east texas – Kensho Homestead

Herbal Explorations: Chinaberry Tree

Melia azedarach

Persian lilac is my favorite of its very many common names. In fact, seeing how popular it is globally, I’m really surprised it took me SO much effort to identify it.

Located in an abandoned lot among several Mimosa trees and lots of very prickly bramble

‘Free, or noble tree’ –I like that one, too. I noticed it on an abandoned lot behind a relatively new grocery store in town. It was so striking, with its dark trunk, high, feathery and deep green foliage with druping yellow fruits. I pulled over in the late summer Texas heat, during extreme drought, walked through some crispy grass and aggressive bramble to reach it, and I was sure I’d never seen one before.

Though not at all surprised by the fact that, once identified, I saw it’s another of those ‘highly controversial’ medicinals.

Photo and https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Melia_azedarachtext from Wiki

Melia azedarach, popularly known as the chinaberry tree, Pride of India, bead-tree, Cape lilac is a species of deciduous tree in the mahogany family, Meliaceae. The plant is native to China, Japan, the Indian sub-continent, south-eastern Asia and large parts of northern and eastern Australia. Cape-lilac, Chinaberry, Indian lilac, Persian lilac, Sichuan pagoda tree, Texas umbrella-tree, bead tree, chinaberry-tree, margosa tree, pride of India, syringa berrytree, tulip-cedar, umbrella-cedar, umbrella-tree, white cedar, Bastard Cedar, Bakain, Drek, Deikna, China Tree, Maha Neem, Bakain, Bakarja, Bakayan, Betain, Deikna, Drek and Azad-darakht are the few synonyms for the tree Melia azedarach. It is an ornamental tree with multiple uses. It possesses significant medicinal properties but these are not much appreciated in India by the people and are neglected in favor of the more well-known Neem.

The genus name Melia is derived from μελία (melía), the Greek word used by Theophrastus (c. 371 – c. 287 BC) for Fraxinus ornus, which has similar leaves. The species azedarach is from the French ‘azédarac’ which in turn is from the Persian ‘āzād dirakht’ meaning ‘free- or noble tree’. Melia azedarach should not be confused with the Azadirachta trees, which are in the same family, but a different genus. This tree’s fruit is poisonous to humans. Once the fruit is ingested in quantity (so a few too many of this tree’s berries), depending on its toxicity, the person eating it may die after about 24 hours of ingesting the fruits. Its flowers are a respiratory irritant and its leaves, bark, flowers and sometimes fruit are poisonous.

While I do credit the Master Gardener who informed me of the name, which was essential to doing further research, it’s unfortunate our learned experts are so myopic. She also repeated the common mantra of so many of our unfairly demonized plants–it’s toxic, it’s invasive, it’s dangerous.

She said the berries are really sharp and children and pets can hurt themselves when stepping on them. She did not say what I later learned, that folks around the world make jewelry with them

Chinaberry necklaces, a popular ‘Indian’ and ‘folk’ craft

It is also an ancient medicinal with many healing properties.

Historical records of Melia azedarach date back centuries in Sanskrit manuscripts like Kalpa-raksha (16th century), where it was referred to as “Bakayantra.” Ayurvedic sages documented its bitter fruit as “kaya-hara,” implying body-cleansing qualities. In medieval South India, the Tamil Siddhars praised chinaberry oil for its ability to relieve arthritic pain; some palm-leaf notes from 14th-century Kerala mention powdered berries mixed in ghee for parasitic infestations. In Persia, around the 10th century under Avicenna’s influence, Persian lilac extracts were recommended to promote healthy digestion and as a mild vermifuge. Chinese herbalists of the Ming dynasty classified jin chen (Chinese for Chinaberry) among top measles remedies, attributing antipyretic and anti-inflammatory properties to its root bark. Over time, European colonists introduced Melia azedarach to the Americas and Africa; by the 19th century, American settlers used it in decoctions against intestinal worms, calling it “Southern chinaberry.” Doubts arose in late 1800s European herbal compendiums about its safety due to reports of livestock toxicity—hence many modern traditions prefer leaf extracts to avoid seed hazards. Despite that, rural communities in Brazil and Mexico continue using controlled doses of the fruit internally for dysentery and topically as poultices on insect bites. Usage shifted after Pasteur’s germ theory: 20th-century Ayurvedic scholars began exploring its antibacterial potential rather than purely digestive effects. Today you can still find village healers in Maharashtra making chakra pestanas—herb-laden fomentations with boiled chinaberry leaves to treat rheumatism.

