Since our house sits right next to a large pond, you can imagine that we get a variety of water foul around here. We have our regulars, the cormorant and the Canadian geese, but then we also encounter a variety of duck who come and go, as well as the occasional egret and even once, [...]

Mom’s philosophy is that “You always need something to look forward to.” April is associated with a rhyme that reiterates what Mom was talking about—“April showers bring May flowers.” This rhyme dates back to the mid 1500’s but still encourages us today. It’s a statement promising a whole bouquet of hope if we just endure the present condition. Let’s face it, we all have a little rain in our lives sometime, but like my mom suggests, hold something on the horizon you can look forward to and it will make the “rain” much more tolerable…and joy experienced in the pure anticipation alone is worthy of the effort! For example, it helps stop the tears when I leave my beloved West Virginia if I already have a date set to return.

One of the best scenarios of this philosophy played out in history is the Easter story. The sorrow of Good Friday can be eased by the hope of Easter Sunday. If you get the chance to spend a few minutes in front of a computer, there is a beautiful and artfully done video of this on YouTube under the title Sunday’s Comin’ produced by IgniterMedia and powerfully orated by a pastor named John L. Jefferson. Friday might be sad, but Sunday’s a comin’. My friend, those May flowers are going to be exquisite!

I think we do have to be mindful though not to be so focused on the future that we miss the lesson of the present. There once was a young school teacher who left her mark by missing what was in front of her face. She was teaching school for the very first time and was attending the faculty Christmas party. After hours of fixing her hair and make up, she gathered her confidence and arrived at the front door of the host teacher’s house. She was so busy looking into the room to see if  anyone she knew was already there that she walked right into the clear storm door window, leaving an imprint of her make-up face on the glass and alerting the entire party inside so they could laugh hysterically at the new kid in the education pool. I (I mean she) had to check her dignity at the door and accept that she had made quite a lasting impression. Life lesson learned? Appreciate what’s in front of you. Anticipate joyfully the fragrance and beauty of May flowers but not at the expense of disregarding the April showers…

Sometimes the future is such that we can’t get a clear vision of what’s ahead. We simply don’t know what to look forward to! All we can do is focus on the immediate. Maybe the April showers are soaking us to the bone and we can’t see for the rain in our eyes. Sometimes it’s hard to be optimistic. Growing up on Red Gate Farm we would go check the sheep at night during lambing season, late March or early April. If the moon was lazy, the trek to the sheep-house was in total darkness save for the lantern Dad would carry. I can still see it illuminating his steel-toed rubber work boots that he’d buy each year with ginseng money. It didn’t matter that we couldn’t see what lie ahead of us because we trusted the one we followed. We might not be able to yet see the flowers of May, just trust that they are a comin’.

Mom’s right as usual, we all need something to look forward to,  whether it’s a talk with a friend, guilt free time curled up with a good book, a trip home, a walk in the sun…or a dance in the April rain.

Janet Fliegel is a WV farmgirl currently surviving in a suburb of Cincinnati. 

I wonder how many of us got into trouble with our mothers when we were children because we snapped off the flower buds of her tulips and daffodils? I certainly remember an occasion or two when I felt my mother’s wrath after handing her a bunch of unopened buds. I also remember some short-stemmed bouquets given to me by my young sons, their face beaming because they’d brought me flowers. Trying to get those poor stems into water was futile and all a mother can do in such situations is smile, hug her children and grieve silently for the gorgeous flower bed she will not have that year.

In some cases picking the flowers can be a good thing. Consider the violet, that lowly but lovely early spring blossom that turns shady corners of yards and roadsides a deep purple when in full bloom.  Violets are a tasty addition to salads, lending color, crunch and an unusual flavor. Violets were thought to mean modesty and tender love in Victorian “floriography,” which assigned meanings to the names of flowers. White violets were said to mean truthfulness, and if you dream of violets good fortune is coming your way.

Then there is the redbud, the shrub-like tree that graces our hills with its branches full of tiny purple-red blossoms to provide a fine contrast to the white dogwood. Did you know that redbud flowers can be made into jelly? I tried it two years ago and it was delicious, tart and sweet with a very distinct flavor. The flowers can be eaten and are crunchy in texture with a tart lemony taste. The redbud is sometimes called the “Judas Tree” because Judas supposedly hanged himself from its branches.

Later in the season roses come into bloom. Rose petals can be harvested for rose jelly, dried for potpourri, or scattered on a salad. Rose water is easy to make and is a refreshing spritzer. Red roses signify love while yellow roses mean happiness (although I have also heard exactly the opposite), white means purity and pink roses mean admiration, according to the Victorians.

Daylilies, or tiger lilies as they are often called, come into bloom about the same time as roses and are excellent when dipped into an egg batter and fried. I like to take each petal individually, batter-dip and fry them, then serve with a salsa dip. The buds can be mixed into soups and stews, and if you are quick enough in early spring, the young daylily shoots can be added to salads. They’re crunchy and sweet.

The ancient Chinese believed that daylilies were a symbol of filial devotion and thoughtfulness.  Elderberry flowers can also be eaten-they make a fine jelly, and can be used in cooking or prepared like the daylilies to make fritters. The elberberry plant was considered to have magical and not altogether friendly properties by the ancients; it was considered unlucky to break off a branch. Consider yourself warned!

