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July 29 Valley Life column

July 29 Valley Life Column in AG Weekly

When it gets hot, head to the fair

As I work in my garden, I’m reminded that it won’t be long until fair week. It seems early, but Shoshone and Glenns Ferry are already celebrating the approaching end of summer with county fairs and rodeos. Next week, Jerome will be celebrating, too.

I think Lincoln, Elmore and Jerome counties hold their county fairs early for people like me. While I’m busy wishing my tomatoes would ripen so I can make salsa, others around the valley are cooking up raspberries and apricots, hoping their prize preserves will bring home a blue ribbon.

There’ll be no blue ribbons for me. My garden this year is nine-tenths short of disappointing. Because of the wet spring, I had to plant my sweet corn twice. Here it is the end of July, and it’s still only 3 feet tall in spite of the large amount of water I give it weekly. It’s also pretty funny looking, tasseling out when it isn’t even as high as my knees. Midget corn, I call it, wondering if I have developed a new variety.

My two rows of peas produced enough for a couple of meals, which were delicious, but didn’t yield nearly enough to enter in the fair, and if my mother-in-law hadn’t sent over two cucumbers, I’d still be buying my cucumbers in the store. To make matters worse, my pumpkin plants act dormant, as if waiting for Cinderella’s fairy godmother to wave her wand and make them grow.

Like my friend Dixie, who starts the gardening season with a bang and then slowly loses interest as the weeds multiply faster than the vegetables, this year I’m losing enthusiasm for tending my garden. I can’t blame the weeds since I raise my vegetables in raised beds and they are easy to weed, but I do blame the heat. It’s hard to be enthusiastic about working outdoors when the temperatures continue to display triple digits. And, because the vegetables stop growing when it gets so hot, I’ve been tempted to pull up my struggling garden and feed it to my neighbor’s cows or grind it in to compost.

But then all my hard work would go unrewarded and I know from experience as soon as the weather cools down my garden will start producing again.

So maybe I’ll just take a break from gardening and go to the county fair. You’ll be sure to recognize me, I’ll be chomping on an ear of fresh corn (which I didn’t grow) or munching on a mustard-slathered corndog. Either way, I’ll be the one with the big floppy hat, sitting in the shade.

Dear readers, just a note to let you know that this is my last column for AG Weekly. I am still writing, putting all my energies into my novels. Wish me luck in finding a publisher and thank you for all your support.

July 22 Valley Life Column

July 22 Valley Life Column in AG Weekly

Battling Annoying Pests

If only the ants would go marching two by two, I might sing, “Hurrah, hurrah.” But this summer they’ve been marching by the hundreds to my shower, over my kitchen floor and across my counters. I’ve even found them in the dog food bowl, which is almost as disgusting as finding them in my dishwasher.

Since I have small pets and a yard full of birds, I try to avoid chemical controls. But I also want to keep my house ant-free so here’s what I did to get rid of my indoor ants.

The first thing I did was clear my kitchen of all open food. Then I emptied the dog food bowl and keep it that way until the dogs are ready to eat. Next, I wiped down the floor and the counters with a mixture of vinegar and soapy water to eliminate any ant trails. Then I turned on the dishwasher, set it to the hottest setting, poured in some soap and vinegar and let it run for an hour.

So far, that’s seemed to stop those little buggers. But just in case they return, here are some other non-toxic ways to control ants I found on the Internet. Now, if those ants return, I’ll be ready.

• Remove all open food and any moldy leaves near the foundation where ants like to nest.

• Sprinkle cinnamon, ground cayenne pepper, black pepper or chalk at doorways and anywhere you repeatedly see ants. If that doesn’t work, try peppermint or other dry mint leaves.

• Place bay leaves or whole cloves behind canisters on counters, or anywhere ants appear.

• Sprinkle diatomaceous earth (found at pet stores or lawn and garden centers) around foundations or anywhere ants appear. It will cut up ants quickly and is not dangerous to humans or pets unless breathed in quantity.

• Spray vinegar around doors and window frames, under appliances, and along other known ant trails, or locate nests and douse them with vinegar.

• Feed ants uncooked Cream of Wheat, Malt-o-Meal or cornmeal. They carry it back to their nests to eat. Supposedly, ants can’t digest the food and eventually die.

• Create a barrier of clear dishwashing liquid or insecticidal soap by dabbing it on surfaces ants appear.

• Mix sugar with an equal amount of borax. Ants will carry it back to their nests where they will eat it and die.

July 15 Valley Life Column

July 15 Valley Life column in AG Weekly

Salmon Falls Creek no place for novices

When friends John and MaryAnn asked my husband and me to navigate Salmon Falls Creek in a canoe, we said yes without hesitation. This was something we often talked about but never made time to do.

“Bring a lunch and plenty of water,” John said. “And don’t forget your hat. It’s going to be hot.”

