A Trio of Yoshinos

For many years, I have marveled at the stunning clouds of soft pinkish-white blossoms that grace the springtime landscape of the old C. G. Cloud Estate south of the square in downtown McLeansboro. The trees unpretentiously float in a profusion of florets that stand in stark contrast to the delightful smooth gray bark of the trunk and branches. Not a hint of green spoils the effect of the pink drifts.

These awe-inspiring trees are some of the earliest springtime beauties each year. Yoshino cherry trees are best known for their spectacular showing in the National Cherry Blossom Festival in Washington D.C. as they line the Potomac Basin and various landmarks in our national city. A native of Japan, the first Japanese flowering cherries planted in the nation’s capital were a gift from the mayor of Tokyo in the early 1900’s. Japanese legend states that each spring a fairy maiden hovers low in the warm sky, awakening the sleeping cherry trees with her delicate breath.

Enthralled with their stunning vase shaped canopy billowing with whitish pink blossoms on bare branches in the earliest of spring, it seemed fitting that a few might adorn our drive into Providence Prairie. When you pull into our entrance, you are sitting slightly on the downside slant of Pleasant Hill. From there, you descend downward toward Minikin Rill and then up before arriving at our home. I thought that a trio of these stunning trees would appear enchanting planted along the south side of the drive. While they won’t reflect in water, the effect will be very lovely of the long avenue. Sitting atop the driveway, by the mailbox, you could look down on the threesome and admire their splendor. As you sweep past them, their effect won’t diminish. When you are leaving home, you’ll first descend the hill over Minikin Rill and be surprised by their loveliness as you view them coming up from below. We’ve endeavored for over twenty years to create a haven of beauty to call home. These captivating trees seemed appropriate to become a part of the fabric of that canvas.

The almond scented flowers each have five petals in groupings of five to six blossoms and mature into small tart fruit. Yoshino cherries are an important food source for many small birds and mammals including robins, cardinals, and waxwings. The mature Yoshino grows to be 30-50 feet with a spread of 25-40 feet. They should slightly nod over the driveway charmingly.

On April 23 the trees arrived. The bare roots were then soaked in a bucket of water for a couple hours while we dug the hole of twice the depth and width of their roots. Everyone pitched in as some hauled well-rotted manure while others carried water and helped to plant. We carefully placed the trees and back filled the amended soil into the hole. Tamping the earth lightly with our hands, we finished the planting process and now await the future pleasure of a few weeks of fairy breath blossoms, followed by glossy ovate leaves above the silvery bark on the summer tree, concluding with a picturesque showing of yellow, orange, and red fall foliage.

~Rhonda

Our Day

Alarms buzzing, arms stretching, eyes unsealing, beds creaking.

Hushed whispers, closets opening, faces gazing out at the new day.

Deep breaths, quickly dressing, slippers gliding by the ones still sleeping.

Dismounting stairs, lights perk up, yawny greetings, brightening sun rays.

On our way.

Bibles shutting, brooms sweeping, cloths dusting, trash dumping.

Voices murmuring, suppressed laughter, six are now awake.

Daydreamers, hurry-uppers, shushing siblings, playful bumping.

Glove grabbing, coat snatching, minutes left till seven?

Only eight.

Front door opening, birds twittering, chilly air rushing, boots on feet.

Gravel crunching, roosters crowing, cats unfolding, feeding time.

Lambs skipping, water running, feed in buckets, hay so sweet.

Dog petting, cows lowing, horses neighing,

Animals are fine.

Children returning, book reading, pencils sharpening, the house is bustling.

Stairs creaking, feet rushing, noisy greetings, hugs from Mum.

Piano playing, word spelling, math solving, pages rustling.

Double checking, problem correcting, finished for now.

Yay, we're done!

Clock hands at ten past one, pots steaming, dishes filling, running late.

Chairs scooting, glasses tinkling, sounds of laughter, is everyone here?

Prayer finished, silverware clattering, voices talking, loading plates.

Cleaning dishes, table wiping, song singing, washing up.

Times so dear.

Sun in mid-sky, task assigning, tool gathering, garden toil.

Dirt hoeing, box building, seed planting, finishing a task.

Fire burning, barn cleaning, fence repairing, moving soil.

Weed pulling, tree planting, wood splitting, almost done.

Twilight at last.

Bell ringing, tool returning, hungry bellies, table redd.

Day recalling, smiling faces, hunger sated, cleaning up.

Teeth brushing, washing faces, pajama donning, fish are fed.

Silent reading, journal writing, packing Dad’s lunch, woodstove cramming.

Peaceful dusk.

Voices quieting, Dad reading, heads bowing for a prayer.

Time checking, knowing glances, pass between the eldest ones.

Book opening, children bursting, chapter naming, finding where we were.

Hearts racing, breath holding, sighs releasing, nightfall upon us.

Must we be done?

