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January Full Wolf Moon

January 15, 2014 By Talya Tate Boerner

According to the Old Farmer’s Almanac, January’s full wolf moon was named for wolf packs that howled outside Indian villages “during the cold and deep snows of midwinter”.

January Full Wolf Moon

My fascination with the moon began in the fall of 1969 when Mrs. Hilliard wheeled the bulky black and white television between desks in our first grade classroom. Instead of doing alphabet worksheets, we watched Buzz Aldrin and Neil Armstrong walk on the moon from high above our spot in Keiser, Arkansas. At the time I had no idea the news clip was a rebroadcast. (I was probably at the lake on July 20 when the giant leap actually happened…)

A few years later, Mr. Ring assigned a month long moon project in science class. I was just weird enough to love month long projects…especially about space.

Each night I stared at the black sky from my location in the backyard between the pump house and the cotton field. On a piece of plain notebook paper, I charted the moon’s positions and phases. In thirty days it waxed from new to full then disappeared again. I began to realize even though it looked different every night, it never changed. It was the same moon, the only moon, the moon that guided Columbus, the moon that had watched over our Earth forever.

By month’s end, my project was detailed and accurate. A work of art.

I’m pretty sure most of my friends threw their reports together without a glance toward the heavens…

Wherever you are, be sure to glance at our Full Wolf Moon tonight.

Grace Grits and Gardening

Farm. Food. Garden. Life.

“It is a beautiful and delightful sight to behold the body of the Moon.”
― Ptolemy

Musical Pairing:

Mindy Gledhill, Winter Moon

a Christmas memory: buying the tree…

December 12, 2013 By Talya Tate Boerner

Keiser Supply Company, our small town hardware store, received its shipment of Christmas trees in early December. We weren’t allowed to buy one until Momma could borrow Daddy’s truck to bring it home. And since Daddy worked AllTheTime, it was almost Christmas before we finally drove into town for our tree.
Way in the back warehouse where it was chilly, fresh Scotch pines propped against the wall. Momma held tree after tree upright so we could see from every angle.  
 
Momma said until the tree “fell” it was impossible to really know what it would look like. 
 
I didn’t know what she meant. 
 
I thought they were all beautiful. 

My sister and I circled through the Christmas forest inhaling fresh, fragrant evergreen until we became so cold, we agreed on a tree.
Mr. Cunningham tied our perfect specimen to the truck bed so it wouldn’t flip out into a field on the way home.
“Momma, should I ride back there with it?” I stared at the tree, worried it would get smashed by Daddy’s tools.
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’ll freeze to death.”
She wouldn’t let me.
nice little house on the prairie bonnets…
talya
Grace Grits and Gardening
Farm. Food. Garden. Life.
What if Christmas doesn’t come from a store. What if Christmas…perhaps…means a little bit more? – Dr. Seuss (How the Grinch Stole Christmas)

Nana’s little table

December 5, 2013 By Talya Tate Boerner

In October, in honor of Old Farmers Day, I wrote about Nana and Papa Creecy and how they set up housekeeping in 1936 buying the following goods:  (Click HERE to read the original story.)
Nana's little table
Somewhere buried within this original invoice included a side table. Although the little table wasn’t individually listed, it has been part of our family since day one of Nana and Papa’s life together.
Nana's little table

 

Momma remembers when the table originally had a shelf around the bottom. She broke the shelf climbing and playing on it when she was a little girl. I remember playing underneath the table too when it sat in the entryway across from the front door of our house.

Lots of hair brushing took place in front of the mirror that hung above the little table. It’s where Momma wrangled our hair each Sunday morning, pulling and tugging it into a tight ponytail or some style appropriate for church.

Before bedtime we brushed our hair at the table—one hundred strokes to make it silky…

One summer Momma stripped the wood and antiqued it greenish-white (pictured below in this first day of school picture).
cousins
Me, Lesa (cousin), Staci (sister)
Fortunately at some point, she restored the table to its natural wood finish. 

When John and I bought our 100-year-old house in Munger Place, Momma passed the table on to me. She said it fit our house better.

Nana's little table

 

For years, we’ve wondered why the table wasn’t listed on the original invoice. Maybe it was lumped in with ‘living room suite’ of $10.00?talya

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

 

 

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Hi! I'm Talya Tate Boerner. Writer, Reader, Arkansas Master Naturalist / Master Gardener, Author of

THE ACCIDENTAL SALVATION OF GRACIE LEE (2016)

GENE, EVERYWHERE: a life-changing visit from my father-in-law (2020)

BERNICE RUNS AWAY (2022)

THE THIRD ACT OF THEO GRUENE (coming 2025)

Recent Ramblings:

  • Sunday Letter: 11.23.25
  • Maggie and Miss Ladybug: My New Children’s Nature Book
  • Sunday Letter: November 9, 2025
  • Sunday Letter: Oct 26, 2025
  • Sunday Letter: Oct 5, 2025

Novels:

Coloring Books:

Fiction-Themed Coloring Books

Backyard Phenology:

Children’s Nature Book:

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