Showing posts with label ozark. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ozark. Show all posts

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

Love Medicine


Meet the Great Blue Lobelia (Lobelia siphilitica). It is an autumn flower, uncommon but of course we have it here, growing over a small stream (see photo of its environment below right; the lobelia likes "seepy areas"). The wildflower ID book I rely on reveals its old-time uses:

"The Mesquakies used great blue lobelia in love medicines. The roots were finely chopped and mixed into the food of a quarrelsome couple without their knowledge. This, they believed, would avert divorce and make the couple love each other again. Other tribes used root tea for syphilis..."

The book: Kurz, Don. Ozark Wildflowers: a Field Guide to Common Ozark Wildflowers. Helena, MT: Falcon, 1999. ISBN 1-56044-730-3.


Monday, March 30, 2009

Ants in the Pants

Pictured: Dutchmans' Breeches -- don't they look like starched linen? -- blossoming today behind the Divine garage. This spring flower has everything: it's toxic, rare, has a very short season, is fascinating and is perfectly nicknamed for its unique shape.

And. . . these perennials spread not by seeding or runners but ANTS. Ants spread the seeds for Dutchmans' Breeches, and that's God's truth. The slope behind the garage was maybe too wet this past year for ant colonies to flourish, because there's usually a drift of Dutchmans, and this year I count only three plants. Also I could have missed the main season and these are late ones. They are a weird little delight.

I don't touch 'em. These (Dicentra cucullaria) give some people dermatitis. And don't eat 'em. The bulb is poisonous.

Monday, February 23, 2009

Waterfall #5


Waterfall #5, a drop of about 20 feet, is its most dramatic when the water's frozen, as it was today. Last in the Waterfall Photo series.

Monday, February 16, 2009

Her Ladyship

Lady Pileated Woodpecker now takes her daily brunch at my suet cake. An honor to have her, after several months without seeing her. She winters here but did not dine here. Yet she did "call" me from the treetops every day. Lord Woodpecker must be nearby. Photographed this through the screen because it'll be a while before I can slowly regain the confidence of Her Ladyship, get closer, and photograph her without barriers between us. She has an enviable cap and great feet.

Friday, February 6, 2009

Signs of Spring This Week

1. Goldfinches molting, turning from olive and gray to bright Easter yellow.
2. Today (Feb. 6), the year's first cardinal whistling/mating song.
3. Today the blue jay calling in the treetops -- sounds like dice rattling in a cup. I bet he was looking for a mate as well.
4. Bunnies suddenly appearing from their magical nowhere.
5. Buds on trees, but especially on the dogwoods.

Thursday, January 22, 2009

Waterfall #4: The Double Waterfall


Usually hidden from view by greenery, this double waterfall on the property can be photographed only in winter. The water here has turned to ice.

Thursday, December 25, 2008

Wald Hickory Nuts is Good Eatin'

Christmas is the day to crack nuts and eat 'em. The hickory-nut crop collected in October I kept out on the porch until they were nice & dry and the shell gives up the nut easily -- or as easily as it can considering I crack 'em open with a meat mallet -- you know, one of them you use to flatten chicken breasts, or beef for what they call tornadoes in the restaurants. The nut is sweet and tasty. Rather eat those than candy. Although if you got candy I'll force myself. And I'll thank you to hand me off that turkey leg. Merry Christmas.

Saturday, December 20, 2008

Sammy Strikes Again

Remember Sammy, unsuccessful suitor of Shelley? Well, he snuck down our road in his blue pickup this morning, and I knew he was fixin' up yet another holiday display for the woman of his dreams. Garlands, ribbons, wreaths, tinsel, Santas, etc. This photo ain't the half of it. True love. I hope Santa brings poor Sammy a new girlfriend. This year Santa brung me David, and I don't want nothin else.

Monday, December 8, 2008

Self-Reliance

"Ain't nobody gonna do it for me."

