The opportunity arose today, to engage in another one of my favorite pursuits. I call it meandering. We hop into our truck and explore the surrounding countryside, taking scenic back roads and discovering new vistas of the southern Wisconsin landscape. Often we have no destination, the fun is being surprised by the journey itself and the discoveries we make.
Our part of the state is rich with incredibly beautiful scenery, which I plan on sharing in future posts since I left my camera at home.
Today, we headed west, through rolling hills and cornfields as far as the eye can see, interrupted only by stands of hardwood trees and the occasional lazy stream. Everything is lush, ripe and green, waiting for the harvest soon to come. Cows of every variety and color fill the pastures and barnyards, placidly grazing or relaxing in the shade.... we are America's Dairyland after all and we love our cows.
Wisconsin is also home to many Amish families. We pass their quaint farms and I am awed at the lack of any modern amenities. Today, one family's horse was hitched to their buggy, waiting to travel on a highway shared with motorized vehicles. Another farm had the hand wringer washing machine sitting on the front porch, a cooler and more scenic spot to launder their clothing and just a few steps from the clothesline where they hang them to dry in the summer air. A different world altogether than what we are familiar with.
So, our meandering adventure was a success. I feel very peaceful and grateful that I am able to live in such beautiful, natural surroundings, close to the land and its seasonal rhythms.

My home is the center of my world. I've lived in the same house for the entire twenty-eight years of my marriage, creating every aspect inside and out, crafting the home of my dreams. We've all seen the magazines featuring dream homes that have every imaginable luxury and comfort that money can buy.......and it takes a sizeable amount of money to make those wishes materialize. How many people dream and wish and postpone their happiness until they attain that mythical house that will allow them to live the wonderful life they imagine?

As a child, I would amuse myself by planning what sort of house I would live in, how I would decorate it and what I would do there. Being an avid reader with an overactive imagination, my dream abode was an underground burrow in the woods and all the woodland creatures would be my neighbors. I would host tea parties, plant hollyhocks beside my kitchen door and live happily ever after.

In reality, my husband and I built a new house in a new subdivision to start our new life together. I was completely in my element, choosing the floorplan, colors, cabinets, and all the myriad details and choices that go into constructing a home. We made a conscious decision to live in a small, affordable house, to make it our own using creativity and ingenuity. It became our "dream" house because we choose to see it that way. I don't want to postpone my life until all my hopes and wishes come true. After all, it's not the material aspects of a house that makes it your dream. It's the life well lived within the walls of a house that truly makes it a home. By the way, I do love to host parties. I've planted hollyhocks (and hundreds of other perennials, trees, shrubs, herbs, fruits and vegetables) outside my kitchen door, and the little woodland creatures are my dearest and closest neighbors.

On this beautiful August morning, I notice a subtle change in the quality of light shining across the garden. It has taken on a softer golden hue, the color of late summer in Wisconsin. I can see the flower borders slowing down, the riotous colors and rapid changes of the early growing season is now replaced by the steady yellow- orange of black-eyed susans, creamy hydrangeas and maroon heleniums. There is a lazy languor among the butterflies and nectar drunk bees....and me. No more rushing to get everything done in our too short growing season. It's all been done and now we can finally slow down and just enjoy the pleasures of the late summer garden. I want to hang on to every golden moment and impress them into memories that will sustain me through the long winter months ahead. For all it's fleeting beauty, I am a willing slave to the garden and all of it's charms, whatever the season.

It's now August and I am deep into the harvesting season, canning and freezing the garden's bountiful produce. The Blue Lake green beans are the first vegetable I preserve and they are the most work. Each individual bush has a hoard of beans dangling from the plant, and it takes

several minutes to pick them all. Multiply that by nine rows and there are a whole lot of beans! Picking is just the first step and I normally fill a paper grocery sack every three rows. My back usually protests this exercise and it can get tiring, however, the fun is just beginning. Next, I have to "snap" each bean into small segments and take the ends off. I usually do this while watching television as it can take a good two to three hours for this step.

Now the actual canning process can begin. I have to gather all my equipment, including the vintage pressure canner that I inherited from my Mother. This canner has stood the test of time and provided our family with pint jars of vegetables too numerous to count, for over 40 years. Having grown up with my Mother canning most all of our food and enjoying the taste of home grown vegetables, I have continued in my Mother's footsteps and each summer is a flurry of planting, growing and harvesting. Yes, it is a lot of work, but believe me, the taste of summer goodness continues all winter long and I know exactly what has gone into my food, or rather, what hasn't gone into my food. The tally is now at 32 pint jars, and the beans are still coming. I also cook up a huge pot of them with bacon, mushrooms and onions, which is a treat we look forward to and only make when the beans are seasonal and at their peak.

Their is nothing like the sound of a canning jar lid when it pings and signals that it has sealed. You know all that summer flavor is safe and will be savored until the next harvest season rolls around.