Rain, Rain

Don't get me wrong.  I am not complaining.  We've had so many drought spells over the last few years, I'd be ashamed to complain.  At times we've seen the pasture so dry that the ground was cracking.  We would sit in the barn aisle and watch the horses paw the earth, making big clouds of dust.  We've run sprinklers in the pasture in an attempt to preserve some grass for the critters and paid big water bills as a result. 

So - you won't hear me complaining about rain - and we've been having it almost every day for a while now.  But I am amazed at how short my memory is.  I had forgotten that when you get a lot of rain, all the vegetation that you want to grow certainly does improve; but the weeds suck up the rain and grow twice as fast as the good stuff grows. 

Even if you like weed eating, mowing, etc., some days it's impossible to do because it won't stop raining.  When there is a little break in the rain, it's too wet and squishy to do anything. 

And then there's mud.  I really had forgotten about mud - it's been so long since we've had long rainy spells.  I'm getting a refresher course now.  The ground around the horses watering trough is a mass of ooey, gooey, sticky, icky mud. 

The flower pots on the deck already looked bad from the previous drought conditions.  (I've already told you - I'm not a gardener.)  Now they're really a sight to see.  Just when the portulaca, miniature rose, Blue Daze, and the herbs were beginning to look a little better because they're getting some water - big healthy weedy vines have sprung up in the ground around the deck.  They're sending their evil tendrils up on the deck to attack what's in the pots - and what's in the pots is no match for them! 

I usually just walk across the deck on my way to the barn.  I don't pay much attention to the plants.  They probably think they're invisible.  But yesterday even I couldn't ignore a poor Blue Daze under attack from one of the vines.  Tendrils were wrapped around and around it's poor branches.  Baby vines had sprung up in the pot with the Blue Daze.  You don't have these evil super-weeds in a drought.  But of course, in a drought, the favored plants barely survive for lack of a gardner - but that's another story.

Two or three days of sun would be nice.  It would give us a chance to dry out and beat the jungle vegetation back.  But I'm definitely not complaining. 

Day Trip



Iberville Visitors Center - Main Building


We decided to do some rambling today, so we took care of the barn chores early this morning. We packed our camera equipment and set out for Breaux Bridge.

On the way we stopped at the Iberville Visitors Center, located near I-10 in Gross Tete.  It opened a little over a year ago, and today was our first visit.  We drank complimentary coffee and chatted with the two friendly ladies who work there.  The inside is as beautiful as the outside.   Cypress floors, doors, and paneling make it a reflection of the nearby Atchafalaya Swamp.


Iberville Visitors Center - Grounds

We traveled on to Breaux Bridge and decided to make the short trip out to Lake Martin.  We drove along the gravel road that runs along the swampy edge of the lake.  I was hoping to see an alligator, so we stopped when we came to a break in the foliage where we had a good view of the swamp. 

I saw bubbles in the water and remembered that Willie, on Swamp People, is always talking about where you see bubbles, there is usually an alligator.  But I'll swear, I couldn't see anything but a couple of old knarly pieces of wood in the water.  Just as I was complaining that we weren't going to see any gators, I realized that the knarly pieces of wood were two alligators - one of them looking me in the eye from just a few feet away.  He was nice enough to sit still so I could get his picture.

Alligator Disguised as Driftwood!

We went farther down the road and discovered that there is a new Lake Martin Visitors Center, complete with a picnic pavilion and state of the art rest rooms.  Now if you've ever been to Lake Martin, you will appreciate what a great thing this is!  We used to have to drive back into Breaux Bridge to find a public rest room which meant we couldn't stay out at the lake for hours on end.  Now we will be able to pack a picnic lunch and spend the day at the lake, watching the wildlife and taking pictures.  I think we'll wait for cooler weather though.

Boardwalk through the Swamp

We walked the quarter mile boardwalk through the swamp, but didn't see anything as exciting as our two gator friends up the road.

