A Visit to the Farmer's Market

Wednesday and Saturday mornings are very special to me.  As I have written in the past, these are the days that the Farmer's Market is open in our little strip mall parking lot.  It has done my soul good to see the booths all bustling and crowded this summer.  If it were up to me,  I would bring a lawn chair and enjoy watching the transactions of the morning.

One can learn a great deal by listening to others as they choose their purchases.  There are elderly women, who still like to can, choosing just the right cucumbers for pickles.   Some folks are seasoned veterans at picking the perfect peppers.  When the sweet corn comes in, the place is very busy with people wanting to taste the delights of summer.  From apples, eggplant and tomatoes to broom corn, fresh flowers and herbs and jellies, there really is something for everyone.  It is one of my happy places.


For the longest time I have wanted to attempt to capture the Market on film.  This past Saturday, I finally remembered the camera.  It was not one of the busier days, but then the season is winding down for some of the vendors.  Most gardens are about done.

This is one side of the area.  Armello's brings fresh Italian bread, pizza shells and rolls from Vandergrift about  45 minutes away.  The baker told me he is up at 3 am so that the bread is fresh for the Market.  And it is.  I've had their bread and pizza shells.  They are so good.  The fresh fragrance when the bag is opened is....well, uh, I guess beyond words.

These folks have quite a variety of wares; from vivid yellow flowers to honey and jams and watermelon.  They even had maple syrup.

The Hooks Family.  This is where I buy most of the veggies that I don't grow myself.  

Mr. Hooks is in the center of the picture in the "Maine" sweatshirt.  He has been very helpful answering my many gardening questions and is delightful to talk with.  His sweetcorn is the best by far.

Mussers Fruit Farm.  My "Apple Guy".  It seems they have every kind of apple, old and newer varieties.  They had pears several weeks ago that were amazing!  Mrs. Musser had blueberries for sale for the first time this spring.  These folks know each variety of their apple's best qualities.  The Mussers know which of their apples are good for sauce, baking or eating fresh.  He is a wealth of apple wisdom.  Since I am on this no sugar diet, I wasn't sure if my normal Cortland apples would be the best for my applesauce this year.  When I asked him about canning sauce with no sugar, he recommended Ida Reds. The result was perfect.  It is nice and thick with a great flavor.  I headed back for another bushel a week later.  For his other apple choices, he says the Cortlands are still his pick for a drying apple.  Empires are his favorite eating apple.  I've seen folks buy quite a bit of their grapes, too.  I can't wait for the cider!  It's pure, unfooled around with, nothing added--or taken away--cider.

There are not many weeks left until just the Mussers will be at the Market.  They will be there until Christmas with apples and cider.  At that point, I wait until the late spring to see the delights of the Market.

O DIVINE REDEEMER,
Great was thy goodness
   in undertaking my redemption,
   in consenting to be made sin for me,
   in conquering all my foes;
   Great was thy strength
   in enduring the extremities of divine wrath,
   in taking away the load of my iniquities;
Great was thy love
   in manifesting thyself alive,
   in showing thy sacred wounds,
      that every fear might vanish, and every doubt be removed;
Great was thy mercy
   in ascending to heaven
   in being crowned and enthroned
      there to intercede for me,
      there to succour me in temptation,
      there to open the eternal book,
      there to receive me finally to thyself;...
Great was thy grace
   in commanding me to come hand in had with thee to the Father,
      to be knit to him eternally,
      to discover in him my rest,
      to find in him my peace,
      to behold his glory,
      to honour him who is alone worthy;...
When thou art absent all sorrows are here,
When thou art present all blessings are mine.

--A selection from Victory, from the book, The Valley of Vision.



 

9/11 and God

For your reading pleasure:  A Shocking Day That Neither Shocked nor Surprised God.

Childhood Memories -- A Craft From the Past

Of course, there is the usual grass cutting, garden weeding and tomato canning, but I've been busy reliving my childhood...

A few months ago, I had delivered a meal to a friend and their puppy promptly chewed two of my old, but loved potholders.  My niece had made some for me a long time ago.  I always loved making these as a kid and when I needed replacements the store bought ones just didn't cut it.  They just don't seem to stand up to the heat from the oven like these good ole ones do.

When I was telling my husband about my dilemma of trying to find decent potholders, he went online and found a kit with the whole works.  Frame, directions, helpful metal weaving tools and enough bright cotton loops to make two potholders.  This is the beginning of the first one that I made.

This is potholder #1!

This project brought back many memories from my childhood.  I loved weaving these--creating patterns with the colors--then, I remembered how difficult they can be to remove from the frame.  That brought back memories, too...the ones when I would get frustrated and yell and want to pitch the whole thing....yeah, those wonderful memories.  I did have to fight with this one getting it off the frame.  The second was a great deal easier.  I had left it on the frame for a couple of days knowing that I wanted time to put up a good fight.  Well, it seems that letting it sit for those two days helped a ton.  No fighting!  Lesson learned.

