Gardens, food and Mother’s Day.
Yesterday I finally finished wading through the intimidating job of culling the 696 photos I took recently of a male Yellow-rumped Warbler preening after his bath. But when I finished I had no leftover oomph to process any of them so today I’m cleaning up a loose end, celebrating a favorite family recipe and, on Mother’s Day, recognizing one of the many positive influences my dear ol’ mom had on me.
Last fall I mailed amaranth seeds to a whole slew of blog followers and personal friends who had requested them. The seeds are tiny, almost microscopic, so the seedlings are tiny too and they’re very easy to miss. As a result, some folks never see them and end up tilling them under while weeding in their gardens.
But even though they’re tiny, they’re easy to recognize by color because they’re a distinctive red (tinged with purple in the right light). Yesterday I took this photo of some of my volunteer amaranth seedlings. In my garden they come up in mats wherever the seeds fell last fall and I simply “weed” most of them out, leaving the ones I want to grow to maturity. This photo was taken more than a week after they sprouted so they’re much larger than they are when they first emerge. The penny is for scale.
So, if you ordered amaranth seeds and planted them, this is what to look for about a week after they sprout. It’s kinda hard to believe that such tiny seeds produce…
such huge plants. Most of my amaranth plants get 9-11′ tall and a few of them as tall as 13′.
Birds love their seeds in situ, especially the various finch species. And hummingbirds in particular use my amaranth for cover in-between their frequent visits to my feeder. You know that the bird photographer in me is going to take advantage of a situation like that.
And speaking of gardens,
this is a photo of my rhubarb, also taken yesterday. I bought these two plants almost 40 years ago when I lived in Sugarhouse and transplanted them to my garden in Murray when I moved here about 30 years ago. They produce far more rhubarb than we can eat but yesterday I made an attempt to make a dent in it by harvesting a bunch and…
making rhubarb cobbler, using a favorite family recipe I got from my younger sister Sheila many years ago. When baked to perfection, which this cobbler was, it’s crispy, tart and sweet at the same time. With a little extra “crispy” thrown in for good measure. I love crispy cobbler.
Warm, with ice cream on top, it’s to die for. It truly is.
OK, on to Mother’s Day.
This is my mom, Lorna Prince Dudley, on her graduation from nursing school in Calgary, Alberta – I believe in 1944. She was the epitome of the perfect mother, even though the two of us were often butting heads with each other during my teenage years. Folks, including my dad, said the two of us were too much alike, so we were often at loggerheads. Here’s a prime example.
Mom was a practicing Mormon and she attempted to raise me that way too. Folks who know me can imagine how that turned out. During my later high school years when I was beginning to try to decide what to do with my life, Mom just took it for granted that I was going to college. I was far less convinced, in part because I just coasted through high school without ever really learning how to study. In the end she convinced me that college was the best route for me but that just brought up another huge point of contention.
Back then (1965), if at least one of your parents was a Mormon in good standing, you could go to Brigham Young University for free so Mom said (assumed) that’s where I was going. But I knew enough about BYU, and myself, to know that that just wasn’t going to happen – not a chance in hell. I wanted to go to either MSU in Bozeman or the U of M in Missoula. So for two years we battled about it. She wanted me to go to BYU for two reasons – it was free and, most importantly, it would keep me away from all of my party-boy high school friends who were going to one of the Montana universities.
In the end, after many epic battles, we compromised. I ended up going to Utah State University in Logan, far away from my high school friends in MT and over 100 miles from BYU (which was barely far enough for me).
As I eventually matured? I realized how huge my mom’s influence was on me, in a positive way. If not for her high expectations of me I’d never have gone to college so I wouldn’t have become a teacher, which for me was the perfect profession. And she was absolutely right – if I’d gone to one of the MT universities with my partying friends I’d have flunked out before my freshman year was over. I’m convinced of that.
So thanks, Mom. And Happy Mother’s Day.