Swamp as Seen from the Boardwalk

We had some good Cajun food for lunch at Poche's, a Breaux Bridge meat market and restaurant which was recently featured in Garden & Gun magazine.  After lunch we did some looking around in one of the antique shops in the historic district of Breaux Bridge.  I like to check these places out for old post cards, stationery, and desk paraphernalia.  But I didn't have any luck today.

When we took the Gross Tete exit to head home, we decided to make one last stop at a new gift shop called The Swamp Shop, right across the road from the Iberville Visitors Center.  In fact, the ladies at the Visitors Center had told us about this new gift shop when we made our first stop there this morning.

Jean Crites, the proprietor of The Swamp Shop is very friendly and welcoming.  And her shop is something to see!  Since it's in a house, I assumed the owners probably lived there and had a one room gift shop.  But no, the shop takes up the entire house.  All the merchandise has a Louisiana theme.  Each room is artfully arranged and decorated, and it's a pleasure to stroll around and look.  I stocked up on post cards to send to my pen pals.  Jerry found two books he wanted, and I couldn't resist a beautiful glass fleur de lis necklace.  I'm already thinking that this might be a good place to do some Christmas shopping.

English Campaign Desk with Improvements

It's always fun to make a good thing better.  That's what we've done with the English campaign desk that I reviewed in an earlier post.  Jerry installed the eye screws and chain, shown in the photo at left, with a little bit of help from me.  It was his idea to use jewelry chain with a clasp on each end so the chain can be easily removed if there's ever a reason to do so.  The chain keeps the stationery holder section of the box upright so that it doesn't flop down and spill all your stationery.  When the stationery holder section is closed the chain drops into the little compartment as shown in the photo below.

I also added some green blotter paper to the sloped writing section.  I attached it with removeable double-faced tape. The blotter paper protects the wood and makes a slightly padded writing surface. 

In the photo below you'll notice that I've placed a blue coaster under the hinged clasp to keep it from marring the surface of whatever table or desk the campaign desk is sitting on when I'm writing.  This blue coaster was all I could find around the house to serve this purpose, but I'm on the lookout for something that will look better with the green blotter.

I've already written quite a few letters and post cards on this campaign desk.  Thank goodness I'm actually using it.  I don't need any more what-nots!

In Defense of Mediocrity

At an early age, I got the mistaken idea that the only choices in life are to do things perfectly or not to do them at all. 

A wise woman once told me I was a perfectionist.  I laughed and told her she didn't know me.  I assured her that I seldom do things perfectly.  Then she gave me a real jolt by saying, "I don't mean that you do everything perfectly.  I mean that you're waiting to do anything until you can do it perfectly."  I've never forgotten her, and it took me a long time to forgive her.  Her comment irritated me for years until I finally admitted to myself that it was true, and that my worship of perfectionism was literally paralyzing me.

No doubt a high degree of excellence must be maintained in some areas - like brain surgery. But when it comes to the nuts and bolts of life, there's a lot to be said for mediocrity.

The modern world has given mediocrity a bum rap.  Today if someone says your performance at some skill is mediocre, you feel insulted.  And you should because mediocre often means inferior.  Merriam-Webster's Collegiate Dictionary defines mediocre or mediocrity as "of moderate or low value, ordinary, so-so." The dictionary app on my iPhone pulls no punches and just comes right out and calls it "inferior."

Far be it from me to argue with the dictionary, but when I read these definitions, I said, "Bull!"  Something told me that mediocrity wasn't always a word of ill repute.

I lugged out the 1828 edition of The American Dictionary of the English Language by Noah Webster. I bought this dictionary a few years ago just for these wordy occasions.

 
Here's how Noah Webster defined mediocrity 1828:
1. A middle state or degree; a moderate degree or rate. A mediocrity of condition is most favorable to morals and happiness. A mediocrity of talents well employed will generally ensure respectability.

"Men of age seldom drive business home to the full period, but content themselves with a mediocrity of success." Bacon

2. Moderation; temperance.

"We owe obedience to the law of reason, which teacheth mediocrity in meats and drinks." Hooker

It appears to me that since 1828, mediocrity has gone from a virtue to a vice.  Yes, I know - language changes - it evolves.  Even so, there's something sinister about a perfectly respectable word evolving to the point that it means the opposite of what it once meant.