It was interesting for me to remember my frustrations as a kid and, thankfully, see that I'm no longer so easily frustrated and how God has grown me.

There is one problem, it is not all that big of a problem, really.  There have been quite a few admirers of my new potholders.  I may need to find a larger bag of loops to make some for gifts!  This is potholder #2.

P.S.  I realize that today is the 11th anniversary of the attacks on America on 9/11.  It remains a day of reflection and remembrance.  I cannot forget the horror of that day and how we have all been changed by such an attack.  God, however, was not asleep.  He is sovereign.

"My Father,
Enlarge my heart, warm my affections, open my lips,
   supply words that proclaim 'Love lustres at Calvary'.
There grace removes my burdens and heaps them on the Son,
   made a transgressor, a curse, and sin for me;
There the sword of thy justice smote the man, thy fellow;
There thy infinite attributes were magnified,
   and infinite atonement was made;
There infinite punishment was due,
   and infinite punishment was endured.
Christ was all anguish that I might be all joy
      cast off that I might be brought in,
      trodden down as an enemy
         that I might be welcomed as a friend,
      surrendered to hell's worst
         that I might attain heaven's best,
      stripped that I might be clothed,
      wounded that I might be healed,
      athirst that I might drink,
      tormented that I might be comforted,
      made a shame that I might inherit glory,
      entered darkness that I might have eternal light,
My Saviour wept that all tears might be wiped from my eyes,
      groaned that I might have endless song,
      endured all pain that I might have unfading health,
      bore a thorned crown that I might have a glory-diadem,
      bowed his head that I might uplift mine,
      experienced reproach that I might receive welcome,
      closed his eyes in death that I might gaze on unclouded brightness,
      expired that I might for ever live.

An excerpt from "Love Lustres At Calvary" from The Valley of Vision. (This selection is the favorite of my friend, Bill, who would, at any given opportunity, read from The Valley of Vision during Worship.)


Here is a a selection from "Valley of Vision" a CD of songs inspired by the book, Valley of Visions.  This song is based on this selection.  It is called "How Deep".
      

Mr. President, I Built This

I stumbled on this video put together by Bristol Palin, Sarah Palin's daughter.  It certainly made me smile.  What a wonderful response to Mr. Obama's remarks about the government building businesses.  I'm certainly glad that there was a farm mentioned--and from Pennsylvania at that!

Mr. President, I Built This


We are surviving the drought.  God, as always, has provided for us through our little garden, which we consider important to our living a more healthy life.  We also consider it important to help get us through these economic times.   It is good to have more than enough so that we are able to share with friends.  Food prices are only going up, it appears.

Pride is so subtle, that it can gather strength even from those gracious manifestations which seem directly calculated to mortify it; so dangerous, that a [besetting sin] may be esteemed a mercy, if overruled and sanctified by the Lord to make or keep us more humble:  therefore, though we can never be too earnest in striving against sin, too watchful in abstaining from all appearance of evil, and though those who wait upon the Lord may confidently hope that he will preserve them from such things as would dishonor their profession in the sight of men; yet I apprehend those who appear most to adorn the Gospel in their outward manner of life, are conscious of many things between the Lord and their own souls which covers them with shame, and that his tenderness and mercy to the, notwithstanding their perverseness, constrains them with admiration to adopt the language of Micah, "Who is a God like unto you, who pardons iniquity, and passes by the transgression of the remnant of his heritage?"  -- John Newton   (they wrote long sentences in those day!)

Garden Tool Quiz

Do you know what this is?

When I was growing up, we called it a hand cultivator.  It was used in our garden from the time I can remember.  Ours did not have the multiple attachments, just the prong thingy that is in the middle of the picture.   Since dad didn't want it anymore, for sentimental reasons, I nabbed it.  I always used it and liked it.  Yeah, I know, how weird is that?  Most people would prefer a "real" tiller.   I still have this darling antique.  The center prong is missing, but it still gets the job done.   Since our little Mantis tiller isn't working (something about gunk and a carburetor), I've been using this old one.  It looks like this only with more dirt ground into the wooden handles and a bit of rust on the wheel.  It is a great upper body workout, for those who are interested in such things. I'm probably just old-fashioned or maybe I just like to live in the past, (sometimes, I still like my telephone and running water) but there is something satisfying about using this old cultivator.  It helps me remember my dad, who taught me about planting and caring for a garden.  Who taught me about putting up fence and burning horns off calves.  He taught me about loving the country.  There I go getting nostalgic. It was a lovely, cool evening.  Perfect for working in the garden.  Garden work is usually preferable to cleaning the bathroom.  Bathroom cleaning is important, too, It's just that I would rather be outside.  I was able to get half of the upper garden worked up this evening. The happy news around here is that my John Deere, while repairs are yet to be completed,  is about done with her surgery and just needs to be stitched up.  That can't happen soon enough. Giver of All Good, Streams upon streams of love overflow my path. Thou hast made me out of nothing,    hast recalled me from a far country,    hast translated me from ignorance to knowledge,                                  from darkness to light,                                  from death to life,                                 from misery to peace,                                 from folly to wisdom,                                from error to truth,                                from sin to victory. Thanks be to thee for my high and holy calling. I bless thee for ministering angels,                   for the comfort of thy Word,                  for the ordinances of thy church,                  for the teaching of thy Spirit,                 for thy holy sacraments,                 for the communion of saints,                for Christian fellowship,                for the recorded annals of holy lives,               for examples sweet to allure,              for beacons sad to deter. I entrust myself to thee, for thou hast redeemed me. I bless and adore thee, the eternal God,    for the comfort of these thoughts,      the  joy of these hopes. ~an excerpt from Comforts, from The Valley of Vision

