4 Ways I Need to Wake Up

To prepare for the coming storms.

Spring has been mostly gentle where I live in the south of Georgia. We’re in the season that would’ve been known as blackberry winter, so it’s cool. For days the skies have been cloudy, dropping intermittent rain.

This gentleness is interrupted occasionally by ferocious thunderstorms. A line came through last Thursday. That morning my friend Susan Cerulean, a nature writer who lives in Tallahassee, lost most of the trees in her yard and part of her house to a tornado.

That afternoon I was scheduled to do a reading/talk at the Ford Plantation, an hour from my home. Just as I arrived to the venue my brother called. He and my mother, who had been at a doctor’s appointment in Vidalia, Georgia, were sitting in their vehicle on a roadway. A tornado had blasted through town, damaging houses and tearing down trees and power lines.

I had not realized the severity of the weather threat—now it was a tornado watch. The talk was to be held in a large screened room overlooking the Ogeechee River floodplain. The room had no walls, only screens. The only closed-in spaces were two small bathrooms and a closet. I had a horrible vision of panicked audience members crowding into two small baths.

That’s when I cancelled.

Getting Through the Line

I had to get home. My husband Raven was in Savannah, and no one was at the farm. The animals were alone. I had no idea what the trip would be like.

At first the rain was mild. Then as the front arrived the rain became a blinding wash of water, punctuated by exclamation points of lightning and ellipses of thunder. Trees began to whiplash. Schools had cancelled, and people were trying to pick up their children and get home. Traffic was a mess.

I crept out of the city, through floodwater starting to pool in the streets, past the interstate, and into the countryside. I kept my hopes high that no trees would fall across the road and that I would be able to get home. And I did.

Near home, the pond dam had overflowed and was rushing across our dirt road. I know you’re not supposed to cross moving water, but it was shallow enough to cross.

Everything was fine at home. The tornadoes had missed us. Our electricity went down for 6 hours, but that was fine, a chance not to think about work and to think about slowness and slowing down.

Each storm is a wake-up call, but somehow we don’t wake up.

4 Ways I Need to Wake Up

1. I need to get serious about investing in solar panels and getting them installed. When we lose power at my house we lose water, the landline, wifi, and refrigeration. Cellular service is poor but it usually works.

2. When I lived in Montana, I carried life-saving equipment in my vehicle. That included a blanket, a jug of water, and a shovel (for snow.) For the coming storms I need to think even more clearly about emergency equipment, keeping tools with me.

3. Low-heeled boots and a set of work clothes would be good to have in my car.

4. I need to pay better attention to weather reports. I should’ve never left the house last Thursday, and had I known the threat, I wouldn’t have.

The Coming Storms

The storms, floods, droughts, and fires are going to be bad. Are you setting yourself up for resilience? How? Can you share your ideas with all of us? I certainly would love to do a post on all the ways we are preparing for disasters.

I’m Starting a List

• jugs of water

• large plastic jugs of water frozen in the freezer

• candles & lamp oil

• matches

• a solar recharger for flashlight batteries?

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Please Join My KS Pre-Launch

If you are a writer or a reader or a believer that stories can change the world, then you’ll be interested in this. I have a new book on the craft of writing—something I’ve been working on for at least 10 years—and I’m launching it via Kickstarter.

If you would be interested in backing this project and being part of it getting into the world, I hope you click over to Kickstarter and take a look at my pre-launch page. It’s not live, but there’s a button that allows you to be notified when it does go live in a couple of weeks.

This allows you first access to the book.

It provides quick and early access to limited-number items I am offering along with the book, items such as workshops (live via Zoom.)

While you’re there, you may want to look around and see other interesting projects you may want to back.

Here’s the path.

Farm Report

The skies clear and spring turns gentle again. The pastures have greened up beautifully, and all the grazers are happily grazing. The horses are getting rotated into the barnyard and the pecan orchard.

We’ve caught two rat snakes in the chicken pen so far. We put them in a metal trash can with a lid and relocate them across a river, but snakes definitely swim rivers, and no doubt they just work their way back to our friendly egg source.

Speaking of eggs, I found a large nest this week under a small cedar tree. I left it there.

Mulberries are over and peaches have begun. The goumi berry is still going strong. I’ve been watching a nest of mockingbirds in a coral honeysuckle vine off the back deck, and one day this week they fledged. One of the babies landed in the goumi bush, and she was sitting among the berries rasping when I stepped up to eat a few.

We still haven’t mowed the yard, except paths to the barn, garden, fire pit, and garden shed. I did mow around the front door for delivery people. I know it’s nerve-wracking to wade through seed-heads of weeds and grasses to put a package on a front porch.

Red Earth Farm, Georgia

Natural Calendar

• Ponds and rivers are overflowing.

• The moon is a waxing crescent, sailing in the west at evening.

• We haven’t seen the aurora borealis. Not yet. That the northern lights are being viewed this far south is freaking amazing.

• The first sets of nestlings are fledging.

• The season of white flowers is upon us. Magnolias are in bloom, as well as elderberries and also water lilies. Some ponds have thousands of blooms floating on their surfaces.

• In the sandhills, goat’s rue, prickly pear, and Georgia savory are flowering.

• Dewberries are ripe. Wild grapes are the size of pinheads. Smilax tips for perfect for eating.

