Happy Holler Daze, Chapter One: There’s No Present Like Time

The pretty leaves are falling. Halloween is a distant memory. Lawn furniture is going into storage. And now … oh, no, here come The Holidays!

For those in charge of the holiday plans, this time of the year can be anxiety-producing. First, there is the culinary coordination of Thanksgiving. Then, seemingly before we’ve digested the feast we’ve shared with family and friends, there’s Black Friday. We put ourselves into this mode of gift buying, wrapping, decorating, cooking, spending, spending, spending, like a madness taking us over, and call it … hmmmm … consumerism syndrome. Go to any retail venue and watch the parents with pinched faces trying to secure a must-have item.

We’ve been trained to believe we need all of these things – these bits and pieces made in factories all over the globe – in order to be happy, feel appreciated, feel loved. Let me tell you what it really is: a load of marketing crap! Yes, I, too, will do some shopping. I, too, will reminisce over Christmases past where ripped wrapping paper was strewn over the floor and exhausted grown-ups were passed out after the holiday meal. I’ll participate in the madness to a certain degree; no one wants to be called a Scrooge. But I’ve come to believe that Christmas should mean something else, not a mad dash to the finish line. Christmas in bygone eras was rather different.

As I recall, my father always looked forward to the dinner. He also appreciated a package of handkerchiefs, a box of chocolate-covered cherries, a pair of woolen socks. As a boy born into abject poverty in 1918, Christmas celebrations were Biblically based. The mass marketing that turned this time of the year into stockholder sugar plum dreams hadn’t materialized yet, if you’ll forgive the pun. He enjoyed simple foods, along with nuts ready for the cracking, while at the ancient upright piano, his mother and grandmother played the old-time Christmas carols: “Oh Come All Ye Faithful,” “We Three Kings,” “Joy To The World.” I wish he were alive today so I could make him his favorite mince pie and hold his hand just once more. But his time ran out nearly two years ago.

My mother’s childhood began nearly a decade later in 1923. Her childhood memories of Christmas past include fine meals laid out by her hardworking mother, whose kitchen talents are now legendary. They might have spent most of the winter months eating baked beans, potato soup, and cranberry sauce sandwiches, but for Christmas there was always a leading star on the table. Whether it was a beef roast or turkey, my grandmother somehow produced it for her children. Her father would travel to New Bedford and bring home oranges or apples and a favorite treat, rock candy. These were the highlights of their holiday celebration, as I don’t think gifts were available or even popularly given in their economic strata at that time.

With parents whose holiday backgrounds were so modest, you won’t be surprised to learn that when they could, they did provide everything to their children. Therefore, my Christmas memories are much richer in terms of stuff, loot, gifts under the tree.

There would always be the stocking, not hung by the chimney with care because we never had a fireplace, but instead pinned to the back of an upholstered armchair. In the toe, we’d find a 50-cent piece, a delicious apple, an orange, some candies or nuts, and rising out of the top a chocolate covered marshmallow Santa. When the year had been profitable for Dad, we had plenty of gifts. There were, of course, those gifts that were still considered necessary, like new underwear, socks, or pajamas. Yet these sour notes were leavened by a Shirley Temple doll, a Howdy Doody puppet, or in later years for my brother, a cowboy play set that included the Lone Ranger and Tonto. One year, I got the gift-of-all-gifts for a little girl: toy kitchen appliances, pots and pans, and real fake food. I was in kid heaven!

When things didn’t go so well for Dad’s business, somehow my mother still managed finances well enough to give us something we wished for from the Sears and Roebuck Catalog. As we got older and understood the miracle of Christmas wasn’t Santa, but instead our parents’ ability to provide a warm, comfortable home for us, we tempered our expectations and still they strived to give us what they never had had themselves – possessions.

