The Bull Nettle

 These pretty white flowers belong to a very vicious plant that dot the fields of many North Central and East Texas farms. Writing August on the Farm last week caused me to remembered numerous stinging, itching encounters with them.

The flowers mature into a small walnut-sized pod that turns brown in late summer  and opens to expose three hard-shelled beans. My Mother told me that they were safe to eat if I removed the tiny white tip on each bean. So I decided to check the internet to see if she was right.

What I found was a great blog—Rick Hammer's  Flora of the Texas Rolling Plains of the Texas Rolling Plains. It was there I found some interesting facts about bull nettles,  and also comments from other readers, telling of their very painful contacts with this plant.

To understand why their experiences were so panfuls take a close look at the photo, left, and read what Rick Hammer has to say about The Texas Bull Nettle or Cnidoscolus texanus.


"Notice both the main stem and the stem branches.  All are covered with hispid or bristly hairs. But these are not normal hairs; they are extremely painful, stinging hairs. The leaves are covered with the same stinging hairs as well.  Here is how this plant defense mechanism works: If the foliage or stems are touched, the glass-like hairs break off in the skin (yours or a hapless four-legged fellow creature) and act like hypodermic needles. The “needles” release a toxin which causes an intense burning sensation. This effect is a type of allergic response known as contact urticaria and the reaction can last for several days."

Victims wrote of suffering painful itching rashes lasting up to three months. One said his hand was so painful, he wanted to cut it off. One person wrote "....have severe swelling, bruising, and HUGE dark red to black blisters from my knee to my foot. The pain & itch is so intense I practically keep myself knocked out with Benadryl and have gone through 3 tubes of Cortaid in 2 days."

Another tells being a teenager and going camping on the Guadalupe River. He described their adventure thus: "Some of our more mentally altered group decided it would be a grand idea to run down to the river to skinny dip at midnight – BAD IDEA.  It sounded like a pack of panthers trying to pass kidney stones. One of our party had to go to the hospital for steroid shots."

Shots may be the only way to ease the misery for some. There were other suggestions, (some not very ladylike) but it seems there's no dependable relief.  I see that I was a very lucky girl because after a few hours, my itching went away—if I didn't scratch or rub the place.

One writer said he had a field full of bull nettles. According to several reports, he probably won't be getting rid of them soon. Their roots go deep—sometimes three to six feet and are massive, and they seem imperious to both commercial plant killers and homemade concoctions.

Oh yes—many youngsters, besides myself, enjoyed eating the bull nettle beans, and none mentioned removing the little white kernel on the end.

I am glad I found Rick Hammer's blog, and I expect you will enjoy it also.

Dannie

August on the Farm

Out on the farm in the days when crops were planted, cultivated, and harvested by horse drawn implements and that long-handled tool called a hoe, August was welcomed as time when the crops were ‘laid by’. A horse and plow would only damage the full-grown plants, and the heat was wilting the few weeds that had escaped the hoe.

Life slowed down—but never to the point that was nothing to do. The corn ears were dry and hanging haphazardly on the stalks. It was time to sweep out the old log crib and soak the wagon wheels so the metal rims wouldn’t fall off as the corn was hauled in.

My Dad hooked his team to his wagon and let the team pull the wagon slowly down the rows of corn, while he pulled the ears of corn off the stalks and tossed them into the wagon. Leather gloves were not a luxury—they were a necessity for wrenching off all those ears in their dry shucks. Trip after trip was made back to the barn, where the corn was unloaded into the crib to be saved for winter feed for both livestock and meal for cornbread..

Another job finished, but another waited. Those leafy cornstalks couldn’t be left in the field to waste. They, too, were saved for winter feed. But they didn’t just nicely arrange themselves into nice teepees like those in harvest-time pictures. That took days of hot, stingy work by human hands.

Dad had a large curved knife he used to cut the stalks. Then they were bundled into a manageable size and tied with a length of binder twine. Then the bundles needed to be carried or dragged a short distance to where they were shocked. Not electrically, but in teepee shapes called corn shocks. The dragging was my job. I hated corn-shocking time. I was't real happy with child labor, either.

It’s not surprising that I looked forward to school starting. But wait—there were Saturdays, and the peanut crop to be harvested. I’ll rest a few days, then tell you all about it.

Dannie

Two Friends and a Bottle of Sherry

I have a friend named Bessie Mae, that comes over and drinks coffee with me each morning, and we sit around the table with our coffees and talk about our ailments—I’m ninety and she’s eighty—so we have a lot to talk about.

Anyway, sometimes we talk about other things, like our kids and recipes, and stuff like that.  So one morning we got to talking about a recipe for a sherry cake. Let me tell you, that is one delicious cake, but I’ve never made one myself because I don’t keep sherry in my pantry—at least not real sherry, and that’s what the recipe calls for.

Well, the more we talked about how good it was, the hungrier we got for that cake, so we decided we’d run out to the liquor store out on the highway—well of course I don’t mean we were going to really run out there—we’re not that lively anymore. In fact, we don’t walk too well, but you know, it gets pretty boring just sitting around all the time, even if you do have a new ailment to talk about every day, so we decided we’d just make a little trip to the liquor store—in Bessie Mae’s car, of course. I don’t drive nowadays.