I’m not a hat person, but I do have a big floppy hat I inherited from a lady who loved to fish. My husband on the other hand prides himself on his massive hat collection, ranging from golf to racing hats. You name it, he probably has it, but he’s particularly attached to a tan and gray camouflage-looking baseball cap that has “Pansy Driver” embroidered on the back in big purple letters. This is the hat he chose to wear the day we floated Salmon Falls Creek.

With a picnic lunch and a cooler of beer, we put in at the launch site a couple miles south of Jackpot, Nev. It was a nice sunny day with no wind, and we were eager to try our hand at canoeing.

“Most of the time,” John instructed, “all you will have to do is steer. The water will carry you along.” He didn’t tell us we would have to anticipate the turns, which proved to be swift and numerous.

The first five minutes of the ride were fun. The scenery was pretty, the area secluded. We sang "Row, row, row your boat," as we maneuvered downstream. Then the hydraulics picked up and we were tossed from bank to bank like ping-pong balls, tangling with the willows at every turn.

We had just set ourselves free without tipping and were patting ourselves on the back for a job well done, when bang, we were stuck in the bushes again. I paddled hard, trying to pull the canoe away from the bank.

“Stop!” my husband yelled. He was pinned under a bush, his face bleeding, his favorite hat dislodged and floating away with the current. Holding on to a willow, he was trying to reach his hat without tipping the canoe.

“Get my hat,” he yelled at John and MaryAnn who were ahead of us and doing what we should have been, keeping their canoe in the middle of the stream and out of the bushes.

As we watched his hat float away, I offered him my oversized fishing hat. A redhead and fair-skinned, he needed it more than I did. He refused and chose to suffer, but not in silence. Every new corner brought a mouthful of words that can be loosely translated as “Who said this was fun?”

When we finally pulled ashore, after bucking wind and slack water for two miles, we were exhausted. I was still laughing, trying to make light of the day. My husband went straight for the beer.

It’s been almost a month since we paddled that canoe. When recanting our tale to other canoeists, we’ve been told Salmon Falls Creek is not a stretch of water for beginners. “Try Silver Creek,” they advised. “That’s nice and easy.”

If you are fishing at Salmon Dam or canoeing Salmon Falls Creek and reel in a camouflage-looking hat with “Pansy Driver” embroidered on the back in big purple letters, give me a call. Maybe, if my husband gets back his hat, I’ll be able to get him in into a canoe again.

July 8 Valley Life Column

July 8 Valley Life Column in AG Weekly
Consider herbs for gift-giving

It might seem too early to be thinking about Christmas, but that’s exactly what I’m doing as I work in my herb garden. The lavender is just starting to bloom, the oregano is almost 3 feet tall and the dill fills the air with the smell of pickles.

Busy harvesting my herbs before they go to seed, I know many of the herbs in my garden will make perfect Christmas gifts — lavender wands to tuck under pillows or in with lingerie, herbed butters to spread on warm cornbread, or garlic salt for pasta and popcorn. Who wouldn’t welcome an array of dried organic herbs including oregano, rosemary, basil, sage and fennel tucked in a basket with recipes on how to use them?

My noncaffeine drinking friends enjoy baskets filled with herb teas. Using recipes from some of my herb books, I put together batches of “Crazy Tea,” a blend of catnip, chamomile and strawberry leaves guaranteed to “calm a hysterical nature,” or “Immortality tea,” a combination of lemon balm, rosemary and sage. The sage is supposed to make you wise, and the rosemary is said to strengthen the memory.

Herb teas are easy to make. I like to tie clean herbs with ribbons and allow them to dry naturally as a bunch, then the dried leaves can be stripped and used as needed. Or, I dry the leaves and put them into small packages or decorative canisters. Either way, they make excellent gifts.

Alfalfa, angelica, anise seeds, bergamot, borage, German chamomile, dill, elderflowers, fennel, horehound, lemon balm, lemon geranium, lovage, marigold petals, mints, rosemary, sages, thymes and sweet woodruff can all be used to make teas; the blends are as wild as your imagination.

Another popular gift is herbed vinegar. With no fat and few calories, herbed vinegar makes an excellent salad dressing. Stored in decorative gift bottles, it looks great in the kitchen and makes an attractive gift. A favorite of mine is basil and garlic in white-wine vinegar. I use it in pasta salads, which allows me to reduce the amount of mayonnaise and provides a zesty flavor.

As a general rule, use 1 cup fresh herbs or ½ cup dried herbs to flavor 1 quart of vinegar. Pack 1 to 2 cups of fresh clean basil leaves and up to 3 cloves of garlic into a sterile quart jar, bruising the herbs in the process. Fill the jar with vinegar that has been warmed but not boiled. Use white-wine or cider vinegar for best flavor with a 5 percent acidity level. Cover and let sit for two weeks, then pour into decorative bottles, top with a cork and label.

It may be July, but that doesn’t keep me from singing, “Christmas is coming,” as I tend my herbs. I know from experience that Christmas will be here before I know it.

