Lifescapes

Being Astonished

A sure sign of fall here in the Hill Country: the eryngo (Erygium leavenworthii) is in bloom across the meadows and pastures. This stiff, sturdy plant looks like a thistle--feels thistly, too, if you are so foolish as to take hold of that spiky flowerhead. But it belongs to the parsley family. One of its Eastern relatives, Eryngium aquaticum, is called rattlesnake master, for its long use by Native Americans as a remedy for snakebite.

Doesn't feel much like fall, though. The afternoon temperatures are nudging 100 and rarely fall below 70 at night. So while I'm heartened by the eryngo's message, I'm not putting a lot of stock in it.

Book report. Busy days, with two books on the writing desk, in various stages of completion. I decided to get an early start on The Last Chance Olive Ranch (China Bayles #25, due in March 2016) because my second author-published novel, Loving Eleanor, is coming out in February 2016, and that will be distracting. Better to get China's mystery finished early, if I can. Learning lots about the Texas olive industry and olives in general, and making good progress: working on Chapter 5 this week. 

I'm also working on Loving Eleanor. which should come back from the copy editor today. I've been compiling a Pinterest board for that book. As I work through the copyedited manuscript (the story of the 30-year intimate friendship of Lorena Hickok and Eleanor Roosevelt), I'll be reorganizing the board materials into chapter-related segments, aiming to illustrate each chapter of the book via photos/clips on Pinterest. I'm also beginning to compile lists of potential reviewers: if you're a book blogger and might be interested in reviewing the book, let me know (susanalbert01 at gmail dot com). The website is currently under construction: you can see a draft here.

Story Circle Network report. For its upcoming 20th anniversary, I agreed to return to the presidency of this unique international women's writing community, the nonprofit organization I founded in 1997. One of my favorite SCN activities: StoryCircleBookReviews. We feature books by/for/about women, mostly indie publishers and self-publishing authors. Our review team is quite remarkable. If you'd like to join us as a reviewer (published reviews are a good addition to your writing portfolio), click on the link on the top of the page for information, or email me.

There's a long Labor Day weekend coming up. I hope you're planning something you really want to do. I am: writing, reading, and being astonished by this wonderful world...

Reading note:

Let me
    keep my mind on what matters,
which is my work,

which is mostly standing still and learning to be
    astonished.

--from "Messenger," by Mary Oliver

 

Writing Spider at Work

Every year, here at Meadow Knoll, just outside the kitchen door, a writing spider (a golden silk orb spider) sets up shop and begins to spin. I can't prove it, but since the webs are always in the same place, I suspect that the spider is the daughter of the spider who lived and spun her web in that place the year before. I love watching her spin. I particularly like the decorative  ZZZ zigzags in the middle of her web, which are designed (so say spider researchers) to stabilize the thing so it doesn't tear to pieces when a large and unruly lunch lands in the middle of it. It's those zigzag filaments that have given her the name of "writing spider."

I have a different name for this spider. I call her Penelope, in honor of the wife of Odysseus, who--to deflect ambitious suitors--spun (and unraveled) a shroud for her absent husband, promising to remarry only when she finished her weaving. A master spinner, deft and quick, my Penelope has woven a web of an impressive size: some three feet by three feet. (And yes, this is definitely girl power: only the females spin webs.) Her web is designed to catch flying insects (breakfast, lunch, and dinner). I've read that to make this masterpiece, Penelope has spun a non-sticky thread into the breeze: when the end snags on a branch or leaf, she walks carefully along it, spinning another but stronger non-sticky thread, then--at an angle--another, until she's constructed a large frame, within which she goes to work, weaving. As a weaver, Penelope is good. She is very, very good.

In fact, the spider silk the golden orb spins has become a prized item. Recently, the Museum of Natural History in New York City put on display a rare piece of silk weaving, produced by these spiders--with a little help from humans.