It’s not because I can’t—I just didn’t want to fool with taking a driving test again. My gosh, I took one a few years back—well, I reckon it was about seventy years ago, but anyway, I’ve parked my car for awhile. I may change my mind about taking that test, though. It’s just that I don’t hear too well and might irritate the trooper if I kept on driving after he said stop.

Oh well. Back to our trip to the liquor story. I got my walker, and Bessie Mae got her cane—she’s younger than I, remember, and she’s one lively lady. I think it’s because of her red hair. Anyone with hair that red just has to be lively.  Come to think about it, I don’t remember her hair being red when she was younger

Oh well, back to our trip to the liquor store. It wasn’t far, so we made the trip without any problems. One guy kept honking at us, but we didn’t pay him any attention. We just figured he was trying to get Bessie Mae’s attention on account of her hair. She has that effect on guys, you know.

Well, anyway, here we were at the store, so we parked---well actually we parked several times. Bessie Mae kept ending up kinda catawampus with the lines. But she finally got parked straight enough so nobody would bump in to us—she’s had her left fender repaired three times because of the careless way people park.

We had a little trouble at the door. I can tell you it’s not easy to hold a walker and open one of these heavy doors some stores seem to like nowadays. And then the darn thing kept trying to close before I could get out of the way.

So there we were, and I can tell you that there were so many bottles we didn’t know which way to turn, No one paid us any attention, until my walker knocked a couple of bottles off a shelf. That’s when a clerk came over and offered to help us.

When we told him we needed a bottle of sherry so we could make a sherry cake, he tried to tell us we needed cooking sherry. When we told him the recipe called for real sherry, he just shrugged and pointed to another aisle and said “Take your pick, ladies.” and walked away.

Well, I thought he could’ve been more helpful, but that’s the way it is nowadays. Anyway, we found the sherry without any more help, but we had no idea there were so many kinds. Finally, Bessie Mae picked out a bottle she thought was pretty and said “Let’s get out of here,” so we paid and left. No body asked us to come back, which I thought was a little rude, but it really didn’t matter, because I had no intention of ever visiting that place again.

I think Bessie Mae was a little annoyed, though, but she didn’t let it affect her driving. She obeyed the speed limit and didn’t get distracted by all those people that honked and waved to get her attention. They all seemed to be in a hurry and looked like they were out of sorts about something, so we were glad to get back home and take a little sip of that sherry.

That cake can wait until another day.

Happily,

Dannie
(hm-mm)

No Politics, No Terrorist—Just Pleasant

Sometimes we just need s rest from all the unpleasantness we'e bombarded with, and nothing is better than scenes from nature, whether it's butterflies or flowers, trees or lakes—or both.

For the flower lovers

And the fascinating butterflies

Trees - miniature, colorful, and strange

Easy to look at

 And awesome


Enjoy,
Dannie

The First Fourteen Days

             The first fourteen days of my 91^st year

have been a mixture of good and bad. It began with two wonderful back-to-back parties given by my daughters—so much work for them and so memorable for me.

And that wasn’t all. I had lunch with fifteen of my former Girl Scout girls.  Grandmothers now. Some have retired from careers in teaching and nursing—some have their own businesses. Some are active in volunteer work.

Wonderful girls then—wonderful women now.

I am proud to have been one of their troop leaders, and so grateful to be remembered by them on this landmark birthday. Shall we try for the 100^th?

All this fun was followed by a sore throat that quickly became a cough that got worse and worse. Antibiotics, cough syrup, inhaler—this cough sneered at their poor ineffective efforts. Now, after more than twenty breathing treatments, it’s losing its grip but stubbornly hanging on.

What a bother! I have things to do: a novel to finish, posts to my Aluminist blog to write, a few clothing alterations to make, boxes of junk to sort through....

All of which brings up the subject of stress. Today’s mail brought a timely article about the effects of stress. . The American Institute of Stress says that stress causes 60 percent of all illness and disease. And three-fourths of all doctor’s visits are said to be somehow stress-related.

Seems to me this is something we need to pay attention to.

According to this report, there are three types of stress. Each of these can have an impact on both physical and mental health.

The first type of stress is called routine stress. This comes as a result of stress at work, home or due to other daily issues.

The second type of stress comes as a result of change that happens quickly. This is defined as stress related to job loss, divorce or becoming ill.

The third type of stress is called traumatic stress. Examples of this type of stress include an accident, war, being assaulted or a natural disaster

The National Institute of Mental Health says chronic stress can elevate the chances of getting the flu, a cold or other virus. In addition, stress can make vaccines less effective.

Surprisingly, the health effects of stress may not be present immediately. For example, heart disease may not occur for years. This can make for an unpleasant surprise when it comes to health issues that develop down the road.

There are a number of ways you can deal with and decrease stress.

The first is setting priorities. According to the NIMH, this can be done by deciding what needs to be done now and what can be done later. Make it a point to say no to things that aren’t crucial that will add to your stress level.

Second, give yourself credit where credit is due. Give yourself a thumbs up for what you have accomplished instead of beating yourself up for tasks you didn’t complete. In addition, try not to run problems over and over in your mind.

Third, exercise consistently. According to the NIMH, a half hour of simple daily walking can both lower stress and elevate mood. Make it a point to add enjoyable activities to your life. And look into new options that may help -- like yoga, meditation or tai chi.

So relax; be safe, and enjoy this holiday ...and remember what our Fourth of July celebration is about.

Dannie