coming winter will be very bad. 

I have not yet received one of my "feelings" about what the turn of the year will bring. I do think autumn will have a long "Indian Summer" this year, based on some caterpillar lore. I have seen several hawkmoth larvae much later than I should. What do they know that I don't? Nature may have told them that there will be something to eat weeks later than there normally would be.

However, those crab apples ripening so soon are sending another message! Or are they? Perhaps they are ripening so as to be able to be sown much farther than usual, as snows will be late? Or are they saying, "We must hurry; a bad winter awaits!"

To paraphrase St. Paul, "Who can know the mind of God?" 

Which reminds me! I am making a Nature Table for the lobby of the school again! I decided to make an "apple" table, with some crab apples from the Verboten Park, some little apple figurines and such that I have, and this thought (not original) printed out: "Anyone can count the seeds in an apple. But only God can count the apples in a seed."

Don't worry that I'll get in trouble with such a blantantly religious message. It is a private school!

Champie is welcoming autumn early, with a new sparkly collar. It is iridescent warm yellow, hard to tell in the photo. I made it out of a piece of a key lanyard.

I am still working on Sophie's collar. It is tapestry ribbon, with beaded parts. I just finished another little pillow-tuck, so her collar will be finished soon.

I am always looking for lore and wise words: What are the subtle signs of fall in your area? 

Today is Wash Day! Or Maybe Green Beans!

Well, it's actually almost Tuesday as I type this out. Work is so very hectic. I work late every day and barely make a dint in the pressing work! I am paid for 3 hours a day in the summer, Monday through Thursday, but work at least 8. I feel I can't let the students down. But -- while I do agree it's good to work "For the Glory of God," as the bookkeeper, I notice that while that is said, 'tis not followed, by the administration. Ahem.

But...back to washday, and I just heard the washer stop its spin, so that means into the dryer and tumbling and tumbling till good and dry. I often use the line, but not at night, and it's also RAINING in the desert (just a bit here, but deluges elsewhere). Pray we get a bit of one of the deluges, please!

We sang this song when I was young. Maybe I should re-title this post as "Green Bean Day." Oh, I run so late. My nickname, among several, was "String Bean" as a girl. We called green beans, string beans. Remember settin' on the porch, snapping beans and pulling those strings? Ah, those skinny days. Where did they go? 

Today is Monday! 

Today is Monday!

Monday, wash day,

All ye hungry brothers,

We wish the same to you!

Today is Tuesday!

Today is Tuesday!

Tuesday green beans,

Monday wash day,

All ye hungry brothers,

We wish the same to you!

and so on...Wednesday Soup, Thursday Roast Beef, Friday Fish, Saturday Payday, Sunday Church...

Here is a picture of part of my laundry room shelf. The laundry room is actually just a stub of a hall off the main hall, and what a racket when I'm doing laundry. But the shelf shows the influence of the culture here: I absolutely LOVE the smell of the Mexican laundry soaps. I put a good shake into every load, along with the Gain, the Out, sometimes a spray of Febreze, sometimes a measure of the washing soda if something has that doggy smell from my dear doglets. (My chiweenie is nicknamed "Stinkbug" and with good reason. Smelly little creature, but I love him.)

New Mexicans know how to do laundry. The air is fragrant on washdays. My neighbor long ago, an elegant and kind woman, first showed me the Ariel washing powder. Her whole house smelled so fresh and good. I throw a handful into the kitchen garbage can each time I change the liner. Not shown: Big boxes of Gain powder, ORIGINAL scent only, please!

So the washer churns and the dryer cartwheels while I am trying to catch up on the blogs and do a bit of housework, a bit of crafting, and a bit of gardening.

I have been in the desert long enough to get excited when it rains, and rush to take photos of the raindrops. 

Storm light; I love it! Some raindrops are visible in the left corner.

Whither thou goest, I will go (to stomp down baby lemon grass and onions...)

Old terra cotta planter we inherited when we bought the house....it was foretelling my new body shape...

Chi-chi-chi chive talkin'...

And my favorite "task," making pinkeeps out of my stitcheries. And NO, it is NOT too early for autumn decorating!

On our Sunday drive, we saw some pretty sights, too:

Rows of grains and sunflowers planted between thousands of pecan trees...

My future pecan pie ingredients...

Pretty horses next to the pecan groves. The flies were fierce and their tails were slashing and hooves stomping!