That's what I tell myself when I'm in a "situation" or a jam. Like yesterday, had to carry an 8-foot wooden ladder. Weighed quite a bit and awkward. Then I had to arrange it upright against the house. It took everything I had. I even had to let it go and drop it once, it was so heavy. And then I had to climb it. And then get back down. There was no choice. But I tell myself, "Ain't nobody gonna do it for you," when I need, but don't want to:

-move an item weighing more than 50 pounds
-climb on the roof
-jump
-negotiate a steep incline or slick pathway when there's no other way
-find my way when lost in the woods
-get the gun
-use a power tool
-keep moving when injured
-repair something
-confront a trespasser

Wish there were magic lamps with genies inside that would come out and do things for me, but there ain't. Today after looking all over for advice, and just about giving up and taking it to the man, I fixed the CD drive on my computer all by myself.

Saturday, November 29, 2008

Look Who's Here to Cheer

In these dreary days counting down to the Solstice (not so far away) some vivid color is thrilling. Today I saw -- the bluebird pair! They often winter here, but not in the box. Maybe this year?


Saturday, November 15, 2008

A Lesson in Warmth

The Divine cabin is well-built; it’s just that it’s 70 years old, with two tacked-on rooms built in 1969 and 1991 – and the doors are a bit warped, and the windows old, loose or off, or single-pane (no storm window). Spring, summer, and fall here are glorious, but I’ve always dreaded winter.

Until David came last week to winterize the place. Oh, I’d always done the plastic-over-windows stuff, but I still spent last winter straddling the electric heater just to keep warm – wearing hat, legwarmers and fingerless gloves. I’d stand there like that to do my reading, telling myself, You wanna live out here – you have to be tough.

Well, this prince among men caulked up the window frame that let winter winds whistle over my bed. And he did bunch of other stuff, like help me plastic the windows, and fixed my old furnace’s thermostat. There's a level inside filled with mercury called the heat anticipator. The level wasn’t level. Just a tap fixed it and corrected the whole system. Won’t be using so much propane.

I’d been shutting off rooms to keep warmth in some and cold in others, and David pointed out that because there’s only one air-return – located in the living room –I should open the interior doors to keep warmth circulating.

Then he weatherstripped the doors, some warped to the tune of half-inches and inches – “hellacious,” in David’s assessment. I could feel the difference right away.

He had to go shopping with his sister, so he left me the caulking gun to do some other, smaller jobs. Thank you, David, for your knowledge, advice, common sense, and skill – you should see how flawlessly he caulked! Thank you for the warm house!

Saturday, October 25, 2008

Autumn Postcard

Dear Reader: I took this today, down the road a ways. Thought of you, and wished you were here. Love, Divinebunbun.

Wednesday, October 8, 2008

Ya Think He Kinda Likes Her?

Neighbor Shelley's suitor has been courting her for over a year. She pays him no mind. So Sammy gifts her with all sorts of artistic creative floral arrangements he builds and leaves at the gate of her driveway. Once he gave me a wonderful hanging plant that he had extra. Shelley lets the stuff rot right where Sammy left it. It's such downright odd behavior that I think Sammy might be her ex.

Sammy stops in front of my house if he sees me workin outside, and is polite, and asks me if I've seen Shelley, and where she might be these days.

This morning I saw a van come and go, and later I saw that Sammy had outdid hisself on this Halloween display. He brought in bales of straw, mums and pumpkins, the cornshocks and skull, the cobwebs he draped over the arrangement and the bushes. If I were her I'd at least give the man the time of day.

Friday, October 3, 2008

Hen of the Woods


At the base of an oak tree, far into the woods, I found this "choice"-grade edible mushroom, Hen of the Woods (Grifola frondosa), my first ever. Was I thrilled! Recognized it at once from studying fungi manuals. Got the scale and weighed it in at 24+ ounces. Beautiful.

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

A Rare Look at Indian Pipes

"Fleshy" like mushrooms, Indian Pipes feed themselves from leaf mulch, but they aren't fungi; they're flowers. They're colorless because they haven't got any chlorophyll. The thick stems are a little narrower than a drinking straw, and a "bell" about the size of a bluebell hangs down on the end. Occasional in the Ozarks, they say, but I found this clump right down the road. Scientific name Monotropa uniflora. Thought they were fungi to add to my fungi photo collection. Instead I got my first-ever look at Indian Pipes.