Hugs and kisses, doors locking, house resetting, Dad driving away.

Playful teasing, line for the bathroom, drinking water, are you done?

Stair climbing, music playing, lights dimming, goodnight to say.

Next day planning, into beds climbing, eyes fasten, silent prayers.

Good night, everyone.

~Halayah

Crawdad Catastrophe

Soon after my population of crawdads was reduced to 28, I got to thinking how hard it would be to catch and raise 300 crawdads at once. I then realized I had no place to store all 300 crawdads while raising them! Then I had a great idea, I decided to free all my baby crawdads and only catch and keep full grown ones. Then I would only have to care for them, and not raise them. But 300 crawdads all caught by hand would be hard work. I needed something to help me out a little. That’s when Mom suggested I make a crawdad trap.

After looking up how to make crawdad traps, I began making my own. I took some hardware cloth and began following the instructions. At the end of the first step, I had made a good-looking cylinder. Once I finish the first step, I ask Mom to help me on the rest, because the next steps were a lot harder. 

We started by cutting out and making a cone for each end of the cylinder. Then we attached them, one to a removeable collar and the other to the cylinder itself. Each end was open for crawdads to go into, but they couldn’t get out. Once that was done, we made a bait box, which was a small cage for holding bait, and we were done! It was now time to set it.

I connected some strong string to the trap, then filled the bait box with fresh fish and put it out in the pond overnight. 

The following morning when I went to check my trap, I found nothing in it! I once again left the trap in the water over night, and the next day found it empty. I was getting a little frustrated! I moved the trap to the creek, hoping to have better luck but when I went to check on it the following day, I only found a few little fish caught in it. 

I decided to leave the trap in the creek one more night before moving it back to the pond. That night however, it poured down rain. The next morning, I found that the left cone for the cylinder was gone from my trap! The rain had increased the speed of the creek, making the water strong enough to wash the cone right away! I looked around for the cone, and even walked a long distance down the creek looking for it. I still have not found the cone. As far as I know, it could be at the ocean! It would be nice to find the cone, but if I do not, I will just have to make another.

My plan for 300 crawdads is not really going as easy as I thought it would. Nevertheless, I still have five months left to finish my project. I have not given up. . .yet.

~Samuel

Anonymous Elf

Someone sits up on a tree,

Every day he looks at me.

He’s really high,

Up in the sky.

He’s very old,

Just as it’s told.

Our little elf,

Who’s in great health.

He’s coming out the door,

Perhaps to take a tour.

Try and find our little man,

Look really hard, see if you can!

Hiding up near a branch,

Find him if you get the chance.

Our anonymous elf's my favorite one,

He has been so much fun!

~Unique

Forty Years My Queen

April 23rd 1982 was the year Rhonda became a queen. I had just been crowned Prom King at Lynchburg-Clay High School and I knew what I wanted to do. Rhonda was my date for the event and during the first dance following the crowning I had a very important question for her. As we swayed back and forth to the music, I looked down at her and asked if she would go steady with me and be my queen? She looked up at me with those beautiful blue eyes and curly hair and to my delight she said Yes! Since that day, forty years have passed while our love has grown.

Our kingdom has had many adventures over the years and Rhonda has risen to the challenge on every occasion. 

From selling our comfortable home in Ohio and traveling with no destination in mind, homesteading without electricity or running water for four years, raising and educating ten children, or hiking 175 miles on the River to River trail without proper training, she has performed elegantly, allowing me to pursue whatever dreams seemed good to attempt.

The list could go on, as we built our own house, ran and was elected to political office, fostered and adopted children, started a music business, managed hospital labs, hosted prairie events at our farm, helped in churches, served in the National Guard, and the excitement never seems to end.

It continues to be a blessing to have such a wonderful lady to spend life with as time marches on. To be able to share together the blessing of children and knowing they are all baptized believers of Jesus Christ makes our joy complete. We currently enjoy the benefit of thirteen grandchildren with another on the way.

If you are familiar with the song “1982” by Randy Travis, it was surrounded with sadness at what he did not do. The song says:

Operator, please connect me with 1982.
I need to make apologies for what I didn't do
I sure do need to tell her that I've thought the whole thing through
And now it's clear that she is what I should have held on to

They say hindsight's 20/20 but I'm nearly going blind
From staring at her photograph and wishing she was mine
It's that same old lost love story it's sad but it's true
There was a time when she was mine in 1982.

Postman, can you sell me a special kind of stamp
One to send a letter from this crazy, lonely man
Back into the wasted years of my living past
I need to tell her now I know how long my love will last

They say hindsight's 20/20 but I'm nearly going blind
From staring at her photograph and wishing she was mine
It's that same old lost love story it's sad but it's true
There was a time when she was mine in 1982
Losing my mind going back in time to 1982

My story is a wonderful story of love and foresight with my queen, as we keep looking forward at what’s to come. It is not a story of regret, but of victory and excitement and I do not have to sing a song of wishing she was mine, because she is mine.