July 1 Valley Life column

July 1 Valley Life column in AG Weekly
Grandpa gets ‘fireworkinated’ for grandkids

I can’t believe it’s already July, not that I’m complaining. Actually, I’ve been looking forward to July because that means school is finally out in Vancouver, Wash., and soon my three grandsons, Dmitri, Dante and Kennedy, will arrive for their annual summer visit.

Last year, while the boys were here, we celebrated Kennedy’s second birthday with a trip to McDonald’s, a pirate birthday party, and later a display of fireworks orchestrated by the boys’ father and grandfather. While the boys and I sat on the steps and watched the fireworks, we clapped our hands and cheered at the skyrockets and roman candles. We stomped our feet and hooted at the duds. When the men ran out of fireworks, Papa Paul lit a handful of sparklers and ran around the yard, drawing circles and writing his name in the darkness.

“Boooooo,” I encouraged the boys, who were having so much fun hooting and hollering they followed my lead.

Later, as I helped the boys get ready for bed, I asked them if they had had a fun day. “Uh-huh,” Dante nodded, his eyelids heavy with sleep. Kennedy was still wound tight from his sugar high, running around the house in circles like only a 2-year-old can.

“Yeah,” Dmitri said.

“What part did you like best?” I asked.

“When Papa was fireworkinated.”

“Fireworkinated?” I repeated, wondering if I had heard him correctly.

“Yeah,” Dmitri said. “That was cool.”

“Cool,” Kennedy repeated as I tried to settle him into bed with goodnight kisses.

As I turned out the lights and crawled into my own bed, I couldn’t help but smile. Hanging out with the grandkids, learning a new word -- “fireworkinated” -- and seeing fireworks again through a child’s eye, now, that’s what I call cool.

Miracles Excerpt: "Pahchulaka"

I have stood here before, when winters are wet and the river swollen with runoff, and felt the overlook's metal girders under my feet tremble and vibrate with the force of the cascading water. With thousands of gallons of water falling over the rocks, Shoshone Falls can be too big for words.

But today the water barely trickles over the edge of the rocks, diverted instead to irrigate crops in this southern Idaho desert. Even so, what I see is impressive. As I look at the sand-colored rocks, I remember how, as a teenager, I climbed on those rocks and walked where, in high water years, I could have been swept over the edge and plummeted into the turbulent river hundreds of feet below.

No one is walking on the sand-colored rocks today. We're in the middle of another drought year, the fourth one in a row, and the river is low enough that I can see small puddles where water is starting to settle.

"It isn't Niagara Falls," a tourist beside me says.

"I know," another answers. "I'm from Boston, and, yes, this looks nothing like Niagara. But I'm sure it's impressive when the water's running."

"It's higher than Niagara," I interject. "Some say as much as fifty feet."

"Really?" They both turn and look toward the falls.

"Is this where Evel Knievel tried to jump the canyon?" the one with the camera asks.

"No," I laugh and point downstream. "But several people have been swept to their deaths here. One summer a daredevil rode a canoe over the edge and lived to talk about it."

"No kidding?" They stand on their toes and peer over the railing. One of them whistles.

"Enjoy the park," I say, walking toward a knoll. I don't tell them I've visited Niagara Falls too. But Niagara didn't leave me speechless, not like Pahchulaka. There's no reason to tell them that I prefer the tranquility here in the park surrounding Shoshone Falls over the confusion of the aerial tours, tourist boats and yellow slickers continuously bombarding the falls at Niagara.

June 24 Valley Life Column

June 24 Valley Life Column in AG Weekly

Celebrate summer watching butterflies and ladybugs

It’s summertime and anyone who owns a farm knows that the living is anything but easy. With cows to milk and hay to mow, the lengthening days and warmer temperatures mean more time outdoors working. Even so, it’s a glorious time of the year with beautiful sunsets, the smell of fresh-cut grass and farmers’ markets.

If you were to stop and talk with a farmer, and if he made time to lull his tractor to visit, you might hear him complain about the wind or the price of crops, but you wouldn’t hear him complain about sleeping with the windows open or lounging in a hammock. People who farm for a living are people who like to live close to the land. They appreciate the simpler things in life like fresh peas from the garden and new red potatoes.

I don’t farm for a living, but I do look forward to summer almost as much as I look forward to Christmas. Summer means I can neglect the housework and spend my days outdoors weeding the garden or doing what I like to do best, walking around my yard in circles, oohing and aahing at a new daylily or a budding rose.

Right now, the evening primroses are blooming and every time I make my circle, I stop and inhale the delicate scent, tipping my nose with yellow pollen.

Like that farmer who likes to sleep with his windows open, now that summer is officially here, you won’t hear me complaining. Instead, you’ll find me outside contemplating butterflies and ladybugs or tipping my ear to the jingle of the ice cream truck. After sunset, you’re apt to find me sitting on the porch gazing at the sky, maybe even making wishes upon shooting stars.

If you listen closely, you might even hear me sing, “Summertime, and the living is easy,” because even though I know summer is anything but easy, it’s still one of my favorite seasons.