Old-Fashioned Gramma’s Garden

Lots of us dream about accomplishing something that makes others shake their heads in wonder. My funky lifetime wish has been to grow an old-fashioned gramma’s flower garden full of purple, blue, and pink larkspur and bachelor buttons; orange, red, and yellow Indian blankets; lavender cosmos; yellow and white daisies; and multi-color hollyhocks. Despite lifetime efforts and lots of money spent on seeds, it’s taken me 40 years and aspringtime of gentle, well-timed, ample rains to make my dream come true.

The irony of this beautiful flowerbed makes me chuckle. I left town and abandoned it to Mother Nature’s care for weeks. During that time, it had no encouragement. No weeding, no fertilizing, no thinning out plants, no early morning sitting on the paving stones dreaming about the pretty bouquets I hoped to harvest and  display in my kitchen window. Apparently, dirt and seeds enjoy benign neglect because I drove up after that absence to spy thriving pinks, purples, blues, lavenders, whites, yellows, oranges, and reds spilling over garden borders and waving wildly  in evening breezes. They were everything I’d hoped for all the years I’d planted store-bought seed and carefully tended previous endeavors.

So, the next irony in this story is that girlfriends gave me hollyhock and larkspur seeds a few years ago. I then harvested bachelor button and Indian blanket seeds that I’d planted two summers ago and sprinkled those among my friends’ gifts. None of this year’s crop came from miserly garden shop packets. Nope, these were homegrown. Two fellow gardeners and I collected dried pods from previous years’ growth, separated the tiny seeds, and then saved them in paper bags to share.

The hollyhocks, bachelor buttons, Indian blanket, and larkspur took a year to gain a solid foothold in my yard. Last summer, I had scraggly, hesitant blooms--nothing like the towers of frothy color dancing boldly under this spring’s sun. In addition to the rain helping, I suspect good old Kansas breezes had something to do with the expansion of my plantings. A few seeds blew south and started new growth. Then stout southerly winds tumbled the majority of them north across our driveway until they landed in a bed of wood chips. Imagine my surprise to see them take root and grow.

By allowing nature to take its course, I ended up with stunning flowers in places I didn’t sow them. Initially, I thought I’d pull the unplanned starts, but I’m glad I didn’t. Not only do I have a new bed of larkspur and bachelor buttons outdoing itself on the other side of the drive, I have hollyhocks in places I never expected to find them. They proudly belong.

Perhaps letting Mother Nature do her thing in the sowing and watering is the secret to a successful old-fashioned, Gramma’s garden. That saucy anthropomorph has done a stellar job  taking seeds friends gave me, multiplying and then tossing them in the wind, and raining on them to show me how to get the job done. I’m going to help her out by harvesting, drying, and passing on these tiny power packs of beauty to my daughters and my friends.

A Window to the Past

Not long ago, I wrote an article about my interest in stained glass and shared photos of windows at Cottonwood Ranch in Studley. Several people said they wanted to know more about them. This topic is a mystery in progress, but I have more to share thanks to Don Rowlison, ranch curator.

The first Pratt settler, Abraham, an English entrepreneur first immigrated to Kansas in the late 1870s. He bought 160 acres along the South Solomon River, where he occupied a dugout. Despite the rustic conditions he faced in Kansas, he saw possibilities and returned to England where he convinced his oldest son John Fenton Pratt to return with him. Once here, John bought 160 acres of his own property from the Kansas Pacific Railroad on the north side of the river. Both men continued living in the underground home until the mid-80s when brother Tom helped them construct a single- roomed native stone structure on John’s property.

Along the way, the elder Pratt consolidated the towns of Skelton and Carl into Studley, named after a landmark in his native England. Then he established a lumberyard and ran it in addition to the agricultural endeavors he shared with his sons.

Due to the closing of the cattle trails and opportunity created by the 1883 depression, these men created a Yorkshire-style sheep operation. Through the mid-1880s, they replaced south-aligned sod buildings with native stone until they completed the traditional English structures and fencing visitors now observe at this historic site.

As the family became more successful, the ranch house developed from a single room stone structure to a lovely Victorian home with a parlor, dining room, kitchen, bath, and multiple bedrooms. To enhance its prairie presence, John or Jennie Pratt ordered four stained glass windows from the Studley lumberyard.