Today, my 90-year-old mother understands that possessions are meaningless. Sure, we had the momentary innocent joy of playing with toys while our parents looked on confident they had done the right thing and spent money that might have found better use in a savings account. But when she was a young wife and mother in post-WWII America, she, along with dad, embraced the growing belief that possessions denoted success. She knows better now, but no one is listening. I wish she could still walk so I could bring her home with me, have her surrounded by my growing extended family, and sit beside her in the glow of the Christmas lights. Her time is running out.

Because I was trained to be a consuming Christian, when my son came along I tried to provide for him as my parents did for me at Christmas time. The big difference is that I also understood the importance of time. Since I worked outside the home from his infancy, I appreciated my time with him. Time was the biggest gift and my undivided attention is really all he wanted.

All those possessions I gave him not only for Christmas but other celebrations, too, are now stored in plastic containers. Matchbox cars, Lincoln Logs, Star Wars spaceships and characters, Batman and Robin figures, The Six Million Dollar Man set, cases of storybooks, barrels of Legos, all stand in silent testimony of my love. What does he remember most of all these things? The time we spent together playing with them. Time.

We still have holiday parties and give gifts. With five grand-daughters (now all nearly grown), one grandson (four years old), and three great-grandchildren, we’ve had to be more conservative in our gift-giving policy. It isn’t what they want, anyway, not really. What they want is to come together as a family and tell stories about staying overnight with us when they were little kids and all the fun things we did together. They want us to look at them now and be proud of their accomplishments, talk to them about their future hopes, and maybe make their favorite holiday fare for the dinner table. They want us, not possessions.

Yes, I love a sparkly Christmas tree adorned with my grandmother’s antique ornaments at the very top. I love lights shining on a dark Christmas Eve when all is still and we once again wait for the arrival of Christmas morning. But what we want most of all is the gift of our children’s time, to have them slow down from their busy schedules and say, “It’s good to see you.”

As you begin the preparations for your family celebrations, whether they are religiously based or otherwise, maybe among the items you’ll be giving to your loved ones will be a tiny box into which you’ve placed a note saying something to the effect of “This is a gift certificate worth more than money can buy – I give you my time, redeemable as you wish, but please don’t wait too long.”

By Marilou Newell

New England gardeners far and wide know that in the winter, plants, shrubs, and trees, although appearing to be in a dormant stage, are still hard at work. Root systems continue to grow and seek nourishment as long as the ground remains unfrozen and temperatures moderate above a constant freezing point. Perhaps more importantly, however, are the bad guys: mold spores, bugs, funguses, and all manner of disease can be silently making plans to ruin all of your hard work come springtime.

Gardening, even for us Nor’easterners, is a year-round labor of love. Paul, my frequently conscripted husband, knows all too well that I’ll be needing his assistance in order to keep our massive flower beds healthy, happy, and producing lush results.

Yet we, even after 23 dedicated years of actively cultivating this plot in paradise, are mere amateurs. As we dive into the browning piles of leaves to get the job done, my neighbors will hear me clearly call out, “Get the ibuprofen out of the medicine cabinet, dear!”

In preparation for the yard action this year, I researched online and obtained some pretty interesting gardening tips, which I’m happy to share with you. So put your lawn furniture away, and haul out the rakes and wheelbarrows – let’s go.

First and foremost, let me remind you, dear reader, that poison ivy knows no season. Oh, the leaves and vines may be dried up and hard to see after the first frost or two, but if you plan on transplanting or pulling weeds and annuals out of the ground, the treacherous roots may be there. These roots are just as problematic as the oily leaves are in spring. So make sure to cover all exposed skin, use disposable gloves to protect your hands, and shower immediately after gardening. In my case, I’ll just have Paul do those chores.

From the University of Illinois, I learned something I never knew before about gardening in the fall, and that is the importance of continuing with supplemental watering. I was relying only on rainfall to do the job after the heat of summer. Paul will have to get the hoses back out of the shed. Here’s what I learned: “Autumn is the time to prepare perennial flower beds for winter. In autumn, watering should be done on a continuing basis until the soil freezes and can no longer accept water,” said Sharon Yiesla, U of I Extension horticulturist. “Keeping plants well hydrated helps to maintain a good root system. It is from this root system that the plant will re-sprout next spring. ”Good watering, Yiesla noted, should consist of an inch of water every week between rainfall and irrigation provided by the gardener. Supplying that water in a good, deep, once-a-week watering is far more beneficial than sprinkling every day or two. A deep watering will encourage a deep, strong root system.”