Charles H. Spurgeon

A fellow blogger and Christian agrarian, Brenda, at A Separate Path, has a great post on Spurgeon.  There is a selection from the introduction to his book, Farm Sermons.  It is well worth the read.  I invite you to check it out here.

Buckwheat: A Look Back

Ahh, yes, the title does sound rather formal, but, it's buckwheat.  How formal can buckwheat get?

Last spring, after much research into green manure, my husband and I decided that we would give buckwheat a try.  Our original garden plot was seven years old.  We thought it would be a good time to give it a rest and use the buckwheat as a cover crop, as well as one that would be used as a green manure.  This was going to be a boost to the soil as well as a deterrent to the weeds that have no problem growing in my garden, no matter what is going on with the soil.

*DISCLAIMER:  WE REALLY DIDN'T KNOW WHAT WE WERE DOING (BUT WE THOUGHT WE DID)!*

Disclaimer having thus been issued, I can fill you in on the details.  

The buckwheat was easily procured at our wonderful local feed mill, Bowser's.  It was then hand broadcast onto our tilled garden.  It grew into a lovely plot of buckwheat.  The local bee population seemed to enjoy it as well.  A huge plus, I think.  Here's where things went awry, in my humble opinion.  From what I understood, the buckwheat should be tilled under before it flowers and goes to seed.  OR, it can be left and the first frost would kill it and then it can be left to rot and then tilled into the ground.  I thought the first option sounded more "green".  I was going with that.  It seemed a happy thought.  When the buckwheat began to look like it was going to flower, the guy who runs the tractor and hooks up the equipment on this little corner of the world was informed of said event and that the plot needed to be tilled very soon.  I even offered to run the tractor, if he would connect the tiller.  The offer of me running any type of equipment usually speeds up any process for fear that I might actually do it.  When he sees me with a hammer, well, you get the picture, I think.  But, this time it didn't work.  It seems he didn't really believe I would even attempt to connect the tiller, let alone run it in the garden.  The buckwheat bloomed.  After much wringing of hands, on my part, the plot was mowed.  I thought, then, that it would be tilled.  At this point, the big guy had so many irons in the fire that there was no hope of getting the tiller on the tractor.  It wasn't long before a second crop of buckwheat emerged just as lovely as the first, albeit, unwanted.  This second crop was then mowed.  Yet, again, another crop was beginning to show it's strong and sturdy self.  At least the frost saved us from another round.  Fast forward to the spring.  The garden was tilled.  Crops were planted.  And, yes, you guessed it, there is buckwheat sprouting in the garden.  Thankfully just a few plants here and there that are easily dispatched and used as green manure, manually.  

All this being said, I am certain that there are plenty of folks who have had great success with green manures and are seasoned veterans at this craft.  It seems as if the use an old Presbyterian motto might work here, "But, we've never done it that way before."  You can teach an old dog new tricks, I think, just not these old dogs.

I have no idea if our soil has profited from our experiment with buckwheat.  I really don't know if we will ever try it again.  (My boss says, "NO".)  I still have weeds, though.  But, I think that's just life with a garden.  Or, maybe it's just life.

To read what real experts say about green manure, you can check out Gardening When it Counts, Growing Food in Hard Times, by Steve Solomon.  Or, online here.

.

P.S.  My camera was accidentally left at our daughter's in Minnesota.  It is being returned when they come for a visit the end of June.  I miss it.  

My sweet ride, Hazel, my John Deere, had to go in for major surgery this spring.  She has yet to be repaired.  In the meantime, I'm using an old Craftsman, which gets the grass cut with twice the amount of time and effort...the steering is bad.  I miss it more than my camera.  My arms and shoulders are getting a great workout though.

O LORD,

Whose power is infinite and wisdom infallible,

Order things that they may neither hinder, nor discourage me...

Permit me not to labour at work which thou wilt not bless,

     that I may serve thee without disgrace or debt;

Let me dwell in thy most secret place under thy shadow,

   where is safe impenetrable protection from

     the arrow that flieth by day,

     the pestilence that walketh in darkness,

     the strife of tongues,...

     the perils of youth,

     the temptations of middle life,

     the mournings of old age,

     the fear of death.

I am entirely dependent upon thee for support, counsel, consolation.

Strengthen me by thy Spirit in my inner self

     for every purpose of my Christian life.

--selections from Refuge, from A Valley of Vision