Those who have visited Cottonwood Ranch today know that they hung one window in the dining area, one called Lavender and Lace on the north side of the  kitchen, another larger design titled Buttons and Bows above their then-modern tin tub, and a still striking oval design  in the guest bedroom.

John was a meticulous record keeper and recorded when he ordered his windows from his father’s lumberyard. A researcher familiar with the records and era speculated these were shipped from Chicago, perhaps from the Sears or Montgomery Ward catalogues. That information is uncertain; however, John’s books indicate he frequently bought from these merchants.

We know the name of the designs in the bathroom and the kitchen.  Thanks to John’s records, we know the bathroom glass cost the handsome sum of $7.87. The delicate oval window visitors see from the front porch was more dear. According to his accounts, Pratt valued it at $16.83.

These prices seem cheap by today’s standards, but according to a site detailing 1896 wages, Kansas laborers averaged $2.50 per day. I’m guessing pay was lower in western Kansas where this ranch is located. Even at the stated daily wage, a person would have to work half a week to buy the less expensive product and six days to purchase the lovely oval design. Based on the windows installed in his house, raising sheep was profitable for John Fenton Pratt.

It’s worth a trip to Cottonwood Ranch to view these lovely art forms and to visit with Don Rowlison who has an encyclopedic understanding of this family and their role in Kansas history.

Mosquitoes and the Food Chain

I spend considerable time in Northwest Wyoming where growing populations of grizzlies and black bears remind me humans are not the dominant species in the Greater Yellowstone Eco-system. Every year a hiker or hunter runs into a creature that thinks Homo sapiens are a food source. Prepared individuals have their bear spray or weapon close at hand to fend off such unwanted attention. Unfortunately, locals tell stories about those surprised by these beasts who don’t survive the encounter. Such tales set a nervous person on edge, but recent news reports about insect-borne damage and disease make me realize these mammals aren’t humans’ worst nightmare.

It’s bad enough to think about a colony of termites silently chomping their way through the wood supports in your home, wreaking havoc. I know an individual who bought an older residence and began remodeling only to discover millions of these tiny creatures digested his studs and supports into a holey mess. Even if homeowners find these insects in time to prevent massive structural damage, they’ll pay a pretty penny to destroy the colony and then fund maintenance treatments to keep future invaders away forever.

In another creepy-crawly story, a family we know recently discovered bed bugs hitchhiked home with them from their workplace. Fortunately, they caught the infestation early, but again it was a financial drain to wipe out these uninvited bloodsuckers. Just thinking about them makes me itch so I’m sure those fighting them directly suffered worse mental tortures.

While the mammals and bugs I’ve mentioned inflict horrific damage, newspaper stories from around the world inform us that nasty as they are these aren’t our worst fears. Aedes mosquitoes, known in the past because they transmit yellow fever, also carry the Zika virus and produce nearly as many headlines as current political candidates do. Scientists first identified this disease in the Zika Forest in Uganda in the 1940s. Since then, it has spread to multiple continents, most recently including South and Central America, Mexico, and the Caribbean. Southern America is on the radar.

In most cases, this disease related to dengue fever and West Nile virus causes unremarkable symptoms such as mild headaches, joint pains, and reddened eyes. In many cases, victims don’t even know they contracted it, or if they do, a Tylenol handles their complaints. In worst-case scenarios, the pathogen passes through a mother’s placenta to her fetus, causing microcephaly, a condition resulting in intellectual and motor disabilities. Concerns about this life-altering issue are affecting fertile women’s travel plans and attendance at the upcoming summer Olympics in Brazil.

When I read about young mothers delivering infants affected by this virus, I realize my fear of bears is over-rated. After all, in bear country, I have control. I carry pepper spray any time I’m in their territory and know if I use it correctly, the spritzed critter will race away. At this point, humans can also manage termite and bedbug infestations even if it puts a whammy on bank accounts and sets imaginations on overdrive.

Unfortunately, civilization hasn’t won the mosquito wars. We still battle malaria and yellow fever, and now we know these winged destroyers transfer a virus that humans can pass to their unborn with disastrous results. It’s beyond humbling to acknowledge something as small as a mosquito owns the top of the food chain.