Someone is having a bumper crop of "tunas" (prickly pear fruit)...

View from a neighborhood called Raasaf Hills -- millionaire row -- pecan groves stretching out for miles.

Well my dear bloggie frens, have a wonderful week and I will be hopping to your blogs to read your posts! 

Kind regards,

Olde Dame Holly

Free Patriotic Printable Tags

Oh boy, I'm just getting in under the wire here!

Below is a sheet of printable tags for the Fourth of July, Independence Day!

The Fourth was probably my most favorite holiday of all as a child -- possibly -- maybe even with Hallowe'en as "favorite." I loved Christmas Eve very much, too, but the Fourth was just resplendent in my mind. 

Since I was age 10, when I asked for an American flag for Christmas, I have flown our flag at every place I've lived. 

Until recently, I had a 40-year-old shot-off firework called "Happiness Pagoda" on display. Oh, how I loved that particular firework. It would spin, rise up to three little stories, and then have a flame inside to glow through red paper windows. I never liked the loud "popping" fireworks. I liked the pretty ones and the quiet ones, the "fountains" and the "snakes" and the "volcanoes" and the "ground flowers." 

We used to buy something called a "punk" to light the fireworks. Punks burned at a slow, constant smolder. There were buckets of punks on the counters of the firework stands. Punks were 2 cents each. The smell of a punk -- I think Heaven will smell like that. These punks were maybe eight inches long, probably made from compressed cellulose if I had to guess, with some gunpowder mixed in. The smell reminds me of the incense at High Mass. In fact, now that I think of it, punks look almost exactly like incense sticks, only uncolored, always tan.

The patience of the people who waited the counters at the fireworks stands! May God have blessed them and if they are still with us, continue to bless them richly. Their patience was astounding, as a bedraggled child put up stacks of pennies, nickels, dimes, and a rare quarter, and began a long, long laundry list of little fireworks in a shy whisper. 

Out of the past, and into the present!

We had a fifty-degree drop in temperature here two days ago, and then RAIN! And it has drizzled ever since. What a blessing and a boon to the desert! I can rest easy about "my" toads in my community garden plot, at least during this weather. 

The "ditch sunflowers" below are at least 11 feet high now. They tower over all the other plots.

I did get a picture of an unusual sunflower at the plot, right before the rain started. I think it is one of the Autumn Mix sunflowers. I don't pick them, as much as I'd like to, because some little yellow-green tummied birds were feasting on the seeds of the older blooms. Tiny little birds, like dull canaries!

 

The zinnias, despite being too shaded by the sunflowers, are starting to bloom, too. They are supposed to be the "candy stripe" zinnias, but the striping is quite subtle. I think the genetics that governed the striping went kaput.

I hope you will enjoy these printable tags, which are part of a set I have up on Etsy. But here some are, free to my Bloggie Frens. "Free and worth every penny," as they say. As always, use this LINK TO THE DOWNLOAD <---- and don't try to just save the image below. It won't print nicely. The link is stored on Google Drive and it is safe, or as safe as anything can be, I do believe.

Are you prepping for the Fourth? How do you and how DID you celebrate it?

Hot-Cha-Cha

Did you ever yell just for the sheer exuberance of being alive? At the school where I work, we have been holding "Summer Camp" and sometimes the kids will just shout for joy on the scorching playground! One especially droll little girl will yell "Hot-cha-cha!" and "The heat never bothered me anyway," which I thought was a very clever riff on Frozen for a third-grader. 

Sometimes the shouts are just wordless: "OooooWeeeeeHeeeeeee" and "YeeeeeeeeeeeeeHeeeeeeeeeeee." Sometimes they almost manage a yodel or two. My father could yodel beautifully, and whistle beautifully.

I wonder if my hollering for joy days are over? Oh, I holler still. "OW, my poor knees!" and "For the love of pickles, the LIGHT is GREEN, so GO!" But those aren't joyous shouts! 

But hot weather or not, errands still must be run! Early is best, of course, which means I'm always lagging and running them in the worst part of the day. My husband hasn't been too strong lately, but has wanted to eat out, so we went to the Cracker Barrel one day and Chick Fil-A the next. I love the bunting and the porch at "The Barrel," and for some reason, the fast food places have the nicest landscaping in town, as you can see in the Chick Fil-A drive-thru pics. 

The CFA manager has misting fans rigged up for his outdoor staff, and I was glad to see it. Those kids work so hard. The first place I saw misting fans was in dairy sheds in Tucson. I think they ought to be all over but they are so durned expensive.

