Talya Tate Boerner - grace grits and gardening

Pray for Houston. Pray for Texas.

August 29, 2017 By Talya Tate Boerner

It’s a new morning, but it’s difficult for me to write about the plants in my garden or the beautiful weather we are having in Northwest Arkansas when the pictures and stories coming out of Houston are so devastating and heartbreaking. The aftermath of Hurricane Harvey continues to wreak havoc. Pray for Houston. Pray for Texas.

I lived in Texas longer than I’ve lived anywhere. I went to college in Waco. Texas is my other home, so yes, I have a soft spot for the place and people. I suppose that’s normal.

As rain continues to fall and water continues to rise, the situation becomes even more dire. For those of us watching from our dry, safe homes, we can help by donating money to legitimate groups like the Salvation Army. Always be mindful of scammers always trying to part a good-hearted soul from his money during unfortunate situations. NPR curated this comprehensive list of charities helping hurricane victims. (Still, check them out first.)

Do what you can even if that only means sending good vibes to our Texas neighbors. Because it’s a new morning. Because we are all neighbors in this world, in this life.

Grace Grits and Gardening
Farm. Food. Garden. Life.

[tweetthis]Pray for Houston. Pray for Texas. #HurricaneHarvey[/tweetthis]

Musical Pairing:
Cat Stevens, Morning has Broken

a world gone Lord of the Flies

August 24, 2017 By Talya Tate Boerner

It’s a world gone Lord of the Flies. All I have to do is look outside my kitchen window to see it. In my garden (which has basically been unattended since my accident), the bully plants run amok. There’s been no one to reign them in, cut them back, pull them out by the roots, keep them in their place.

Bullies need stewards. They tend to be very Machiavellian.

The bullies in my backyard.

Mint, oh mint.

Mint is a big ole’ backyard bully. It has silenced my coreopsis, strangled my gaura. It wants to take over all of Northwest Arkansas, I can tell. Yanking a bit out each afternoon only fuels it. Gives it an audience. I fear this is a job for more than one person. When the breeze blows just right, I ignore it. But there comes a point it becomes overpowering, even mixed with white rum and lime juice.Continue Reading

Suffering from Nostalgia.

August 17, 2017 By Talya Tate Boerner

I’ve been suffering from nostalgia as of late.

And I don’t know why. Maybe it’s the end of summer—a summer I barely knew. Maybe it’s because back to school pics make me sentimental about my own kids and those crammed packed days that nearly choked the living daylights out of me, yet drifted by in the puff of a dream. Maybe the pain meds I’m taking make me all mushy, inside and out. Really and truly, I think it started with Glen Campbell. When I heard he died, I felt such loss. Glen Campbell was not only a great talent, but he represented another lifetime, a lifetime that seems as distant as common sense and kindness these days.

Daddy was a fan of Willie and Waylon and Linda Ronstadt. But he also liked Glen Campbell. At least I think he did. Or, maybe he was simply relieved that for a short time during the Tate Summer Road Trip of 1975, my sister and I were stuck on a song not being crooned by Tony Orlando and Dawn. Regardless, he humored us by turning up the volume every time Rhinestone Cowboy came on the radio.

He was from Arkansas, you know. And every station from Memphis to McAllen played his song on repeat.

It was the summer we drove to Old Mexico. Not to be confused with New Mexico.