Well-Swept Yard

The title of this blog has left some, maybe more than some, maybe many, has left people wondering about the significance, if any, of sweeping yards.  Sweeping is an old custom and for many people a lost skill. Done properly, sweeping creates a mood, a feel, a culmination of well-put effort. Done poorly, sweeping leaves a mess and causes people to reach for the medicine cabinet. Time was, and not so long ago, sweeping, sweeping with a broom I am speaking of, was an indoor skill (please do not mention "indoor" and "yard" and such--all in due course) that would make quick work of tidying things. Patent offices worldwide must have millions, maybe billions, of replacements for the broom and for the act of sweeping. Some of the claimed replacements are plain silly. Racking my brain I find no replacement of the broom as pleasing as the broom.  Swish is nice. Swish is more agreeable to the ear than vroom. Vroom. Need I describe? Of course not. You agree even if you sell Ele

  I sold that snapshot. I am sorry. It is a good one and a fine moral lesson. I should have kept the photograph and tacked it above my desk as a reminder and guilt-inducer to stay on track with my tasks.  And this weekend, last one in March 2024, I discovered that I had a second copy. 

October is the month for rose bush propagation. And helping rose bushes multiply is easy. Look for a cane of goodly diameter, large enough that you will be able to push it or hammer it into the soil without the stem breaking, and yank the stem from the bush with enough violence that you pull a strip of bark from the mother branch.  Flat cut the branch 4-5 inches above the tear (being certain to leave 2-3 stem segments between top and bottom). Poke the branch, rip end down, into the earth. If need be, gently hammer the flat top of the stem to help the sinking. (If the earth is hard, place a gallon plastic jug of water over the spot where you want to sink the stem. Make a small hole in the bottom of the jug and allow the water to seep into the earth and soften it). Push the stem into the earth so that the earth remains compact around the stem (that is, do not dig a whole or poke a hole with a tool).  Walk away. Forget about the bush-to-be until spring.  While you have forgo

This is what my mother told me about a family obligation to take care of the yard during the time when she was growing up. The yard of the house was neat and cared for by sweeping leaves, twigs, or anything else from the yard to some other place. I forgot to ask where the other place was. Anyway, in addition to sweeping, everybody in the family understood that they shared a duty to pluck any growing thing that appeared in the ground. A blade of grass stood no chance. The yard was a point of pride. The swept yard should not be imagined a field of dust. With care, the dirt was compacted by use. The yard usually had a tree and under the shade of tree a family spent time in the yard, the coolest domestic space available during long, hot southern summers. With her usual grace, Sharon Astyk describes the beauty and utility of a living, used packed-earth living space.  Instead of attempting to grow grass or other ground covers in the hot south often on red clay, rural southerners woul