From Iowa State University Extension Services, I found that what I’ve been doing for years really had a purpose other than simply making spring cleanup easier. I’ve always cut down flowers that had gone by in an effort to make the spring work less backbreaking. Here’s what Iowa State tells us: “The removal of annual and herbaceous plant debris from the flowerbed is very important. Proper sanitation decreases the chance of disease and insect problems in the spring. Diseases and insects like to use debris as over wintering ‘hiding places’ and they can then cause serious damage to plants in the following growing season.

Diseased debris should be discarded and not placed in a compost pile because temperatures in most compost piles do not get hot enough to kill all pathogens.

Another good idea is to remove annual flowers after a killing frost. In addition, perennials that show signs of disease should be cut back in the fall.”

We’ve always put down a layer of composted cow manure, allowing that to saturate and feed the flowerbeds through the winter months. Again I did this more for convenience, believing that by doing so spring and summer fertilizing would be less labor intensive. I’ve learned I still need to apply fertilizers in all season except winter. Roger Cook of This Old House fame discusses the importance of fall feedings on their website: “Fall is here and it’s time to fertilize. Taking the time to fertilize in the fall will strengthen your plants’ and lawn’s roots, giving them a strong base on which to thrive next spring.”

The first thing to understand about fertilizer is the formula, which is represented by three numbers, such as the common 5-10-5. The first number represents nitrogen, which promotes lawn blade and foliage growth; the second number stands for phosphorus, which helps root growth; and the third for potassium, which promotes cell function and absorption of trace elements.”

Cook also discusses that mulched beds make fertilizing even more important to the health of your plantings: “Fall is also a great time to fertilize shrubs and trees. In my opinion, all trees and shrubs need fertilizer, because most of them are located in mulch beds that use up nitrogen as they decompose. In addition, every fall we rake leaves off these beds, depriving plants of the nutrients that decomposing leaves would traditionally release. To compensate, I recommend applying one to three pounds of slow-release nitrogen per 1,000 square feet of bed and cultivating lightly.”

Who knew?!

One thing that has changed dramatically for my husband and I since we first began our garden games … we ain’t what we used to be in terms of physical ability. Back pain, no matter how careful we try to be, is a reality as we age. So, last summer, I began to look at my flower beds and considered remodeling them for less work without sacrificing season-long beauty. You may recall my bout with poison ivy and why I now know the roots are as hateful as the leaves, so be warned: Proceed with caution. What we did was thin out some very large overgrown patches of flowering perennials, making pathways that will allow easier access for cleaning and grooming the beds and bringing in more ornamental grasses. The pleasing result is more movement and architectural layering, which allows the flowering plants to stand out more strikingly. (Even if I do say so myself.)

You may decide that roses, although requiring more vigilant care, are a good choice for you, not so much bending down low. And for shady areas, the abundance of perennial low light plants is mind-blowing. My favorite garden beds are the shaded beds that require very little maintenance while giving so much lush rich color and texture to the yard. Those are all cut down this time of the year, again aiding in the health of the plants and the less intense spring cleaning.

While I think that as time goes on Paul and I would be better off with Zen gardens where he could just use his leave blower to groom the sandy angular beds, we’ll probably just soldier on as long as possible. As the stone tablet in my yard says, “An hour in the garden is good for the soul.”

By Marilou Newell

The Marion Natural History Museum after-school program had fun building and setting off our rockets on Wednesday November 6th.  Many thanks to board member Mike Cronin and our volunteers for helping to make this happen.  Our second rocket program has been scheduled for next Wednesday, November 13th. Please register through the Marion Natural History Museum as soon as possible as space is limited. Photos courtesy Elizabeth Leidhold