Ron
I am late to this post and I am so happy that I clicked on it. Your mother was beautiful, Ron! My mom was a nurse too and I wish I had her graduation photo. Every nursing school had a different, distinctive cap. Mom tossed hers after she retired. How I wish she hadn’t. I love that the two of you butted heads over which college you would attend. Lovely compromise. I know she was filled with pride when you graduated and became a teacher!
I hadn’t heard that tuition was free at BYU but when I attended in 1958 it wasn’t. Can’t give you an accurate figure—seems like $300 a quarter, but it was a modest amount. My mother and I generally got along well but we had a humdinger of an argument one night throwing threats about college back and forth at each other. As to rhubarb, I’ve always loved it, especially in a custard pie made with my great Aunt Ruth’s recipe. Enjoyed your tales very much!
This post and all of your posts for that matter, give me a warm feeling AND a chuckle. Thanks for that, Ron.
I always read but never comment! But I just had to let you know how much I love your mom too!! She was so good to me and such a huge help to my mom and her little sister. Thanks for the fun post! Wish I was sharing that cobbler with you!!
Marsha
I wish you were too, Marsha. I had more of it as my lunch dessert today and it would have been fun to have shared it with you.
I love that the amaranth seedlings leaf colour is echoed in the flowers later. Their impressive growth reminds me of our tree dahlias which grow from nothing to ten to twelve feet each year. Sadly this year a freak windstorm has toppled most of them. The remainders ‘might’ flower before our first hard frost.
Your relationship with your mama reminds me of mine with mine.
I love rhubarb, known in our family as thumb after a brother’s mishap while preparing it. Thumb and custard was a much loved dish which I haven’t had in too long.
You made me laugh again, EC. With gusto. “Thumb and custard” – I love it!
Your mama would be proud of you—and she did raise you right! 💕
She at least TRIED to, Chris. Gotta admit though, I’m glad I stuck to my guns when it came to religion. And the dreaded BYU.
I’m looking with awe at your garden, especially all that rhubarb which is one of my very favorite foods. (Can one ship a cobbler across state lines?) Apparently, green thumbs must skip a generation in my family. 😉
My mom and I were also more alike than either of us cared to admit and butted heads often. My dad used to say — tongue in cheek, of course, being a science teacher — that it was because my mom was a Virgo and I’m a Taurus. (No, I’m not stubborn at all. 😂)
Happy Mothers’ Day to all, including those whose kids have fur, fins, feathers, or scales. And a very peaceful day to all who need it today. 💕
Thanks, Marty. My garden has been a challenge this spring because of my back. Rhubarb needs virtually no care so it makes me look better than I deserve as a gardener this year.
My neighbor just finished plowing my garden a few minutes ago and your post reminded me I need to get my shared Amaranth seeds in the ground. As “fine” as they are, do they even need to be covered or just sort of mixed into the top soil? Did you take a botany course while you were at Utah State?
I don’t know, Shirley. I never plant mine – they sort of plant themselves.
I never took botany until I transferred to the U of Utah.
I remember a photo of my mother (black and white, not sepia tint) whose hair style reminds me of your mother’s. Kind of an Ernestine the telephone operator look. My mother was actually a telephone operator, or a switchboard operator in those days.
I have a rhubarb plant in the garden I haver never eaten. I think your photo might be the inspiration to make a cobbler. Now if I can just find a recipe that uses tofu.
You’re right, Lyle. It’s Ernistine’s style! I hadn’t made the connection.
I love your life stories. Thanks Ron.
Good to know. Thanks, Deedee
Loved the very honest evaluation of the relationship that you had with your mother……pretty evident to me where a lot of your firm character came from !
Your rhubarb reminded me of my grandmother’s rhubarb patch, in which a cousin and I hid out in a rainstorm– the leaves serving as adequate “umbrellas”
for a couple of 5 year olds…….
“pretty evident to me where a lot of your firm character came from”
“Firm character” – a euphemism for stubborn. Dad always said that both my mom and I were stubborn. He was right.
