SOURWOOD HONEY & UNCLE CLEO

See how clear this honey is? This is Sourwood Honey and it is highly prized for its clearness, wonderful exotic taste and care involved in stealing it from the hive.

The bees can only collect it while the trees are in bloom. The Bee keeper then has to be very careful to only collect this clear delicate nectar.

The trees are mid sized and not in great numbers throughout the forests that run from Pennsylvania to Georgia. The best honey is collected in higher elevations and bumper crops only occur every 5 to 7 years. The season of flowering is from June till August and great care is needed to not allow clover and other flavors to spoil the product.


The flavor like the clarity of the honey is light and has an unique taste that makes it prized by all who are able to collect or buy it. The taste is slightly spicy with a hint of anise and has an aftertaste somewhat like gingerbread.

This is my Uncle Cleo when he was still alive and keeping bees. His Sourwood Honey was a prized product to all who knew him and his bees here on the Cumberland Plateau. We loved him as a sweet gentle spirit who had a magic touch with bees and wonderfully with little children. No child, family or stranger got near him without reaching out to be held by him. All us cousins were mad about him and his kind spirit and willingness to pay attention to us. Uncle Cleo was such an angel spoken of in the following quote I'm sure.

Most honey is made by bees. But Sourwood is made by bees and angels.

Carson Brewer

SUNDAY STROLL AT REST

The morning glory says good morning and shines for most of the day. It speaks to the eyes with it color and joy.
But last night I stepped out on the porch and my ears and soul were greeted by the most glorious serenade of natures very own Night Music. I was enthralled again as I always am as I listened to the cadence and various pitches of tree frogs and insects. I knew I wanted to share the wonder of it all.
So I invite you to turn the volume all the way up. The night critters are loud and wildly enthusiastic about their songs.
How loud are they? They are so loud that one of my daughter-in-laws was frightened by the sounds she heard outside the open window the first time they came to visit here in summer on this mountaintop in Tennessee.
Perhaps after all your strolling over at The Quiet Country House and other places you might like to come back, sit on the porch with us and watch the moon dance across the sky to the glorious night sounds that speak to the heart and affairs of the critters in our neighborhood. Actualy go ahead and listen now and come back if you enjoy the courting songs of the little critters.

FLOWERING FERN

Now wait a minute, ferns don't bloom.

Do they?

Of course not.

Ferns create spores that form on the underside of the leaves and drop off when ready to make new little ferns.

This was an easily solved mystery.

After all-----

I have the world of information at hand. I have a computer.

Now I know.

My Asparagus Fern is not a true fern. It is of the genus Asparagus a flowering plant in the Liliacea (Lily) family.

These teny, tiny flowers gave me a chance to try my hand at using the macro setting on my old Sony digital Mavica camera. I'm not impressed or I'm not very good at this. I was hoping for a huge flower filling my picture. All the really close ups were fuzz, no clarity at all. I'm so disappointed. I love the really close up pictures I find on so many blog sites.

Oh, well.

I love my camera, it's big, heavy and uses a floppy disc which I just reformat and use again, but I know how to use it. I tend to be a modern tech wimp and a waste not, want not sort of gal so I'll be keeping my camera and let other folks do the fancy picture taking.

GRACE NOTES

I remember a quote I came across along time ago.

"When I works, I work.

When I sits, I sit."

It aways stuck with me. I may not have the whole quote and can't find it on the internet, but I use it to tell myself to put myself totally into whatever I am doing. Work or rest deserve full attention. I have accumulated several quotes on work or quiet time, I want to share some of them here.

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I'm a great believer in luck

and I find the harder I work,

the more I have of it.

Thomas Jefferson

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Opportunity is missed by

most people because it is

dressed in overalls and

looks like work.

Thomas Edison

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Whether you believe you can,

or whether you believe you can't

you are absolutely right.

Henry Ford

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Nothing is often a good thing to do,

and always a good thing to say.

Will Durant

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It is never to late to do nothing.

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Arranging a bowl of flowers in the morning

can give a sense of quiet in a crowded day -

- like writing a poem or saying a prayer.

Ann Morrow Lindbergh

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Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass

under trees on a summer's day,

listening to the mummer of the water or watching

the clouds float across the sky,

is by no means a waste of time.

J. Lubbock

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SUNDAY STROLL

A walk back to the lake seemed a good stroll for today. The path has not been cleared this year and it was pretty wild and filled with bramble and downed timber. So carefully picking our way, with Flutemaker in the lead to clear spider webs and tromp down briers we made it to the lake and the jumping off rock ledge often uses for swimming parties. I love how the lake is slowly revealed as we approached. The path is a slow ramble and possibly an old animal trail.

This little lake is the source of the municipal water works and is fed by another lake piped underground and our little creek that runs through our property.

