June is gone already. It was lovely, although it was a little too chilly at times, a bit too dry, and way too short. July begins with a bang, literally, as we celebrate our independence, and then it settles into high summer. I say settles, but July isn’t settled. Where June was lush and vigorous, yet restrained, July is not. In July the growing world accelerates. The increase in heat combined with the subtly decreasing daylight make the plants go wild. June’s was a well-behaved garden. July’s is not as tidy. Tall flowers start to flop over and need to be supported. Vines climb into places I did not intend. And the weeds run rampant. There is no let up to weeding in July. To miss a day or two is to give them an advantage that can hardly be won back. They can go from a small sprout to a mature plant in bloom to dropping their myriad seeds in no time at all.
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| It's poppy time! |
I like the heat of July. It’s stronger than June, but not as overpowering as August. On a hot July afternoon I love taking a break from the garden to sit on the front porch or under a maple in the shade where the grass is soft and sit and ponder. I say ponder, but I often doze off and then nap longer than I should.
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| Sunset last night. |
A while ago, I was sitting on the porch on a warm day, taking a midday break, eating a dish of ice cream. It was the last of a batch of vanilla ice cream that Miriam made. It was cold and smooth and delicious. As I ate, relishing each spoonful, I got to pondering on ice cream and vanilla. My love of ice cream goes as far back in my memory as I can remember. It is entwined with countless memories of special occasions – birthdays, family gatherings with people taking turns at a hand-cranked churn, trips to a favorite ice cream parlor. I only have two unhappy memories associated with ice cream. The first was when we lived on Bridge Street in New Cumberland, and I was sent down the street to Brunhauser’s Drug Store to buy a half gallon of ice cream. I was probably eight or nine years old. I was given a ten dollar bill and allowed to pick whatever flavor I wanted. I bought the ice cream, Rakestraw’s black raspberry, and on the way home, I lost all the change – a half gallon of ice cream cost about $3.50 back then, so it was about $6.50 in change. My father was upset at my carelessness and made me go back and retrace my steps in search of it, but I never found it. My sadness at my failure ruined the pleasure of eating that ice cream. I could barely choke it down. The other incident was when I was around eleven. It was a hot summer day and my friends and I walked down to the Dairy Queen in Tallmadge, Ohio, where we lived then. I got a large soft serve ice cream cone and as we started walking home, the ice cream fell out onto the road. I’d spent all my money on that ice cream cone (plus a few comic books and some bubble gum from Bumpas’s Drug Store) so there was nothing to do but keep walking while I watched my friends devour their cold and delicious ice cream cones. It was agonizing. Other than that, all my memories of ice cream are happy.
Anyone who asks me what my favorite food is will get the answer – ice cream. And if they ask what my favorite flavor is, I always answer – vanilla. That usually surprises people. They often say something like “plain vanilla?” But vanilla isn’t plain to me. It is as exotic as any tropical fruit. It is the taste of orchids. Originally from Mexico, Vanilla planifolia, is a vining orchid, now grown in far-flung tropical places like Central and South America and the islands of Madagascar, Réunion, Tahiti, Indonesia, and the West Indies. The majority of the world’s vanilla is known as Bourbon vanilla after the former name of Réunion, Île Bourbon. After saffron ($5,000 per pound), vanilla ($180 per pound of beans and $290 per gallon of extract), is the world’s most expensive spice because its production is very labor intensive. The flowers are only open for a day and must be hand pollinated. After the mature seed pods are picked, they go through a lengthy process of curing before the intoxicating flavor and aroma develop. The Aztecs, one of the first peoples to cultivate it, called it tlilxochitl, or “black flower”, because the vanilla orchid seed pods shrivel and turn a dark color shortly after being picked. After being introduced to Europe in the 1520s, the French were the first to use vanilla to flavor ice cream in the 18th century. The word “vanilla” is derived from the Spanish word vainilla meaning “little pod”, which is the diminutive of the Latin word vagina meaning a sheath or scabbard, describing the shape of the pods (as well as parts of the human female anatomy). So rather than being plain, vanilla is exotic, expensive, and even a bit racy. I do like other flavors of ice cream – black raspberry, chocolate, pistachio – but the best of them all is vanilla.
