Diary of My Country Life-April 10th, 2026

The original source of this blog: https://www.lotusandmichael.com/blogs/diary-of-my-country-life

04/10/2026 Friday 40-72F Sunny

I was in China last April. I visited Jinan, the city of springs, climbed Mount Tai, and spent the rest of the month in my hometown, including two trips to the village where I was born. At that time, my mother and my cousin were busy with their spring plantings—at the site of my second uncle’s collapsed house in the village, my mother planted some pumpkin seedlings; and my cousin planted garlic chives twice—once at my other cousin’s house, once near her own house. They were real farmers. For the first time, I witnessed the whole procedure of how the garlic chives were planted: They dug out the chive clusters planted a year before, cut both the roots and leaves short, then divided them into small groups of every two or three individuals. The soil was turned up by lines, where my cousin placed every single group and spaced them. At last, she covered the roots and watered them. 

By chance, after coming back to the USA in May, I noticed that small pots of garlic chives were sold in an Asian market. Out of curiosity, I purchased one. Monkey see monkey do, I followed my cousin’s way and planted them. A few months later, my small patch of garlic chives had multiplied. So I dug them and repeated the procedure last Autumn. Covered under thick fallen leaves, I wasn’t sure whether these chives could survive the hard long winter. In Mid-March when I prepared my vegetable bed and uncovered the fallen leaves, I found my chives were sleeping happily, though their leaves were soft and yellow because they hadn’t seen the sun for months. I exposed them to the sun. Two weeks later, the leaves turned green and stronger. Therefore, I divided them again into sixty-six groups and replanted them.

Now I have a decent patch of garlic chives. Watching them growing, I feel like I am in my hometown again with my folks. 

My mother once told me that everything produced in the fields somehow was useful to farmers, such as grasses, such as sticks. I didn’t understand it until recently. Two years ago, I used some fallen branches in the park across the street to build a drying rack; since then, my branch journey began. Almost every time during my walk to the park or in the neighborhood, I could find nice fallen branches and dragged them home (my neighbors who don’t know my name can perfectly describe me as “the Chinese woman always with sticks”). So, the rack project in my back yard kept upgrading: From one tier to two tiers; from one rack to two racks; from oak branches to maple branches… After a whole Autumn and Winter’s collecting, I had selected more than enough branches to build another several racks which were not needed at all. What should I do with these branches? They were too nice to be treated as firewood. So, one day I came up with the idea that perhaps I could saw them into logs and build new fences for my flower beds. The trellis fences I had for more than two years were deteriorating and somehow blocked the view of the flowers. Since they couldn’t fence out deer anyway, a more robust, better looking one would be more favorable. 

I can’t let my ideas go until I have tried them. I took action right away and timed it: I purchased a Japanese folding saw from Amazon (the old one was broken at the beginning of my new fence project). It took me about two hours to saw one hundred and ten logs; then about two hours to remove the old fences and hammer the logs into the soil; then another one and half hours to connect all the logs with branches as top bars and tie them. So in just one day, I had a beautiful, unique, artisanal fence which was built with maple, oak, cherry, elm, holly wood, and even the branches pruned from my mume plant; and most importantly, it was 100% customized by my hand and to my taste.

I was highly delighted by my new fence. Therefore, this project expanded. I selected more branches from the park and used the same formula to fence my vegetable bed, my driveway flowerbed, and all the other areas where a fence or a border would increase the appeal.

Up to yesterday afternoon, my fence project finally drew a period. I think both my front and back yards do look more complete and open. And, I used up the branches I saved. My mother was right: everything produced in the fields or by Mother Nature was useful. The dead vines, the pruned branches, the fallen leaves, all can be valuable and help us to achieve a goal of being self-supplying or self-sufficient. With a little effort and some imagination, waste can be turned into something artistic.

While I am browsing the view, a tabby cat from the neighborhood sneaks into my back yard. We both are surprised to see each other. So immediately it ducks under the fence to the neighbor’s yard. Less than one minute later, an orange cat appears in my back flower bed. It doesn’t see me but hesitates under my little maple tree, then returns to where it appeared from. Right after the orange cat left, a white one, the one I see most often, swaggers into my lawn then along the little path. It’s like a cat show—what I like about them is that they are quiet, silently come and silently go; and they are clean, cover their shit with soil in my flower beds so no mess is left; and they conduct themselves well by jumping onto my patios, then crossing the lawn using my brick path as if they knew that the path is for walking and, by doing so, they equalize themselves to human beings.

Smart cats!