The Reindeer Keeper

  I knew at some point the magnificent poplar tree standing proudly in front of our home would have to come down. It was showing signs of aging. It was getting tired. Because it was so close to the road, I worried it might fall on a passing vehicle. With great sadness I contacted who I needed to contact and shortly after that, the magnificent and glorious Poplar tee was taken down. I know it was just a tree but growing up I loved listening to the leaves of the Poplar trees lining my grandparents' cinder driveway. Their singing was music to me so when my son Brian and I moved to the country with that mighty Poplar tree greeting us with its own melodies, I felt at home. Sometimes when the wind was blowing in the night, the mighty Poplar would wake me up singing its soulful song. The rustling of its leaves was soothing, telling me everything would be just fine, lulling me back to sleep. Whenever I was out in the garden, the Poplar was right there with me, moving its precious leaves li...

    The little tree dressed up in its finest yellow leaves stands out back near the garden as proud as a young girl dressed up in her most beautiful gown when going to the prom. This is the first year I have seen that precious tree in such glory, as if the little Elves of Autumn came tiptoeing about under the Harvest moon and with their Elf paints and crayons, turned the little tree's leaves into shades of magical yellows, whimsical under the sun, and the moon, that breathtaking Harvest moon. When leaves on trees do change colors, it seems like it happens overnight. One day they are green. The next day they are glorious shades of crimsons, oranges, yellows. Their colors and aroma tell you Autumn is approaching. Hurry. Get ready. So much to do. Move lawn furniture inside. Close the pool. Get the rakes. Start raking. Clean the windows. Clear the gardens. Pour the cider. Get the sweaters out. Bake some zucchini cookies. Zucchini bread. Pumpkin bread and pies. Pumpkin cookies. Mol...

  I cut down the size of the garden this year by only planting basics. I'm trying hard to keep up with the weeds as well as the watering. Thanks to the rain that keeps on falling, watering has not been too much of a chore. In fact, the garden has become a labor of love. In years past, there was a separate garden for the pumpkins. The problem with that was the hose didn't reach it very well so I had to do the best I could. This year it was decided to only have the one smaller garden and within that garden, include the pumpkins. Having that one smaller garden has been ideal. The pumpkin patch is getting the water it needs. The pumpkin plants are healthy. Their vines are stretching out of the garden and tiptoeing into the yard. And yesterday while out pulling weeds, I discovered a pumpkin. A beautiful pumpkin covered up with leaves like a child wrapped up in a favorite blanket. As I kept on pulling weeds, I thought of pumpkin patches from years gone by. The reason for having a pum...

Remember the fun of coloring the clowns or the puppies and kittens and all the simple artwork in those coloring books when growing up? There was nothing better than sitting down with your Crayola crayons and your favorite coloring books and spending time simply coloring. Between the unforgettable scent of the crayons and the many choices of basic artwork in those coloring books, the time spent coloring was magical. And quite creative. Very creative. Just think. With your Crayola crayons you could color the sun pink, the grass blue, kittens green and puppies red. Stars could be purple. Bananas could be orange. Whatever your imagination chose, those familiar objects could change their familiar colors and dress up like its Halloween, disguising themselves just like we do. Summer is a never-ending coloring book with its pages beautifully colored by Mother Nature in shades of primary and secondary colors. Some soft. Some bold. With the warmth of the sun, summer's colors seem richer. The...

If I am in the kitchen and happen to look out the window, more often than not these days I notice a robin, moving about and then stopping, then moving about and stopping over and over again in search of something to eat. I think it is the same robin that did the same thing last year at this time because that particular robin has taken up residence in the same nest as last year. I hope the robin can't tell I put a Christmas ornament in the nest. It made the perfect decoration with snow all around. Funny how the seasons slip in and out of our lives as we hurry about. One day you notice that mountain of snow that you thought would never go away has melted and grass is in need of cutting. Spring flowers have pushed their way through the cold, blossoming just when you need a bit of color in the landscape, and your heart. Yesterday my son Brian and I went on our favorite cruise, taking us through Amish country. Signs of spring were everywhere. Roadside stands were opening up. Soil was be...

