My Country Life

Two tiny red mushrooms. I noticed these two tiny red mushrooms a few feet off the driveway the other morning, on my walk. The bigger one was maybe two inches tall, if that. Beautiful and perfect, don't you think?

Danielsville Farmers' Market Yesterday, Mama and I visited the Farmers’ Market in Danielsville, about five miles down the road. I recently saw an ad for the new market in the local paper so we decided to check it out. The market is located at 715 General Daniels Avenue. Hours are Tuesday 4-7 p.m. and Saturday 8 a.m. to 1 p.m., with the intention of opening 7-days a week in the future once a planned facility is completed.

Yesterday on my morning walk, I noticed this purple mushroom. I've never seen a purple one before; I considered that the crazy color might be caused by something other than the inherent qualities of the 'shroom. Upon googling it, I learned there is such a thing, but they are kind of rare--at least not common. I counted six of these in the same general area, beneath a water oak beside the driveway. I sent a picture to my brother, and he couldn't recall having seen these before either. Considering he lives and works on a 50,000 acre wildlife refuge, and has spent his entire life paying close attention to God's creation, I think it's pretty cool that I got to see these on my very own property.

Melvin, my 14-year-old, almost deaf, vision-impaired corgi found his prance again after losing it for a few weeks. His frolic up the driveway last night was almost youthful. The fireflies at dusk reminded me of summer evenings as a girl, running barefoot in the cool grass after supper, catching lightening bugs in one of Mama’s mason jars, air-holes hammered into the lid with a nail.

The first thing I did upon arriving home after several days in Atlanta was stroll out my quarter-mile driveway and walk along the main dirt road to soak up some country life. Then I sat down and wrote the following: Welcome Home A single ripe blackberry, almost out of reach, is my sweet reward for precariously straddling this ditch that never seems to drain. Bright green baby muscadines dangle overhead, and a black swallowtail butterfly floats about. The neighbor's dogs that normally bark and run out to greet me are not here today. No one is. Only the crunch of the gravel beneath my feet and the lonesome call of the mourning dove break the silence. Like a Saturday afternoon from my childhood, maybe I will find Daddy on the other side of the screened door, in his recliner, watching The Porter Wagoner Show .

All American Daylily 'Lady Lucille' Listen Listen to the squeak of the nuthatch and the ceiling fan stirring the thick morning air. A cardinal whistles nearby, then the familiar, tick, tick, tick. Listen to the lonely coo of the mourning dove and the buzz-hum of the hummingbird. She darts by, then stops on a dime, in mid-air, her wings a blur. Then gone again, as fast as she came. Listen to the chickadees complaining down by the dogwood, or is it the titmouses? I can’t be sure. Listen to Melvin’s feet on the gravel path, making his morning rounds. A small plane drones overhead, faintly, then stronger, then fades away. And in the quiet, between the sounds, God speaks. I listen. 

Hibiscus blooming at LaMama's. Campsis (trumpet vine) is blooming now along the roadsides. I have it here at the cabin, but it was all cut back with the driveway work that occurred in February. I have lots of small trumpet vine plants , but no blooms. Maybe later in the summer. I'll keep watching for it.

The cabin white oak, in summer. The sunlight through the trees is extra pretty this morning. After days upon days of rain, I woke to clear skies. There’s still a chance of storms and showers later today, but only 30%, so the odds of dry weather are pretty good. I’m grateful for that.

This morning my sister and I made a trip to the Comer Farmers’ Market . I’ve been wanting to go for a while now, but it seems like there has been something to keep me away every Saturday. So I was happy to make it today. I bought some peaches from a sweet older couple who had just unloaded them from the back of their pickup truck; said they picked ‘em fresh this morning, then drove right over. They were running late and arrived after the 9am opening of the market. As the farmer-couple placed the peaches on the table, shoppers lined up six-deep. Jolyn and I elbowed our way to the table and bought a small basket to share. I’m sure they sold out quickly; there are a few locals enjoying fresh peaches today. I also got a quart of blueberries, three plums, a couple of heirloom tomatoes, a dozen eggs, and two round zucchini. I’ve never seen round zucchini before. The farmer-lady who sold them to me said they are nice stuffed, like you might prepare bell peppers. That’s what I p

As I sat on the porch this morning, drinking my coffee and reading, this fella came and sat on the railing. He stared at me for a long time. Then he jumped down onto the container of black oil sunflower seed that I keep on the porch. It’s a large metal can with a tight fitting lid. It holds a 50-pound bag of seed, and apparently, the squirrels know that’s where I keep it. If he could talk, he would have said, “hey lady, we need more seed in the feeders!”  I obliged, and now everyone is happy.

A bouquet of hydrangeas, freshly picked from LaMama's garden. LaMama's hydrangeas are in spectacular bloom right now. With all the rain we've had this year, they are the prettiest I ever remember seeing them. I think most, if not all, of LaMama's hydrangeas came from McCorkle Nurseries, where I worked for over a decade. Seems like every time I made a trip to the farm I would come home with a truck full of plants, and many of them ended up in LaMama's yard. My former garden on Lamont Drive in Decatur is also a tribute to that phase of my life. I drove by it the other day on my way to visit the Stelten boys; the Blushing Bride hydrangeas I planted were fantastic set against a backdrop of Ever Red loropetalums. Overall, the garden I created there looked happy and well-kept, but I didn't stare too long, lest I slip into a melancholy state. I'm glad the current owners are maintaining what I worked so hard to create over the years. That makes me happy.

May 7, 2005 Melvin just turned 14 on Saturday , AND it’s beach week over at The Daily Corgi . Those two factors got me looking for my best beach pictures of Melvin. Melvin’s first trip to the beach was in May of 2005, when he was just shy of six years old. We visited Jekyll Island at the invitation of my good friend, Susan who now owns a place there. We loved it, and now we go every year at least once, more if we can.