I like to divert and drive through some nice areas on the way home from errands, if we haven't been away from the pets for too long. This past week we stopped along one of the main irrigation ditches, the California Lateral as it's called, and took a video and some photos. Most of the year, these ditches are dry, but during growing season, they have water periodically. The homes in the deepest part of the valley have "water rights," which means they have the right to some of the water that flows along the ditches. These are the homes with the biggest trees, best trees, and sometimes even lawns.

The ditches are "attractive menaces" as they say in the insurance trade. Young people are drawn to them, as they are to the river (the Rio Grande). The Rio Grande here isn't very dangerous (you can splash right across it), but the ditches are. It's the power of the water when the "gates" or little doors are winched open to let water flow along a set route that's dangerous. The water, not that deep, is deep enough to push a person against the open gate and trap their heads underwater. The pressure of the water doesn't allow them to stand up. 

If you click on the image below, a short video should play, showing the scary water! I think Blogger did something awful to the quality of the video, but as they say, Blogger is "free and worth every penny." 

And speaking of errands, I have some to do today! One of them is to GO BUY SMOKE BALLS. Yes, even being in my 60s does not stop me from wanting to "shoot off" a few (quiet, no popping) fireworks on the Fourth! So I need to get some smoke balls before all the best colors are gone. Have a lovely weekend, I hope, and see you around the blogs!

Kind regards,

Olde Dame Holly

A Walk Through the "Bosque"

In the lower elevations of the Southwest, we don't have "woods" naturally occuring, other than those around a water source. We do have "bosques" (BOHS-kays) that form along the Rio Grande. They are just a few yards wide along the banks of the river. Some of you may not know that much of the year, the Rio Grande is just a sandy, dry riverbed in these parts. Only when the various governmental agencies "release" some water does the river run. This year, because our extreme drought is continuing, the river is very shallow. They released very little water. It's easy to walk across the river.

I drove my husband around for an outing on Sunday, and ended up going down a washboard dirt road to what is called the Mesilla Valley Bosque. I had never been before. When I lived here a long time ago, the roads were "free" and we would just take a truck down the ones that paralleled the river. But the state developed the area, with hiking trails and bird feeding and watering areas, and native plants, along with picnic areas and educational displays and buildings. We were very surprised to see how beautifully done the little state park is. 

So, come along with me as we walk around in the bird-watching area! We were told that many animals, such as rabbits and skunks, also venture up to get some water. Indeed, I startled a cottontail taking a sip. The river runs beside this bosque, but over a slight rise. The watering pans are easier for the wild animals to use than the river. I took a good look at the watering pans: They are upside-down garbage can lids! Reduce, reuse, and recyle, I guess! 

It was very hot so I could not keep my husband out in that very long. But he did walk a bit and seemed to enjoy the area. We saw quite a few black-chinned hummers but they are too fast for me and my phone camera! 

 

The entrance was very inviting.

One of the first things we saw in the birding area was a nest in the arbor.

The river is just beyond that rise. Pecan orchards are along the banks for many miles from this point.

Red and yellow yuccas in bloom. Their bloom stalks stay pretty six months.

This was labelled as a "Fairy Duster" tree. They bloom in the raw desert without any irrigation. 

Close-up of their gorgeous blooms.

Mesquite trees (known for being good wood for barbequeing and smoking meats), have little puffy yellow pompoms, but take a good look at those thorns all around them.

Hubby resting in one of the pretty picnic areas.

These strange, low-growing plants were along a mushy place where I think the river has a tunnel stretching out from the bank. The cones of the flowers were really very pretty, polka-dotted with white, but I couldn't get too close.

This is a pretty set of doors opening onto the dry side of the bosque, farthest from the river. There is some prairie and a line of salt cedars. The hiking trails go in two directions from here.

Just a little weed underfoot, but the tiny flowers were a bright shade of hot pink!

A barrel of brilliant yellow flowers bid us goodbye as we made our way back to the parking lot.

I hope you enjoyed your bosque trip! I try to find and appreciate beauty in this area, although my heart is somewhat heavy and wishes for a place more like "home" as I get older. But I do try to appreciate what the desert offers. God's handiwork is truly amazing and I work on that.

Have you ever found yourself in a place that doesn't feel like "home" to you? And what did you do? 

Kind regards,

Olde Dame Holly