Such a beautiful cobbler. Would you please share the recipe? I’ve got a lot of rhubarb that needs something done with it.
Catherine, I’ll try to get it typed up and added as an addendum to my next blog post. Either that or I’ll email it to you. I’d hate to see your rhubarb go to waste… 🙂
Recipe emailed.
Thank you so much!
Really nice Mother’s Day post Ron. I did not need you to mention the resemblance to your mom – I saw that the moment I looked at the photo.
Liked your college story. Funny, I just connected with a man here in Prescott who like me grew up in the Philadelphia area. He told his parents that he wanted to go to U of Montana Missoula and his parents said WHAT ??? He laughingly told me that to his Philadelphia Italian parents west was Harrisburg that is in central PA. They grudgingly gave permission and his dad drove him all the way to Missoula just so he could see where this foreign place was that his son was going to.
Happy Mother’s Day to all the FP moms.
Interesting MT story about your friend, Everett.
During my junior and senior years in high school I competed in the state track meet in Missoula (on the U of M campus) both years. That gave me a taste for college life in a partying college town so that experience only added fuel to my ongoing battles with my mother about where I was going to college.
Lovely words. They made me tear up and warmed my heart.
Take Care,
Kaye
Thanks very much, Kaye.
Very special post, Ron!! Loved hearing about your history with your Mom!! (and she was a beautiful woman,)
Thank you, Jo Ann. Yes, she was.
What the Amaranth seeds become reminds me of the mustard seed “somewhere” in scripture…… 😉 Noticed yesterday some of our native Pigweed was up so time must be right…….
We enjoy rhubarb several ways – the cobbler looks yummy! Seems to be an aquired taste for those of us who grew up in certain areas of the country – know quite a few who just can’t handle it.
Wonderful story on your Mom and you regarding school. It certainly DID work out for you…… 🙂
Mystery of Magpies hanging in/by the creek and low down in the Buffalo Berry brush across the creek has been solved(more or less). They actually have a nest in the brush 5 or 6′ above the ground – have NEVER seen one that low!
Happy Mother’s Day to all!
“Pigweed” – now that brings up memories from the farm, Judy. Not very good ones too.
The magpies on Antelope Island typically nest in sagebrush or greasewood that are no higher than the 5-6′ you mention.
Magpies here are generally WAY up in a spruce/green ash or cottonwood tree. Maybe these are “foreigners” 😉
Pigweed related to Amaranth as I understand it – no, it’s a challenge and always was (other than pulling easy) from my Dad dumping a load of manure on the garden each spring…….. 🙁
I believe you’re right. Pigweed is related to amaranth.
Thank you for sharing all that Ron.
It’s both amazing and a bit sad that it takes so many years for us to recognize some of the finer qualities and sage wisdom that our parents had. I know that is the case for me. That is a beautiful photo of your mother.
As for that cobbler, my wife would love to dig into that. He taste for all things rhubarb go back to her childhood says in Denmark. And boy, is she a great mom to our daughter.
Happy Mothers Day to all the moms out there!
“It’s both amazing and a bit sad that it takes so many years for us to recognize some of the finer qualities”
Michael, I’m embarrassed by how long it took me. My mom wasn’t perfect but she was close and that should have been obvious to me much sooner than it was.
What a nice tribute to your Mother! Mothers know best for their children and in the animal world you see that everyday in your photography. Thanks for sharing!
Thank you, Karl.
What a nice Mother’s Day post. I will say this: as much as I love Texas, and love living here, most Texans I know can’t make a decent cobbler. Yours looks just like mine, with that crisp, biscuity top. Unfortunately, we don’t get the rhubarb I grew up with in Iowa, but we have dewberries, blueberries, and peaches. I see a cobbler in my future!
“I see a cobbler in my future”
It’s contagious!
Wonderful stories about your mom and your adolescent years! I’m always suspicious of mom-teen relationships that are too good to be true 🙂
Terri, in some cases I’ve had similar suspicions. And in some of those cases I’ve been right.