A Light in the Family

Up until 14 years ago on precisely April 16, 1996, the day we received the keys to Dexter Woods, we did like most newlyweds and young families and moved a lot.  But Dexter Woods was going to be different.  It wasn't long before Jeanette knew that this was to be our HOME.  It was time to put down roots or, as REO Speedwagon sang in their 1984 hit Can't Fight This Feeling,  "it's time to bring this ship into the shore and throw away the oars forever." Each time I got the hankerin' to look around a bit and find that "better house,"  you know, that one with the greener grass, I was gently reminded we were going to stay at Dexter Woods.  It wasn't a command or an insistence on the part of my wife but, rather, a feeling that we NEEDED to stay put . Stay put and be here for our children.  We felt that in a rapidly changing world, something needed to be the same.  True, the gospel would always be the same but we needed to be at Dexter Woods-- always at Dexter Woods for our children.  Their memories and ours are to remain, growing brighter and deeper with the passage of time.  This wouldn't be one of those places that you used to live at and now can only drive by without ever going in again.  No, the toys, the chatter, the dancing together in the dining room,  the Sunday dinners and tons of invited guests, the late night conversations, the movies, the family prayers, the Thanksgiving feasts and the waiting on the stairs before going to see what gifts Santa brought on Christmas morning, are to remain within the place that we can all return to as often as we want, go inside, and create even more memories.

One of my favorite scriptures is from the Doctrine and Covenants, Section 111 verses 7-8.  There the Prophet Joseph Smith is instructed by the Lord,

We've always felt that "peace" and "power" flowing through this place we call home.

I still haven't gotten to the title of this blog yet so bear with me a few more minutes. 

When one stays put, it is easier to more clearly observe the patterns of life. It's like something out of focus becomes clear.  For instance, I have noticed the cycle of the wild animals in our yard and neighborhood.  One year, we may have an abundance of rabbits and squirrels.  That same year, we'll have an abundance of that marvelously stealth bird of prey-- the owl.  When the owl and red-tail hawk and other predators have diminished the rodent population sufficiently, the next season we'll see or hear far fewer of all the above.  It's a fascinating cycle.

Likewise, the cycles of the seasons are wonderful.  I absolutely love the four seasons in Missouri! It seems as though there are precisely three months of each season.  At the beginning of each season, all are so anxious for it to begin.  Summer is welcomed with gusto and sunshine. The cleaning, the pool memberships, the trips planned, the yard work, the spider webs, the fireflies, the ice cream truck the children insist that a parent is with them before approaching, the super-intense moving-at-35-mph Missouri thunderstorms we love to watch from the front porch, the humidity and the "smell of Missouri."  That mix of grass, flowers, abundant hardwood trees, damp mulch, wet rock and humidity.  The barbecues stoked with wood from the yard and gazing up at the sky on a clear night while you're taking Vallie Girl out one more time, with only crickets still conversing, and seeing Mars in August.  And the garden in full production.

But, you know, that 2-3 weeks of 95 degrees and 70% humidity seeems to imbue one with a longing for cooler days and school to begin again.  And so it does. The next season and the next and the next-- each welcomed with a joyful hug and then waved good-bye to like a visitor whose finally driving away after having stayed too long. (We haven't had any stay too long but it seemed a good way to put it.  Really. You don't believe me do you?)

James Horner wrote a beautiful piece of music used in the 1999 film Bicentennial Man entitled, The Passage of Time, A Changing of Seasons.  The piece is played as the father watches a film of him dancing with his daughter just a few hours prior on her wedding night.  Becoming emotional at this scene being replayed for him, the turns away from another to hide his emotions.  From a very young age, I have been keenly attuned to the passage of time and often find it a vivid experience.  Now, my hair is gray and my children are growing up.  Indeed, my oldest daughter and her husband are center stage in this passage of time and changing seasons for tomorrow, within a few short hours, they will see the arrival of the first baby into their family.  I will become a grandparent with my wife and my children will suddenly become aunts (lots of them) and an uncle.  Time has passed and the season is changing for each of us.  And its going to be a long, wonderful season; one that extends our family and Dexter Woods beautifully. 

Some dear friends of ours from Mexico are of European (Spanish) descent.  The patriarch of their very large family said once, "It is important to always have a baby in the family.  For, a baby in the family, is a light in the family."  I'm so very pleased that, with my youngest now at five years old, we will once again have a baby in the family.  The light is bright.

Congratulations to Alia and Adam and their new son coming tomorrow. 

The Backyard War Zone

I have to say that the results of digging up 10x12' of sod and then bringing in some rich, loamy soil to sit on top of our clay produced some astounding results.  We grew corn, egg plant, tomatoes, zucchini, yellow squash, lemon balm (no food value but hey, it smelled real good), pumpkin (the imperialist vegetable that takes over the entire garden!), watermelon, radishes, and a few other plants. I was, and still am, amazed at how much this garden will produce.

Radishes:  Don't those little bunches of radishes at the grocery store look so fresh and appetizing with their recent dose of mist from the sprayer?  In fact everything looks super good-- you want to buy them all. Well, how about buying 20 of these bunches?  How fast would you eat 20 bunches of radishes?  This little garden of ours grew about 20 bunches. That's really cool to the gardener with it's attendant sense of having produced a lot of food but no one eats them.  And, to make their eating more challenging, they are very hot.  The "spice" in radishes is diferent than that found in hot peppers.  In peppers it is called capisum. In radishes it is a compound called isothiocyanate. I think that the amount of isothiocyanate is due to the length of time the plant has been growing-- too slow or too long (so they say) . Anyway, this iso stuff is the same compound found in Wasabi, mustard and horseradish.

I didn't plant radishes in the 2010 garden at Dexter Woods.