It is an overcast day with temperatures in the low 60' . Sorry the sun didn't choose to shine on our outing. But--"the sun will come out tomorrow, bet your bottom dollar--tomorrow--."

It's a pretty lake. Here we are looking across at a pasture where cows are protected by their donkey friends. Locally farmers keep donkeys in with their cattle because the donkeys are said to dislike coyotes and stomp any that get near the herd.

This is the inlet where our creek flows out and we are looking toward our nephews home place here on the right side of the creek.

If we could have seen around the bend of the lake you could almost see the bridge on my nephews land, some of which is on the other side of the creek.

Along the stream are wonderful bushes and stands of Jewelweed like you see here. I believe smearing jewelweed on a mosquito bit is suppose to soothe the itch. It is a tried and true remedy for poison ivy. (I have added this because Aisling reminded me with her comment.)

A friendly dragonfly follows us along the pathway as we wander homeward.

Here we have found some very curious looking mushrooms at the base of this tree. They look like thin wood shavings that have curled around into little disks. I continue to be amazed at the different ways mushrooms choose to appear.

Finally our last photo opportunity is at the site of a beavers handiwork. This log didn't get hauled away and seems to have been here for a few years. We took many more pictures along the way and had a good time reblazing the old trail.

Be sure to check out the other strollers who have checked in at The Quiet Country House.

GRACE NOTES

I love mornings. Maybe I just love new beginnings. A fresh new day, filled with all possibilities. As soon as you start making decisions about anything you begin to limit those possibilities. I put off choosing for as long as I can. I meditate, drink coffee and step outside to breath deeply. Oh, alright those were all choices. We can't not make choices, it is what we were born to do.
So my underlying choice is always to enjoy the moment, not take myself too seriously and extend kindness at all times. Today I'm drawing from my Grace Notes things that I have started my mornings with over the years. In meditation I often draw on my book of sayings to get myself going of a morning.

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This is the day the Lord hath made,

Let us rejoice and be glad in it.

Psalm 118:24

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Your life is shaped by the end you live for;

you are made in the imagine of what you desire.

Thomas Merton

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We have only this moment sparkling like a star in our hand---

and melting like a snowflake. Let us use it,

before it is to late.

Marie Edith Beynon

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Listen to the Exhortation of the Dawn

Look well to this day,

for it is life. The very life of life. In it's

brief course lie all the verities and all

the realities of your existence.

The bliss of growth.

The glory of action.

the splendor of beauty.

Yesterday is but a dream;

and tomorrow is only a vision.

But a day well lived makes of every

yesterday a dream of happiness and

every tomorrow a vision of hope.

Look well, therefore, to This Day.

Such is the salutation to the Dawn.

from the Sanskrit

Kalidasa, Indian poet and dramatist. c 400 c.e.

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Prayer of Protection

The Light of God surrounds me.

The Love of God enfolds me.

The Power of God protects me and

The Presence of God watches over me.

Wherever I am God is

and all is well.

James Dillet Freman

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I am not afraid of tomorrow.

I have seen yesterday

and

I love today!

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The photo of our Rose of Sharon show the glory and bane of the trees. Glorious flowers all summer and the spent flowers littering the ground.

CURIOUS - CHICORY

Now, right off the bat, I have to admit that there is nothing really curious about Chicory. The curiosity is in my own mind and my fond memory of my father.

Chicory is lining the highways and byways right now. And it was always a major event to see it in bloom for my Dad. He would get all excited and start planning a fishing trip. He was convinced that when Chicory bloomed the Bluegills would be biting. To hear him tell it, the fish would almost jump in the boat to get the bait.

Fishing was an all day occassion with friends and family, a picnic and games for those who didn't fish. Daddy would grab a couple of bamboo poles and off we'd go to Pontiac Lake when we lived in Michigan. We would catch a mess of Bluegill and maybe a few Perch and then head home for a feast. He was a fisherman from the word go and I was his fishing buddy.

Isn't the blue of Chicory a lovely shade. Be warned --if you want to put it in a corner of your garden it won't stay there. It is a wild and crazy spreader.

And if you aren't familiar with this 'weed' but know the name 'Chicory' this is indeed the plant whose roots are dried and ground then added to coffee for the unique flavor it adds. It is very popular in the deep south.
Referring to my old Rodale Herb Book I learned that the French are very fond of chicory in their coffee. It can also be used just as a brewed chicory beverage.
Now quoting from the book:
"Chicory was ascribed a variety of medicinal uses--including a tonic, laxative, and diuretic. Ancient herbals suggest bruised chicory leaves as a poultice for swellings, inflammations, and inflamed eyes. A decoction of one ounce of dried powdered root to a pint of water was recommended for jaundice and general liver ailments. Blanched, the leaves can be used in salads."
My favorite thing about chicory is still the color.