It's no secret that I have a sweet tooth. There's a drawer in the kitchen where I can go for a touch of sweetness during the day. But with summer in full gear, I now have another source of delight-a candy shop in the garden loaded with small, round, sweet, delicious cherry tomatoes. It's impossible to eat just one-or two so I don't bother trying. Sometimes when I'm hanging clothes on the line I'll bring a small bowl out with me. Before I hang the clothes I'll pick some of those delightful little tomatoes and put them in the bowl. Then as I hang the clothes I'll devour the tomatoes. I usually run out. So I'll go back and pick some more. It makes hanging the clothes a delightful reason to be outside near that little garden. Other times if I'm inside on the computer I'll have that bowl with me full of garden candy. As I go along I'll eat a tomato. Suddenly the bowl is empty once again. But not for long. I know I could throw those cherry toma...

Green beans fresh from the garden were favorites growing up. Whether my grandmother was feeding a hungry crew in from the fields during haying season or whether she'd prepared some green beans for a family summer get together in her backyard, her green beans were always so delicious. When we'd gather for picnics those green beans quickly disappeared. They were consistent in their taste. All she did after cooking them was add some milk, a bit of butter, salt and pepper. I can still see her sitting outside on the back stoop of her farmhouse in her house dress and apron, cutting the ends off the beans, then slicing those beans fresh from the garden. My mother sometimes sat outside to cut the ends off her green beans, then slice them into pieces but more often than not, she'd have me do it. Maybe that's because I'd snip those ends off in record time. Slice them just as fast and enjoy a few along the way. After they were cooked, she prepared them as my grandmother did. T...

The old tin can is back on the small table by the front door full of little garden gourds and other garden remnants found underneath weeds and overgrown plants with sprawling vines. As Christmas nears, the old tin can will hold gingerbread men fresh from the oven; some still steaked with flour and all without decorations or faces. They will remain in the old tin can through February. Many of those little garden gourds and other garden remnants were discovered by a six-year-old. Most every time he visited this past summer, he’d run out the back door to the garden to see what had grown since his last visit. One day he cleared a space between the carrots and zucchini and asked if he could plant something in his little garden. I found some leftover beet seeds in the garage. He was thrilled. Watching how gently he patted soil over the seeds, it was obvious he’d not only inherited the fishing gene, he’d inherited the gardening gene as well. When he was satisfied that the beet seeds w...

I was out back watering the garden the other day when the click clopping of hoofs on pavement caught my attention to a horse and buggy going by. I didn't think much about it since I still had a lot of watering to do. A few minutes later a familiar voice made me turn around. I was happy to find the young Amish girl standing by the carrot patch. Over the past few years she'd stop by selling whatever fresh produce she had from her family garden. That day sh e was selling raspberries. I was always an easy sell. Not because of the produce but rather because of her. I enjoyed her visits. Our conversations were lively. She was curious. She was smart. She was funny. Her eyes always had a spark. For a small frame girl, her voice was powerful. One time when she stopped my granddaughter was at my home for an overnight. She was mesmerized by the young Amish girl. But that day the young Amish girl was quiet. She did ask if my daughter was home. When I told her no she asked if my gran...

My grandparents had a few gardens but the one I remember most spread alongside the farmhouse. Being a kid I can't remember who cleared and worked the field in early spring or who planted the field later on but I do remember sitting with my cousin amongst the rows of carrots in that field-and eating as many of them as we could. I have no clue how long we sat there or how many times we sat there. Nothing like that mattered. I just knew every time we did sit in the carrot patch, great fun and a delicious meal were seconds away. If we pulled on a carrot and the top broke lose leaving the carrot in the ground, we'd dig deep into the soil all around it with our fingers and patiently free that carrot for our quick consumption. There were no hoses to clean the vegetables off back then but even if there had been we wouldn't have taken time to use them. You see, we firmly believed a fresh, vibrant carrot coming out from the soil was about the best tasting experience to be had when...