Well, perhaps more on the vegetables later (like the imperial ground hog called pumpkin).  I'll finish with what the title of this post is-- The Backyard War Zone.  Forty-seven different insects, lots of deer, lots of rabbits, and an occasional bird and racoon resulted in this gardner conducting chemical warfare. Additionally, a plethora of invasive weeds always needing to be dealt with. 

In defending against animals, I'm beholding to the fact that in our subdivision, we cannot build fences except around swimming pools. "No fence shall be erected or placed on any lot except as necessary to safeguard a swimming pool which the Trustee has approved for that lot. (AMENDMENT NO. 5, JULY 8, 1992)"  With a numerous foe attacking the garden, what are my choices?  I opted for chemical warfare.  I must say to the environmentallly conscious reader, that I love this earth and see there is a great duty and benefit in being careful with our environment.  I've also learned that there are several chemicals and concoctions available on the market that will do the job of a backyard defender of the garden without producing harmful side effects.  Yep, chemical fences that keep the deer and rabbits at bay.  Yes, chemical spray to partially eliminate harmful surface insects and chemicals for weeds.  With the weeds, a constant dose of the hoe and the hand are warranted as well.

One of the insects that caught my attention early was the one that seemed to entirely infest the imperialist pumpkins--

 

Though this isn't a picture from my garden, this is what I saw.  They completely covered the pumpkins. A few shots of something from the local Lowes completely eliminated them.  As long as I am diligent, I am master and commander in the backyard battlefield of the garden.

No, the owl wasn't effective. I think they are mainly used for scaring pigeons away from office building and bridges.  I don't have an office building, bridge, or a pigeon in my backyard.  So why did I ceremoniously bring the owl back to the garden again this year?  I dunno-- maybe just a tradition now. 

Growing a Boy, Growing the Children

...  there was another lesson that rapidly descended upon me I was completely unprepared for...


I was growing a boy in the garden.  Making straight lines, bent over planting seeds of corn and pumpkin.  Raking up hills for the zucchini and yellow squash starters.  Watering and weeding and protecting from pests.  These activities and others quickly led to conversations about life.  We talked about soil being life (I think the boy made this observation) and weeds being those ugly things that can choke us from spiritual things if we don't consistently monitor them and strive to keep our lives (soil) free from them.  Through the sweat stemming from the hot Missouri sun and humidity, we just talked about life.  I marveled that this simple experience was providing some ever-so-precious time with my son (and, those daughters who were inclined to join me from time to time) in a seemingly mundane activity.  We were growing closer, growing in understanding, growing our lives together. 

On the 30th day of August of 2004, on what I recorded as a "beautful, cool summer day" in my journal, I noted the following, "Upon commenting in Sunday school yesterday about teaching our children (following President Kimball’s counsel to plant a garden), I wrote down the words that had come to me. Jeanette revised it slightly to read:  “The seeds planted in the garden of his (Sumner’s) soul are greater than the seeds planted in the ground. And the harvest is eternal for the fruit will nourish him forever.”

And, what are the seeds?  Seeds of family, memory, life lessons, and spiritual things; seeds of a father who loves him and of a home at Dexter Woods.

Just a Garden?

One of the first lessons coming from the ground was the sensation of being close to something again.  I felt connected in some way as I spread the soil around the garden, tilled it, raked out the clods, and evened it out.  The smell of the earth that you read about so often described in various outdoor episodes seems lost in print but truly comes alive in the garden.  It is as though our smell and sense of feel was created just for this-- and that it is something very familiar to us.  Take a deep breath of that earth!  That's a scent as good as Jeanette's baked bread, or the smell of her perfume close in, or fresh lumber, or the smell of a baby's room.   I suppose, if' it's not already there, that the smell of freshly tilled dirt in the garden is one of those 14,000 Things to Be Happy About. (http://www.thingstobehappyabout.com/). That's a family favorite book by Barbara Ann Kipfer; a book that gets pulled out on a Sunday afternoon while we snack around the kitchen table.  Yep, freshly tilled dirt is already added to this boy's version of 14,000 Things.

And, no wonder the ancient Egyptians were known to design personal perfumes to elicit various emotions and inspire thoughts. Apparently, Egyptians believed that the sense of smell and the ability to detect odors was the most important of the sensory abilities. It doesn't take much personal reflection to remember how we feel when we smell our own personal list of the greatest of smells -- relaxed and happy, satisfied and less anxious.  Pick your favorite smell.  Think of it.  Does that bring a smile to your face or heart?  No wonder it is a blessing from Heaven to have the ability to smell; to perceive something by an odor or scent.  In fact, one little plant that I added to the 2010 Dexter Garden is lavender.  Now that's an odor that seems to pervade both nose and soul!

Well, as precious as these things are, there was another lesson that rapidly descended upon me that I was completely unprepared for...

The Start of the Dexter Garden

Several years ago, Jeanette persuaded me to plant a garden. This was a big deal. Perhaps ten years previous to the successful tearing up (that's like ripping up, shredding; not like crying-- but I did that too-- for a while) of an absolutely gorgeous Missouri backyard lawn, we lived in Carlsbad, New Mexico. Nine inches of rain a year. Rocks for grass. When we moved to wonderful Chesterfield, I had two requirements for our soon to be new home (Well, there were a lot more but these are pertinent to this post)-- a big lawn and a sprinkler system. Both came with Dexter Woods.

Anyway, we decided to plant a garden in 2004 (I just checked my journal) and set about removing the turf in about a 10x12' or 15' area. It was painful to trade turf for dirt but, alas, I had acquiesced. That particular point of deference to my companion was a marvelous turning point for me personally. (More on that later.) We had some soil trucked in and soon began the planting of our new Dexter Garden.