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| Vanilla orchid. |
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| Vanilla beans. |
The flower garden has reached that point I always find a bit perplexing. It’s deadheading time. Lots of plants will bloom longer if you keep taking off the spent blossoms. Many plants, if you trim them back hard as the flowers fade, will bloom again. My difficulty concerns seeds. Cornflowers, for instance, are annuals and I like them to bloom for as long as they can, so I pinch off the flowers as soon as they start to fade. But I also want them to drop seeds for next year’s garden and if I don’t let any seed heads mature fully, that won’t happen. But if I do let the seed heads mature, the plants stop blooming and die. I have to know when to stop pinching. Biennials and perennials are iffy too. If I cut back flowers like foxgloves before their seeds develop, they might send up a new flower stalk, but sometimes they don’t and then I won’t have any seed to scatter for next year. I fret about this all summer. I wander through the garden noting the plants whose seed I want, trying to decide if I risk deadheading or not. What do I want more, a longer blooming season this year or a sure harvest of seeds for next year? It’s a quandary.
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| Cornflowers. |
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| Feverfew. |
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| Pink yarrow. |
The Thayns arrived on Friday afternoon to spend Independence Day weekend with us. That evening Hannah made our traditional Friday homemade pizza for dinner. After dinner we went out and picked strawberries. Then as it began to grow dark, a thunderstorm moved in and brought us rain. Rain at last! The earth was so dry and the lawn was turning brown. I could smell the rain soaking into the ground and it was wonderful to hear it pounding on the tin of the front porch roof. It rained for several hours into the night.
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| Relaxing. |
Saturday morning, Florence, who is two, and Tabor were already up when it was time for me to go down and open the chicken coop, so they went with me. After we left the coop, we took a walk around the gardens. The deer had been in the yard in the night and knocked down the bird feeders – again. I put them back up and filled them. We went around to see if there was any other signs of deer trouble. I found that they had nibbled the tops off of some of my carrots and then meandered through the orchard, leaving droppings along their way. Friday was a hot day, 90 degrees, so it was pleasant to walk in the morning with low clouds and a cooler, wetter world after the night’s rain. That afternoon, after it was warmer, Kurt filled up his wading pool and the girls had fun splashing in it. Uncle Kurt and Aunt Julie are the best. At their house they have a swing set and a trampoline and scooters and electric motorbikes and a gator to drive around. We’re glad they live next door.
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| In the pool. |
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| Driving the Gator. |
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| Hanging out on Shillig's porch. |
Today at church, we sang three patriotic hymns – America the Beautiful, The Star Spangled Banner, and My Country ‘Tis of Thee. I always feel such strong emotions when I sing them and as usual, I got choked up as we sang each one. I especially love the second verse of The Star Spangled Banner:
Where the foe’s haughty host in dread silence reposes,
What is that which the breeze, o’er the towering steep,
As it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses?
Now it catches the gleam of the morning’s first beam,
In full glory reflected now shines on the stream;
’Tis the star-spangled banner! Oh, long may it wave
O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave!
The third verse of America the Beautiful:
In liberating strife,
Who more than self their country loved,
And mercy more than life!
America! America!
May God thy gold refine,
Till all success be nobleness,
And ev’ry gain divine.
And the fourth verse of My Country ‘Tis of Thee:
Author of liberty,
To thee we sing;
Long may our land be bright
With freedom’s holy light.
Protect us by thy might,
Great God, our King!
Lunch will soon be ready. After that, we’ll spend the afternoon and evening doing what we love to do when we are together, play games, sit and talk, eat good food. Tomorrow we will celebrate our independence and do even more of the same. I wish you a jubilant 4th of July! God bless America!