 

According to an article in Wired Science: "To produce this unique golden cloth, 70 people spent four years collecting golden orb spiders from telephone poles in Madagascar [the golden orb spiders there are known for the rich golden color of their silk], while another dozen workers carefully extracted about 80 feet of silk filament from each of the arachnids. The resulting 11-foot by 4-foot textile is the only large piece of cloth made from natural spider silk existing in the world today." The extraction process didn't injure the spiders, who were released back into the wild. (Imagine the stories they spun for their spider friends when they got home!)

Book report. Spinning my own stories here. I finished Loving Eleanor this week--more or less: I'll probably still tinker with it. It goes to my copy editor in early August and will come back to me in September. Expecting to have review copies ready by mid-October (publication date: February 8, 2016). I've been working with a cover designer (the one who did the cover for the Lake Union edition of A Wilder Rose)--hope to have a cover for you to peek at in another week or two. Next on the writing desk: the memoir I've been working on with my brother John.

The bookstore is open! We'll have a limited number of signed copies of The Darling Dahlias and the Eleven O'Clock Lady, so if you'd like one, better order it now.

Garden report. I'm inundated by a tsunami of tomatoes: making gallons of tomato sauce for the freezer. Squash by the bushel (and you can eat only so much squash), okra too; watermelons and cantaloupes, coming soon. It's been a banner year for the spring garden. But a bunny ate the tops off my sweet potato plants, so unless they come back from the root, there won't be any sweets this fall. Gardening in a world of deer and rabbits: always a dicey business.

Reading note. Spiders are anti-social, keep pests under control, and mostly mind their own business, but they somehow summon fear in humans who are far more dangerous, deceitful and have hurt more people. Of the two I'm more suspicious about the latter.--Donna Lynn Hope 

Milkweed and Monarchs

I love this tidy little plant, blooming now across our meadows--and so do the Monarch larvae that feed on it exclusively. Like other milkweeds, this one (Asclepius asperula) contains toxic cardiac glycosides, which makes the adult Monarch distasteful (truly!) to potential predators--a handy way to stay alive in the highly competitive world of nature. We have plenty of this lovely little flower in our pastures: our cows won't eat it, for the same reason that birds won't eat Monarchs. It's toxic. And it tastes bad.

This plant has healing properties, too: it's been used to treat various lung ailments and as a tonic to strengthen the heart. I think about this as I walk the dogs in the morning. These days, we all need strong hearts--and just the sight of this little perennial gladdens mine. It's a native inhabitant of this place, truly at home in its small and very ordinary corner of the earth, as I aspire to be. And that, all by itself, is a healing thought, and I'm grateful.

You probably know that Monarchs are in trouble, and that the situation is likely to worsen. As a Monarch food, milkweed is indispensable, but as our wildlands are disappearing, so is this wild plant. For more information and seeds, check out this site. For information on planting and harvesting native milkweeds, look here.

On the road this weekend: heading to Houston for a talk tomorrow at the Herb Day Symposium and a book signing at Murder by the Book on Sunday. I'll be in New Braunfels next week, if you're in the neighborhood.

In the garden. The squash, cantaloupe, cucumbers, and zucchini are up and thriving. We'll have fresh new cabbage next week; this week, it's been snow peas. My favorite easy way to serve snow peas: steam them in the microwave, add to hot gnocchi, serve with butter and fresh parsley. There's something sacred (I don't use this word lightly) about eating food we've grown in the soil of the place where we live. If we could do that just once every day, just think how much more closely we would be connected to our place, to our planet.

Reading note. To inhabit a place means literally to have made it a habit, to have made it the custom and ordinary practice of our lives, to have learned how to wear a place like a familiar garment, like the garments of sanctity that nuns once wore. The word habit, in its now-dim original form, meant "to own." We own places not because we possess the deeds to them, but because they have entered the continuum of our lives.--Paul Gruchow

