The Mint Patch Monologue

Contributions Dedicated to

Preserving the Timeless Writing

of Gladys Bagg Taber for

Future Generations

The Mint Patch Monologue is meant to welcome any reader to enter a quiet space, to celebrate life’s simple pleasures, and to find encouragement. Inspired by the late Gladys Bagg Taber (1899-1980) my writing is dedicated to preserving her legacy. She was the author of 59 books, including the Stillmeadow books, and columnist for Ladies’ Home Journal and Family Circle. Her warm and friendly spirit lives on in her every page, this blog is a bridge to that comfort, may we all still experience it. I choose to follow her lead in life- to regard community and neighborliness, to have an earnest relationship with the natural world, to remain full-hearted in the face of grief, to give any curious recipe the chance for success but the acceptance of defeat, and to sit under the stars at the end of a long summer day with a grateful sincerity.

  • Turning the Corner

    This one into the fall, and I can feel my skin again. There was a briskness outside today, and instead of feeling encased in stagnant heat, the chill brought an awareness to my arms and my nose. The cool air went down smoothly into my lungs; I smelled the fallen leaves, I thought about playgrounds. There are delicate sheets of intricate webs hanging from tree limbs to slumped-over sunflowers, traps for the last of the flies. Around this corner there is no need for protective shade from heat or structure from harsh rain, darkness is creeping into my evenings. The cinnamon is left out, the oven has been busy. I resurrected the pumpkin sweater from the depths of my closet, and I looked carefully at wool socks while out shopping, but a new pair can wait. Everything can wait after turning the corner. If we don’t stop to savor the orange glow of fall we wont be properly tempered for winter and might freeze to death. Fall is like the last few bites of melted ice cream you really dig for at the bottom of the bowl, when it’s over all you can hope for is another one.

    The peach tree leaves are turning yellow, and I wish I could count them as they fall a bit more each day.  This week I’ll find myself decked out in flannel, raking up those leaves into a pile for the raised beds. Those are the moments when I feel like I’m in magazine photos, advertising for the newest outdoor brand. I might even pose for my own entertainment, maybe toss leaves into the air and laugh. Can you remember the last time you dove into a pile of leaves? I was always convinced there might be a snake hiding out among the swirling patterns, I was a cautious child. I insisted the leaves be stuffed into those plastic orange bags that had jack o lantern faces on them. Whimsy.

    Finally the magic, and mystic joys come to life.  A time we can believe Mr. Chicken after spending the night in that “haunted house.” Don Knots was a brilliant actor… the gardening sheers and the blood! Bless his heart, a hero in the end. I’m not a fan of horror films but I do have a checklist of movies I enjoy every year. For a complete list of my October watch list send me an email, I would love to share.

    This is a good time to build your indoor nest, drag out the electric blanket, unfold old quilts hidden in trunks, reach for those house shoes that have spent months hiding under the bed. Hats and scarves can wait of course, snow is a few weeks out and besides, let’s not get in a hurry. The sky is changing too, the sun doesn’t climb as high anymore and shadows grow long. My patience seems to grow longer this time of year too, what’s the fuss of being in a rush when there are stacks of fodder shock and dancing scarecrows to admire? Nevertheless the squirrels are in a mighty rush to prepare for winter, they are building nests too, and their busy scurrying is curious to watch.  There are folks who keep them fed at our own 47 acre Central Park, the spoiled little creatures carry mouthfuls of peanuts and on occasion, french fries.

    The slanted sunlight on the purple mums sends my soul into orbit, circling from one beautiful thing to another. A carpet of leaves, the full harvest moon, a decorated hearth, fresh pumpkin flesh scattered for chickens, hot coals, hot chocolate, plumes of rising smoke, Indian corn, candy wrappers, plaid bows, little candle flames, and buckets of gourds.
     

    Dearest reader, may you be fulfilled with the rich aromas and sensations of fall, address a letter to The Great Pumpkin, and dip your apples into as much caramel as a slice can hold on to.

    Thank you for reading, and drop me a line sometime, I DO love to chat!

    justicesarah67@yahoo.com

  • We should talk about Apples

    On my walk this morning I noticed a very sturdy tree, yielding plump and blushing apples. As the leaves have thinned, the fruit has a real  chance to show off in the golden sunlight of mid morning. I thought to myself, how tempting… just one! And then I wondered, do people even eat apples anymore? Of course they do or the grocery stores wouldn’t have displays of those perfectly uniform products all lined up and waiting to be sold by the pound. But my question is more… curious, as always. At what rate do people still plant apple trees, in comparison to a different time. A time when you’d get a phone call from the people up the road and they’d say “ we got a bucket of apples here for ya’ll”. Or better yet, they’d just bring them on over and if coffee wasn’t already on, it would be. Then you’d have a gift on your  hands and what would come first but pies, of course. Apple butter, apple sauce, dried rings, even homemade hooch. If nothing else then a sweet, crunchy snack to bridge your midday slump. What’s better than finishing an apple and chucking the core into the woods as hard as you can throw? Once upon a time school children presented the teacher with an apple and everything fell into place. One of the last times I ever sat with my great granny she had a bowl of little green apples in her lap, peeling them with an old paring knife, the handle and the blade held together with tape.

    That tree I saw was a portal to the past, I thought about Johnny Appleseed,  the mission he embarked on of growing trees from seed and his passion for conservation. I imagine Johnny found his way into our region along his way, I wondered if that tree was a descendant of his life’s work.

    I thought about neighborliness, community, someone to hold the ladder while you reached for the top. I’ve never looked towards an oak tree and wondered ..”who must have planted this tree”… but I did about that apple tree and every other apple tree I’ve ever seen.

    What inspires one to plant an apple tree? Perhaps having grandkids, or just for the sake of watching something bring forth food, something out of nothing. Maybe it’s because we want something to root for, to cheer on and to celebrate, or it might just be to hold hands with something nostalgic. Who had an apple tree in their yard from your past?

    In my yard there is a peach tree. I planted it 7 years ago and we have had nearly a dozen cobblers throughout it’s best producing years. People will warn of bees and other pests, or stepping into rotting fruit but it has been worth every nuisance. Nothing in my garden is more beautiful than rosy peaches in the hot July sun.   

    I needed a plan for Saturday anyways so in the spirit of the past’s portal, I baked an apple pie. I studied the label on a roll-out pie crust from the store and just couldn’t do myself that way, so I cut cold butter into flour and made a delightful mess for the sake of homemade crust. I peeled and cut granny smiths, and decided to find a recipe in an old community spiral cookbook. There is something special about a recipe donated for local fundraising and I’ve collected many of what I call “church cookbooks.” The one I chose was from right here in my own county, a series of recipes compiled by the Extension Homemakers of Boyd County from 1988. I was delighted to discover that the contributor of this Dutch Apple pie recipe was a lady I’ve come to know in the community, she is in her 80s now and I run into her from time to time at the neighborhood grocery store. I cannot wait to see her next, and to share with her this funny story of following her directions 37 years later.  I decided to add a lattice top, picture perfect.  
     

    In case you’re interest has been sparked- apple trees can be planted in late fall or early spring, and I can promise the first yield of fruit will be worth every effort.

    It’s hard to say how much apple tree planting is still alive, but I was happy to see this one. In a perfect world we’d have fruit trees in public parks, everyone would help to keep the trees healthy, and we’d have pie every night together.     

    I hope you get a piece of pie soon.

    Thank you for reading and as always drop me a line, I DO love to chat!

    justicesarah67@yahoo.com