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A Running Butterbean for the Ages

Years ago Mr. James Jones of Metter, Georgia gave me seeds for a white running butterbean. It grows as a vine but otherwise looks like a bush lima. It’s a delicious bean that cooks up sweet and firm and so far has been immune to all disease. We grow it up the deer fence that surrounds our garden.

We tend to eat lots of salads, so I found a recipe for a lima bean salad & made it with the white running beans. The recipe is on a downloadable card below.

The butterbeans are first cooked then chilled.

White Running Butterbean & Roasted Corn Salad

A Downloadable Recipe Card

If You’d Like Seeds

UPDATE: Seeds are sold out.

My young-adult daughter would love to make some extra money. She comes to help me once or twice a week, and she would gladly mail you a package of White Running Butterbean seeds. Send $5 to my address below, and include a self-addressed stamped envelope (SASE) if you have one handy.

While you’re at it, you may like to try Seminole Pumpkin if you’re gardening this season. It’s an amazing, sweet-fleshed, long-lasting, disease-free, prolific pumpkin. I have 2024 seeds I will lend to the cause. Send $5 to the address above, and include a SASE if you have one handy. If you want to buy both White Running Butterbean and Seminole Pumpkin seeds, I have permission to offer you the deal of $9 for both. She sends plenty for sharing.

One year we stacked a small mountain of Seminole Pumpkins and Gold-striped Cushaws in my sunroom.

Order Seminole Pumpkin seeds from Skye, directions above.

Last Week

Thank you for reading and responding to last week’s essay about street drugs. This is a topic on many of our minds, as evidenced by 83 comments. The comments are wide-ranging and thought-provoking. Some people say that marijuana is not harmless, others say it is. The Kingsolver book helped some, others couldn’t read it.

Folks also messaged me privately to tell me how they or family members struggle with addiction. One person lost a dear friend 7 months ago. The two of them spoke almost daily “and deeply” for 10 years, and this person never knew their friend was using. This seems to be a common theme, that no one realizes.

This week I visited the drugstore aisle where drug tests can be found. There I saw strips for testing items for fentanyl.

Thank you again. I’ve been much less heartsick because of our conversation and the good resources you pointed out to me.

By the way, I added the resources to the bottom of that newsletter. If you want to glance at them, here’s the post.

A Recommendation

I subscribe to Rex Woodbury’s Substack, “Digital Native,” because I like his down-to-earth take on technology. He creates a lot of graphs to illustrate points he’s making and takes seriously the work of reporting on this digital life we’re living. Sometimes I’d like a little more discernment— as in, is this thing really good for us?—because that’s the question we need to be asking. Is this the direction we want to go? Do we want to talk to computers or to each other? I don’t read every newsletter Rex writes, but I read this week because he attended an unveiling of the new ChatGPT. Humans are now talking to computers. Go take a look if you’re interested.

Books I’m Reading

1.

Mountain Time: Reflections on the Wild World and Our Place In It by Kenneth S. Norris. I wrote about Mr. Norris in a recent exploration for the Journey in Place course. I had not heard of him, although a number of folks commented that they had been in his sphere. I’m scanning this book and reading only sections of it looking for information that will illuminate our year-long question, “How do we be in place?” Word to the wise: please do not title your book (Something) Time. This happens way too often and is a waste of a good title. However, if you write a book called Chocolate Time, I will probably read it.

2.

I’ve been invited by Chris Fink, author and professor, to teach at Beloit College as writer-in-residence for six weeks during 2025. It’s called the Mackey Chair. I’m following in the footsteps of some of my important heroes, including Peter Matthiessen, Scott Russell Sanders, Ursula K. LeGuin, Kevin Young, and William Stafford. I’d say yes just to get my picture in that lineup. Beloit is in Wisconsin, within 2 hours of Chicago, Milwaukee, and Madison. In preparation I’m reading Chris’s books, Farmer’s Almanac and Add This to the List of Things That You Are. Both are fiction. I’ll be available to do other events while I’m living in Beloit, Wisconsin, so if you’re anywhere close, I hope you ask me to come visit. I’m also eager to hear of places I should see while I’m there.

3.

I’m always reading a self-help book, because I’m determined to rid myself of any way I slander myself. This week it’s a book Raven found at the library, The Magic Ladder to Success. It was published in 1930 by Napoleon Hill and reissued in 2018. Apparently he’s the guy who came up with the idea, which is so hot these days, of a Master Mind. One chapter is called “A Pleasing Personality,” and I was thunderstruck to read that one of his traits is Magnetism. In parentheses he writes “high rate of vibration due to well-defined sexual urge.” Tell me more, please. I’m thinking you can read it online here.

Otter Time

This week a friend caught four otters on his handheld camera. He loves to sit in the woods, watching creatures and bathing in nature, and for this we otter be glad. He sent me a suite of photos, and with his permission I’m sharing one with you. Person and location shall remain anonymous.

Love Note to You

You know I’m delighted that you’re here, caring about this big and beautiful life we’re enjoying, trying to save the planet, trying to build up happiness, trying to be the best humans we can. Thank you for your presence. I hope your spring is glorious, and that the storms are bouncing past your homes and gardens and woodlots. Don’t forget to check out my Kickstarter experiment. And order seeds if you need some. Here’s a big imaginary hug and a trove of well-wishes. Until next week I am

Your friend,

Janisse