Native Herbs: Henbit

Henbit (Lamium amplexicaule) is flourishing this spring--if I allowed it, this little eager beaver would monopolize my veggie garden beds. A member of the mint family (but not very "minty" in taste), it began showing up in early January, one of the first green plants of the new year. It's been blooming since mid-February, to the great delight of the early bees, who have been swarming it for its nectar. And now that the hummingbirds are here, they've been enjoying it too. I pull a couple of handfuls every day for the chickens (it's called "henbit" because somebody noticed, way back when, that chickens love it). We enjoy it too, in salads, and cooked along with other spring greens (kale, spinach, chard). It's high in iron, vitamins and fiber, and in folk medicine, it's been brewed in a tea to treat rheumatism, fever, constipation, lethargy, and used as a poultice, to treat stings and scrapes. This little plant, now generally recognized as a weed, has had a long and helpful relationship with humans. The next time you see one of these little guys, pause to appreciate it and say hello.

Book report. Moved a lot of work off my writing desk last week. Blood Orange (China's 2016 mystery) went off to its editor at Berkley Prime Crime. I worked through the copyedited manuscript of The Darling Dahlias and the Eleven O'Clock Lady) and sent it back to Prime Crime, as well. (This will be the last Dahlias mystery for a while--there are other things I want to do.) This week, I've returned to Hick and Eleanor, for another work-through, for a possibly-interested editor. We'll see how that turns out.

Bittersweet. This coming week is a BIG week for China Bayles, with her new mystery out. Bittersweet is China's 23rd novel. Some readers may be uncomfortable with the hunting theme, but I have some very strong feelings about the deer-farming industry in Texas and have been wanting to tell that story for a long time. The book got a starred review from Booklist and praise from Suspense. Good news for a series that's been around since the early 1990s.

A Wilder Rose Giveaway. Mary Robinette Kowal has done a wonderful narration of the novel for Brilliance Audio. We're giving away two copies of the CD edition of the book (the true story of Rose Wilder Lane and the writing of the Little House books). Go here to enter (through 4/8/15). This is a book of my heart, one that I was simply compelled to write. (That's the best kind, believe me!) The new edition came out last month, from Lake Union Publishing, and is doing very well. I've put some free resources for the book, including a downloadable (and free) Reader's Companion, on the website. These will be helpful if your book club is reading the book.

Books I'm reading. I've just finished Book of Ages: The Life and Opinions of Jane Franklin, by Jill Lepore. I especially appreciated its juxtaposition of two lives: Jane Franklin and her better-known brother, Benjamin. You can read my review of it at Goodreads. I'm currently reading another dual biography: Hissing Cousins: The Untold Story of Eleanor Roosevelt and Alice Roosevelt Longworth. Dual biographies fascinate me, because the author has an opportunity to create a new way to see two people, one against the mirror of the other. Hissing Cousins is a lighter read than Book of Ages and 'm not sure that it fully exploits the possibilities, but I haven't finished it yet.

Book travel. I'm finding more pleasure in staying home with my garden and books than in traveling. But there are several events on the schedule for the next couple of months. Go here to take a look.

Reading note. Beware the woman who reads.--18th century admonition, quoted in Book of Ages, by Jill Lepore.

 

The Loveliest Thing in the Woods Today

The loveliest thing in the woods today: a redbud tree, in view from my study window, with daffodils spilling through the green grass around her feet.

But the redbud isn't just pretty. Dried and powdered, the inner bark was an important medicine for native peoples. Indian healers used it to staunch bleeding, ease skin irritations and poison ivy rash, and treat sores and tumors. Bark tea was drunk to treat diarrhea and dysentery and used (like quinine) to reduce malarial fevers and ease joint and muscle pain and headaches. The flowers were also steeped as a tea and drunk to prevent scurvy, treat kidney and bladder infections, and ease urinary ailments. And just in case you're wondering--yes, those pretty blossoms are edible, in salads, teas, syrups. And the immature seed pods can be eaten like beans. All this, and pretty too!

Big thanks to all of you who have boosted A Wilder Rose to the top of the Kindle charts, and especially those who have added your reader reviews. It's been an exciting week around here. Can you just imagine Rose, shaking her head and rolling her eyes over all the fuss?