Later in the summer, nasturtiums add a peppery flavor to salads and squash and pumpkin blossoms can also be harvested and prepared like daylilies, batter-dipped and deep-fried.  Nasturtium and squash must be too lowly  for notice since no significance was attached to either in the world of flower meanings.

As with all wild foods, do your homework and exercise care to be sure you have identified the plants correctly. There are many books that give accurate photos and descriptions of the edible wild plants, as well as websites with excellent information. But after tasting some of these flowers you may find yourself telling your children, “Yes, please pick the flowers!”

A professional storyteller, Granny Sue has several published works at http://www.grannysu.blogspot.com.

It all started a few years back, when I visited a friend who had three or four hens, and two small chicken tractors (mobile pens) that were maybe four feet wide, five feet long and four feet high. They were like little tents made from chicken wire, half covered in two cut-open lawn size trash bags.

Her hens laid their eggs in a hanging basket pot, hung from the high point of the tractor. Their water bottles were vinegar bottles, with one top side cut open, the handle wired to the wall of the chicken tent.

Every day she moved the tractor a little to give the hens fresh grass, and every evening let them out to roam for an hour or so before they went back in their pen at dusk.

I thought it was the most adorable thing I had ever seen, and… I then wanted hens of my own. My friend was more than happy to give me one of her no-longer-in-use chicken tractors she made, large enough for 6-8 hens. We loaded it into the back of my truck, and I brought it home, announcing to Frank that I wanted hens, and could house up to eight of them.

He groaned. And we compromised on four.

Now, at this point, I don’t know a darn thing about chickens. Didn’t know where to buy hens in the middle of summer, didn’t know what they ate, what their needs were, how often they lay eggs, how much they poop. But we had neighbors who were overrun with yard foul, and I asked for “four hens that lay brown eggs.” It didn’t matter what breed they were, or how old they were, I didn’t know anything about breeds or age or any of that. We came home with one black, one white, one red, and one peppered hen.

I named them all right off the bat. I looked forward to letting them out in the mornings, and would set my lawn chair in the afternoon shade so I could watch the four ladies pluck around the side yard I had thrown a make-shift fence around with old safety fence. Within a short period of time, they were fat and happy. That winter, I ordered “The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Raising Hens,” and the next spring, decided I wanted more.

Frank built a BIG chicken tractor. Not an adorable tent I could move myself. A huge framed coop covered with chicken wire, a metal roof, and full-sized door. HE could move it; I needed the John Deere mower to move it. But, at least he was getting on board with the hen idea. We purchased six year-old leg horns from neighbors for a total of ten hens.

Now, I didn’t realize that the first four hens were fat hens bred for eggs laying and for meat. Leghorns are fit and trim and don’t even give a fence a second look. Fat meat hens are too lazy to care what’s on the other side of the fence, as long as there’s plenty of food on their side.

But Leghorns are adventurous. They’re active. They’re curious. They want to know what’s on the other side of every fence they encounter. Want to see the view from the roof of the outbuilding, and from the back porch swing. Leghorns give fat meat hens the idea that the pickin’s are better on the other side of the fence. And then the fence is pointless.

When hens aren’t busy tearing up every flower bed in your yard, they like to sun themselves by the door you use when you carry their feed from the house. When one of the nameless Leghorns up and died one day out of the blue – I wasn’t that troubled. “They’re livestock,” I told myself, “and I’m a farm-girl now.” Besides, there were five other hens that looked just like it tossing the mulch out of my lily bed right there.

Frank, being a farm-boy and a man, wasn’t that bothered by torn up flower beds or poop on the porch. And I admit, since we get company so rarely, I spent more time trying to protect my flower and herb gardens than the porch.

And then Pepper died. You know, the peppered hen of the original four.  The Barred Rock hen I loved the most. I managed not to cry — barely. And when I saw someone post online that they had 20 Barred Rock hens for sale last fall, Frank agreed we would build some kind of chicken containment come spring, and we decided we’d get five hens right then. He came home with ten.

Well, since we were building containment in the spring, had regular orders for eggs, and two chickens tractors — I decided I’d get six fat, lazy meat-and-egg chicks last month. You know, in case grocery prices keep rising. I ended up with eight. They’re adorable, peeping from their wash tub in the basement, though their pen needs daily cleaning and our beagle Daisy is not quite pleased with their presence.

I’ve been pushing Frank lately for that promised chicken containment field. But I had that wifely feeling my nagging was battling a husband’s selective hearing – until today when he came home and announced that he’d just bought 13 more hens. I’m pretty sure it was the look he got from me that made him quickly follow up with, “I’ll start working on that containment field tomorrow.”

So, apparently we now own – what…. 39 hens? How did this happen? I’ve already posted the 13 new ones for sale online. And, we’re taking orders for eggs again as we eat egg salad sandwiches and deviled eggs for lunch. (Scrambled for breakfast, and pickled with dinner.)

And though I ordered chicks that all look alike so I couldn’t name them or bond with them, alas, one  looks different than the others. Her name is Ester.  And I know that she, and none of the others, will ever be meat.

The April 2012 Cover Contest was Joshua Stough of Calhoun County.

I feel confident that it is impossible for one person to keep up with the trends and developments of publishing today.

Click Here to download  Two-Lane Livin Magazine — April 2012 Edition for only 50 cents!.