Since looking down at her forty years ago and asking that special question she has only become more beautiful. We smile together as we look at the past, enjoy our time in the present, and look forward to the days to come and the new challenges that will arise for us to share in. I am so thankful that the answer was an enthusiastic YES when we were a mere 18 years old in 1982.

~Mark McDaniel

Snakely Satisfaction

Recently, Jonah, Samuel, Unique, and I went to Contrary Creek to catch a few minnows for enjoyment. We got our BB guns just for fun and started off to the creek. We walked about the distance of our property, around fifteen minutes or so, but could not catch anything.

We were heading back to the house, when I saw a huge rat snake sitting in a tree. He was a couple of feet in the air.

I yelled to Samuel, “Snake, snake! Here’s a snake!”

Samuel came running up quickly. The reptile was staring at us with his round pupils from the branch in the tree. Samuel grabbed it behind the head while we watched. He tried to bite Samuel, but it didn’t work. Samuel was too fast, and he just snapped at the air!

We started going back home to put the big four foot snake in a cage so we could watch him for a while. We made a home for him in a glass aquarium. We put dirt and grass and sticks in it to let him climb. It looked excellent.

Then we put the snake in his new home. He did not want to go in, but he saw that it was safe. We had to take the constrictor out of the cage to let him slide around because he needed exercise. Halayah said that some snakes are ticklish, and this one was! When you rubbed his belly, he would shrink it in!

After a few days, we let him go because he was too big for the tank. We had a challenging time catching food for him, so we took him back to where we found him. He sat there basking in the sun before we left him to go free. He was satisfied to be loose at last.

~Isaac

I Found One!

A couple of days ago, we all went mushroom hunting! We got our buckets, bags, and containers and headed out into the woods. We started looking on the trail at the bottom of the orchard.

When we got to the end, Unique yelled, “I found one!” and I went over to see it. It was a little Morel mushroom, about three inches tall. Unique was overly excited to find the first mushroom this year!

We continued to look around the spot where Unique found hers, then I found one, too! It was a little bigger than Unique’s mushroom, about five inches long. I was awfully glad to find one.

Morel mushrooms are my favorite kind of eating mushroom. They can grow up to about a foot long! They are hollow on the inside and have little pits all over them, except their base. They like to grow in damp places, and beside old, rotted tree stumps and logs.

Yesterday, Unique and I went to look for some more mushrooms. We looked where we found the other ones a couple of days before, but we found none. I hope to find a bunch this year. Maybe as it gets warmer, they will come out more!

~Jonah

The Legend Of the Dogwood Tree

 

The dogwood tree, in legend,

 is a symbol of suffering and pain;

 twas twisted and gnarled in agony,

 It was spotted by Christ’s bloodstain.

 

In humility and meekness it bowed sadly,

for the cross from its bough was made;

but on the first Easter morning

In white blossoms it was arrayed.

 

Bursting forth in blooms of white splendor,

Each blossom a cross did form,

And each petal was marked by brown nail prints,

And in each center a crown of thorns.

 

The dogwood for centuries has told us

With its downy white petals so pure,

Of the precious gift Christ gave on Calvary,

And His promises that always endure!

 

Ada E. Tomlinson

Little Cakes

Mmm. . . I really enjoy the taste of tortillas, used for fajitas, tacos, and enchiladas, anything spicy, or simply as a wrap for various types of filling. Tortillas have been an item we usually depended on the store to provide for us.

We had tried to make our own tortillas in the past, but we never found a recipe that we liked or was easy to use. The traditional method of soaking corn kernels in a mixture of lime and water, to separate hull from meal, seemed a little time-consuming. So, we resorted to the store shelf for our needs. Recently though, my sister Rachel shared with us a tortilla recipe that was easy enough to make and that we all love.

Anxious to try out these thin, unleavened pieces of flatbread, which made Rachel say she does not want to go back to store bought again, Mama asked me to make the first batch. Surprised to find the most basic of recipes, I quickly set about mixing the flour, baking powder, salt, oil, and water.

Although I am not as quick as a specialized tortilla making machine, which can throw out sixty-thousand tortillas in one hour, making them did not take as long as I had expected with only a maximum of forty-five seconds cooking time for each side of the tortilla. There is no arm tiring, pan-swishing, dough throwing routine; No press to make them flat; 

Just rolling the dough into as circular a shape with the rolling pin as you wanted them. Besides, if they turn out a little lopsided or elliptical, it only adds to their home-made charm.

This form of bread, which derives its name from the Spanish word for “little cake” is more popular than bagels and muffins, by general US consensus. Soft and flexible, they were perfect for wrapping our breakfast burritos! Still warm from the cast-iron skillet, tortillas are a delectable addition to our menu!

~Halayah