Reading Note, from Rose Wilder Lane, Diverging Roads:

“I’m sure of one thing,” she said earnestly. “It hurts to . . . to let go of anything beautiful. But something will come to take its place, something different, of course, but better. The future’s always better than we can possibly think it will be. We ought to live confidently. Because whatever’s ahead, it’s going to be better than we’ve had.”

 

NICE: Mexican Plum

The butterflies and bees love the flowering trees as much as I do--and need them more. This skipper is feeding on the nectar of the Mexican plum that grows at the western edge of our woodlot and is blooming this week.

In the afternoon, in full sun, this tree is a hive of winged energy, every blossom cluster hosting an insect or two or three. The tree was so thick with buzzing insects that the blossoms seemed to be alive. Lovely sight, delightful sound. This tree (Prunus mexicanus) is native to the Hill Country, and one of the small trees designated NICE (Natives Instead of Common Exotics). We count ourselves lucky to have two. When the purple fruits are ripe, they're covered with a gray wild yeast that can be used to make sourdough, so I've read. I'd have to hurry to gather them, though: they're loved by raccoons, possums, and birds. 

Garden report. We've had three stretches of two and three nights of hard freezes (unusual for late Feb/Mar). But our average last frost isn't until the end of the month, so anything can happen. I covered the potatoes & peas and uncovered again this morning: the potato tops look frosted, the peas, spinach, and kale are fine. It's warming up this weekend, so I'll put the cabbages (started under lights) in the ground today or tomorrow. Time to clean out the chicken coop and mix the manure with the compost for an energy boost for the late-spring plants.

Book report. It's also time to stop foolin' around and get serious about finishing Blood Orange (China #24, April 2016). I know who did it, how, and why, but China doesn't know that yet. She has 10,000 words in which to find out. The deadline is the end of the month. I think I'll make it.

Bittersweet will be out next month. If you haven't entered the Goodreads giveaway (3 autographed ARCs), please do. Publishers Weekly included the book in its top mystery picks for spring 2015, it's a featured alternate in the Mystery Guild, and Booklist gave it a starred review: "Albert pulls in disturbing and timely topics—drones and deer breeding—for an engrossing and twisted tale." Be prepared for something different.

Books I'm reading. I've found a new author--new to me, maybe an old friend for you. Her name is Jane Smiley, and I'm currently reading A Thousand Acres. Next on my list is the first book in her trilogy, Some Luck. I admire her skill in characterization and the depth of her knowledge of farm country and farm people. Surprising, for a city girl. I'm also waiting for the release, next week, of Dead Wake, by Erik Larson, one of my all-time favorite authors and the very best storyteller I know.

But mostly, I'm waiting for spring. Bet you are, too.

Reading note: In the spring, at the end of the day, you should smell like dirt.--Margaret Atwood

 

 

Who Needs a Garden?

Who needs a garden? I can see these sunny coreopsis blossoms from the window of my writing studio. They brighten my day and remind me that the wild world all around is as beautiful as gardens--and a heckuva lot less work. These beauties make a very fine dye. A couple of years ago, I gathered a big basket of blossoms, dried them, and dyed some wool samples. In an acid solution, coreopsis produces a yellow dye; in alkaline, a red dye. (That's the short of it; the long of it is more complicated.)

The Hill Country wildflowers are splendid this year, because of the rain. The monarda (spotted horsemint is its less romantic name) is blooming along our gravel road. Meadow Marsh is full of basket flowers, and the buffalo gourd's bright yellow flowers brighten the old gravel road to the abandoned corral. Along the road to Burnet, the standing cypress is a brilliant red stalk, with white oxe-eye daisies and lantana (the wild sort) at its feet. Everywhere we look,we see something to make us smile--and to love this place on the earth even more.

And it's fawn-time. A week or so ago, we saw this little guy where his mom had left him, nestled in the grass. Last night at dusk, he was frolicking after Mom as she grazed through the meadow, pure long-legged, leaping joy, a celebration of ecstatic life and living. Something else to keep us smiling, and watching, and loving this place.