I think this is an indication that we humans have become full of ourselves.  We've got to be the best, have the most, climb to the top of the heap. 

I think Robinson Crusoe's father gave him some good advice.  He told his son that a middle state in life is best. The middle state isn't exposed to the hardships and sufferings of the poor, and neither is it "embarrassed with the pride, luxury, ambition, and envy of the upper part of mankind."  In other words, Robinson Crusoe's old papa was a believer in mediocrity in the classic sense.  So am I.

Lately we've been putting mediocrity into practice right here on Bywater Farm.  We've committed ourselves to fifteen minutes of de-cluttering every day - a mediocre commitment to be sure.  But we're accomplishing more than we ever did with the "Gung ho!  We're going to devote a week (or two or three) to getting this place cleared out and ship-shape!"  Long live mediocrity!

English Campaign Desk

English Campaign Desk - Photo #1

This nifty little writing box arrived in the mail yesterday.   I told you I was having a good mail week!  I ordered this online from Acorn, a website that sells a variety of gift items.  I also get the Acorn mail order catalog which is almost as much fun to peruse as J. Peterman's catalog. 

This box is listed as an English Campaign Desk.  Prior to the 20th century this kind of thing was a common item used by military men and explorers.  They moved around a lot and needed a compact box that was useful for storage as well as writing.

This is not a lap desk.  It's designed to be used on a table.  Photo #1 shows the front of the box in closed position.  In this position, the deminsions are 10.5 inches by 8.75 inches by 3 inches.

Photo #2 (scroll down) shows the writing surface open. This sloped surface is 10.5 inches wide and 8.75 inches from top to bottom.  If you like to write on full 8.5 inch by 11 inch paper, this might be a bit small.  Since most of my handwriting is done on half-sheet sized stationery, notecards, and post cards, it suits my purposes.

Before I got this dandy little box I had not had any experience writing on a slope.  I'm happy to say the slope solves a problem for me.  I wear trifocals, and the slope puts the paper in just the right position for viewing through the bottom lens of my glasses.  When I write on a flat surface, I find myself alternating between the bottom and middle lenses of my glasses and not having my writing in perfect focus either way.  But this, of course, is my personal problem. 

Photo #2

Photo #3 shows the little "file" section open.  You can store stationery here, but there are some things to consider.  If the stationery is too big and sticks out of the file slots, it will be damaged when the box is closed.  If post cards are dropped down in these slots, you can't get hold of them to get them out.  I'm going to solve this problem by custom making a mini file folder for each slot.  These folders will stick out just enough for me to get hold of them.  I can keep post cards and small notecards in these folders and be able to reach them by lifting the folders out.

My only criticism of this box is that the file folder section does not stand up on its own.  It appears to stand up in this photo because its leaning on the side panel of the piece of furniture that its on.  My handy husband says this can be fixed with two little eyelet screws and a little bit of chain.  He's gathering the supplies to make this modification.  When it's done I'll make another post with a photo and a report on how it works.

Photo #3

Photo #4 is a close-up of the middle section, showing all the neat little compartments.  Underneath the compartment at the bottom of the photo is a little drawer.  You'll want to keep things you don't get to often in here because whatever is in the center section has to be taken out to get to the drawer.  It's a little unhandy, but the drawer is a way to make use of space that would be wasted otherwise.

Photo #4

Let me add that this writing box has a slight odor about it, although I don't find it to be unpleasant.  Is this a funiture oil that was applied to the box or is this the natural smell of teakwood?  I don't know. 

Although this is a new item, it is made in the distressed fashion so that it will look like an antique - and it does.  I think "English campaign desk" is a mouthful so I'm calling this my safari desk.  I can picture Stanley in his tent - sitting at his safari desk - penning a note to Livingston.  No, wait - he couldn't pen a note to Livingston.  He was trying to find Livingston.  Oh well, you get the idea. 
 

A Good Mail Week!

I'm one of those people who measure a good week by what they find in their mailbox.  And this week has been a postal bonanza! 