Sunday, September 14, 2008

Wald Hick'ry Nuts

Today I hauled myself up to the pump house roof and picked shagbark hickory nuts, and here's the basketful, in their green husks. Some hickories' nuts are bitter, but shagbark is the one for eatin'. When the husk dries and splits, the kernel shows, a light beige. It dries out and turns brown. Inside the kernel is the edible sweet nut. (See the second picture.) Lots of folks say it's such a trial to get the kernel off it ain't worth it. But this ain't the year to waste food!

If you won't take that trouble for the nuts, at least gather the split husks and dry them out and throw a load of 'em on your fire next time you smoke or grill.

Usually I leave the hickory nuts for the turkeys and the squirrels (they throw the husks down from the tree at me), but how often in life are you gonna pick and dry out and crack and eat wild hickory nuts? And the real trick to cracking 'em is patiently wait till November when the kernels will be really dry and crackable. All in its own good time.

Monday, July 28, 2008

The 20-Foot Waterfall



Back in the woods is an intermittent stream. On its way to LaBarque Creek, the stream makes a leap and then plunges down a sluice, 20 to 25 feet in length, that in size and shape resembles a water slide, and ends in a fresh cold pool. The way to get there and see it as I did today is to bushwhack through steep, rocky, jungly, and pathless Eastern Ozark terrain. Or you can see the photos, the first I've ever taken of this secret, unnamed waterfall.

Saturday, July 5, 2008

Deep Woods Mushrooms

Living in the Missouri oak and hickory forests, you learn how to read animal tracks and identify trees, how to beat poison ivy and where to find edible berries, and all about wild onions and greens. Now I'm starting to learn about one of the most mysterious of life forms: mushrooms and fungi. If you want, you can learn with me! Mushroom ID guides tend to be big and bulky -- so I just took photos and ID's them at home. Growing on the fallen log you see False Turkey Tail. The pink stem and beautiful tutu belong to the poisonous Sweating Mushroom -- I think -- or it may be a Bulgarica. I wouldn't think of eating any of them without having been formally introduced!

Tuesday, June 3, 2008

Crazy Like a Lawnmower, Part 2

Honestly, my dad didn’t sire a moron. It’s just that he never asked me or any of his other kids, all daughters, to do the mowing, nor did he show us how. He would have been ashamed, my mother says, for the neighbors to see teenage girls doing a man’s job.

Then I grew up and had landlords, and then a boyfriend. A true friend is one who will 1) mow your lawn and 2) help you move house.

Well, you learn something new every day, so I guessed my mower wouldn’t start in the middle of the grass because it WASN’T GETTING ENOUGH AIR in its CHOKE, and sure enough it started up roaring after it was back on the asphalt, and I felt like a genius. I knew about the CHOKE because 30 years ago I regularly drove a ’64 Chrysler that wouldn’t start unless I put my finger down its choke.

The Divine lawn has five sections, three of them sloped. Beginning the mowing on a slope was a mistake.

Certain bare patches were thick with dry oak leaves matted up like corrugated cardboard. Boldly mowing right through them spawned a ferocious dust storm. After several of those, the mower quit, and I guessed at once that I had abused its air filter. The filter sits on the top of the mower, in a closed and fitted black plastic case, and I still can’t see how air ever gets in there. But after securing a dime to unscrew its top I got mentally lost in the beauty of the coin, and in the many reasons why I admire FDR, and then in contemplating, really for the first time, the torch and plants on the coin’s reverse. Then I removed the top of the case and rinsed out the air filter. I left it to dry in the sun on top of the pumphouse and quit for the day.

A pow’ful ornery attack of hay fever laid me out flat the next day, and that’s why there aren’t any Rugged Rural Missouri blog entries between May 19 and June 2. My mowing ensemble had included sturdy shoes and protective eyewear (“eyewear”? What a word!) but not a breathing mask. God, how stupid I was two weeks ago compared to how smart I am today.