Kitchen garden report. But yes, we do need a garden, and the veggies are also doing well right now. In another week, I'll be making tomato sauce, and already we have zucchini and yellow squash to give away. The beans (Kentucky Wonder and McCaslan) are coming on, and I've planted the sweet potato slips that got off to a good start on the window sill. The girls are giving us a half-dozen eggs a day, and entertaining us to boot.

Travel news. Mid-week, Bill and I are driving up to St. Louis for the Herb Society's 2013 conference, where I'm keynoting. These days, it's rare for both of us to be gone at once, because of the animals. But for this short trip, a neighbor is minding the chickens, the dogs/cat are going to the kennel, and Blossom (the cow) is on her own. It'll be good to get away for a few days and see a different landscape.

Book stuff. I have two projects cooking at the same time right now. Most days, I'm working on the Darling Dahlias 2014 mystery, The DDs & the Silver Dollar Bush. The 2013 book, The DDs & the Texas Star, will be out in September. The other project is A Wilder Rose, my novel about Rose Wilder Lane--journalist,bestselling author, world traveler, and the coauthor of the Little House books--which comes out under my own imprint in October. The e-galley is posted on NetGalley now, so if you're a book blogger/reviewer and would like a copy, please email me at susan at susanalbert dot com and I'll send you an invitation to download it to whatever device you're reading on these days.

UPDATE: If you're a NetGalley reviewer and you want to download the e-galley, hang on. There's a display problem with the text. We'll get it fixed ASAP.

Blogging. I've been guest-blogging lately: a post on the tasks involved in getting a self-published book into libraries (not as easy as you might think!), and another on what compelled me to start digging into the lives of Rose and Laura. 

Reading note. Love makes you see a place differently, just as you hold differently an object that belongs to someone you love. If you know one landscape well, you will look at all other landscapes differently. And if you learn to love one place, sometimes you can also learn to love another.--Anne Michaels 

 

Texas Prairie Parsley & A New Book

The Texas Prairie parsley (Polytaenia texana) put on a big show along our creek this spring, in the Back of Beyond, and hosted a gang of swallowtail caterpillars, sometimes called by the inglorious name, parsleyworms.To show how much they love this plant, the caterpillars have literally denuded most of them. They don't seem to eat the blooms, though, so most plants are setting seed, ensuring the swallowtails a good food source for next year's caterpillars.

Prairie parsley is often called "wild dill," but it's not a good idea to substitute it for garden dill in food. It's a member of the carrot family and it has several poisonous look-alike relatives. The toxins are part of the caterpillar's survival scheme, however: the toxins make the parsleyworms taste bad, so birds avoid them. For other native plants that host swallowtails (and some lovely butterfly photos!), check out Carole Sevilla Brown's excellent post.

Book Report. I was delighted this week to get the proof copy of A Wilder Rose, which will be out in  October. I've received a great many proof copies in my nearly 30 years as an author, but this pleases me more than most because it's coming out under my own imprint, Persevero Press. The process has given me an inside look into the book business that I would never have had if I'd played it safe and gone with a traditional publisher. The review copies will be here next week and I'll be mailing them out. Review copies will also be available digitally and on NetGalley. 

This book is different, too, because it helped me revisit my past life as a research scholar. In the process, it led to an interesting and thought-provoking correspondence with a number of other scholars who have studied and written about Rose and her mother: William Holtz, whose biography of Rose, Ghost in the Little House, was an enormously helpful resource; William Anderson, Laura Ingalls Wilder: A Biography; John E. Miller, who has written three books about Laura, including Laura Ingalls Wilder and Rose Wilder Lane; and Anita Fellman, Little House, Long Shadow. I've included many references to their work in the Reader's Companion that will be available as a free download from the book's website, so you can see where and how their writings have shaped influenced my fiction.

And this book is really different because of the work that's gone into it. I began the research in 1990 or so. I simply cannot count the number of hours, days, weeks I've put into it over the past 23 years. I'll have to write a post on that, when I get a little time.

Reading note:  “Research" is a wonderful word for writers. It serves as excuse for everything.--Rayne Hall.