I've received letters from California, Texas, and New Jersey; post cards from Arkansas, Pennsylvania, and Peru, and a birthday card from north Louisiana. 

Of course, I did my part to brighten other people's mail boxes by sending letters to California and Hawaii; post cards to Rhode Island, Pennsylvania, and Australia. 

I've had even more than post cards and letters in my mailbox.  My Noodler's flex fountain pen arrived yesterday!  It lives up to all the good reviews.  It produces quite a range of line width and is a nice looking pen, too.  Since it's a piston filler, it holds a lot of ink.  All this goodness for $14.00!  Unbelievable!  I've loaded it with Noodler's Iraqi Indigo ink and plan to put it to work writing a letter before the day is out.

My membership packet from the Letter Writers Alliance arrived, too.  It included a membership card, a cool pin with the LWA logo, and LWA stationery.  Membership in LWA also allows you to download nifty notecards, stationery, etc., from the website and print them on your own paper.

I'm off now to write a letter to the 2011 Letter Project - with my new Noodler's pen, of course.

Gardening, Anyone?

When your rake is rusty and a stray vine is using the handle as a trellis, it's hard to convince anyone that you're a gardener.  I am not a gardener.  Although I have a great appreciation for green growing things, I am more drawn to animal husbandry than to gardening. 

My interest in gardening usually comes in spurts in the spring and fizzles out when the summer heat arrives.  This year I didn't even experience the spring spurt.  The heat has set in now, so the prospects for serious gardening are slim until things cool off in the fall. 

In the relatively cool morning hours this week, I have made a stab at gardening.  In other words, I've been removing dead plants and healthy weeds from pots on the deck - the pots I mentioned in my last post. 

The moss roses have already put out a beautiful yellow bloom.  They are looking very perky this morning after the water I gave them yesterday.  I'm always amazed at what water will do for a plant!  That in itself proves that I'm no gardener.  A true gardener is never surprised at what water can do. 

I resisted the urge to buy very many plants this spring, knowing that my life was too hectic to even pretend to care for them.  I did buy some Blue Daze plants.  I'm a big fan of Blue Daze.  This is no sissy plant!  It bears neglect like a real trooper.  When it doesn't get the miraculous H2O, its little leaves may curl up and wither a bit - but it doesn't throw in the towel and die like so many other plants.  No, indeed!  When it finally gets some water, it bounces right back and doesn't seem to hold a grudge.

It even bounces back after a light freeze in the winter.  Although it's an annual, I've had Blue Daze to come back three years in a row - in spite of me!  Even though we had several hard freezes last winter, one of the three plants in the pots at my front door has reappeared.  I removed the dead bodies from the other two pots and put in the new plants. 

I cut the dead heads off the miniature rose on the deck yesterday morning.  I noticed spider webs and tiny crawly things on the leaves so I squirted it with some insecticide that's supposed to kill all the critters that like to torment roses.  I feel sorry for roses.  It seems to me that while you are in the very act of planting a rose, there are hundreds of insects watching.  As soon as you turn your back, they pounce on the poor defenseless rose bush.

My useful knowledge about roses would fit in a thimble with room left over.  Two or three years ago I decided I'd like to plant a rose that would trail along the picket fence that surrounds our back yard.  I bought a climber called "Don Juan."  The label said it would produce fragrant red roses.  Just what I wanted!  

Jerry planted this rose for me, right where I told him to, by the fence.  I had the vague notion that you have to "train" roses, so I set out to train Don Juan to grow horizontally along the fence.  But Don has proved to be contrary.  I want him to grow horizontally, and he's determinded to grow vertically. 

As usual, the problem is my ignorance.  After doing some after-the-fact research, I see that what I really wanted was a rambling rose, not a climbing rose.  Did you know there's a difference?  I didn't.  According to the rose experts who write articles for gardening websites, it's easy to tell them apart.  A rambler's leaves are in groups of seven while a climber's leaves are in groups of five.  Who knew?

So now - what am I going to do with Don Juan?  Like Jack's beanstalk, Don is determined to reach the sky and is never going to trail along our picket fence.