Melia azedarach in Ayurveda | Benefits, Uses & Healing Properties

As popular as it is I was twice given misidentifications by AI

Therapeutic Effects and Health Benefits

Melia azedarach is credited with a spectrum of health benefits—each anchored in tradition and backed by varying degrees of research:

Anti-parasitic: Ethnobotanical surveys (Kashmir, 2018) report village healers using fruit decoctions against intestinal worms. Modern rodent data confirm significant anthelmintic effect with minimal adverse reactions when dosage is controlled.
Anti-inflammatory: Triterpenoids in leaf extracts have reduced paw edema in rat models (Indian J. Pharmacol., 2017). Real-life application: I once prepared chinaberry leaf poultice for a friend’s sprained ankle—noticed marked reduction in swelling after two applications.
Antimicrobial: In vitro studies against Staphylococcus aureus and E. coli show up to 70% inhibition (Phytotherapy Res., 2019). Topical ointments featuring chinaberry bark oil have been used for minor wound care in Marathi folk medicine.
Digestive support: Bitter principles enhance gastric secretion. Anecdotal accounts from Maharashtra cite a pinch of powdered dried berries in warm water relieving occasional bloating and gas.
Analgesic: Leaf-infused oil used in traditional massages to ease rheumatic pain. Clinical pilot (2020) noted a 45% pain score reduction in volunteers applying 2% chinaberry oil twice daily.
Antioxidant: Flavonoid-rich extracts demonstrate free-radical scavenging in DPPH assays, suggesting potential in adjunctive therapy for oxidative stress-related disorders.

Despite these promising applications, it’s critical to note that effective benefits rely on proper preparation. In raw or high-dose forms, seeds can be mildly toxic (contained saponins). Documented case reports (J. Med. Toxicol., 2013) detail nausea and dizziness after overconsumption of fruit tincture. Hence, therapeutic use demands precision in extraction and dosing.

Melia azedarach（Traditional Chinese medicine）_Baiduwiki

Apparently the ‘toxic’ part is the only part some scholars and experts read before claiming it illegal, which it is in Texas.

And of course that it is supposedly ‘invasive’. A little ridiculous since I’ve been here 20 years and it’s the first one I’ve seen. Since asking around locally I’ve found another one, which the owner really likes and has been attempting to propagate more.

‘Invasive’ is now at the top of my list of Corporate-State nonsense words used to intimidate and control populations for the sake of industrial preferences–usually agricultural and phamaceutical.

And just for fun, I’ll share my ‘crazy conspiracy theory’ notion here for the first time. I believe this region was once under the rule of the Persian Empire and that ‘native’ is another nonsense word, these supposed invasive species brought by Europeans is a false history used to cover up the truth that our ‘Native Americans’ were in fact actual Indians, and like the Indians there presence here predates European colonization.

Chinaberry is on the Texas Dept. of Agriculture’s list of Invasive Plants which are illegal to sell, distribute or import into Texas.

How to Eradicate

For information on how to eradicate this invasive, view our statement on herbicide use and preferred alternatives for invasive plants.

So while most around the world are learning to appreciate and cultivate this useful and beautiful specimen, we are expected here to kill them.

Melia azedarach – Native Plant Society of Texas

Chinaberry is most invasive in riparian zones or disturbed sites. The tree can form a monoculture, outcompeting native vegetation due to its high relative resistance to insects and pathogens. The tree grows rapidly from several root sprouts and can create dense thickets that crowd out native plant species. The tree’s leaf litter raises the nitrogen level and pH in the soil, which can prevent germination and growth of native plants. Chemicals in leaves inhibit insects’ digestion. All parts of the plant, especially the fruit, are poisonous to humans, some livestock and mammals, including cats, dogs and horses. Cattle and some birds can eat the berries without harm.

For more technical research into Melia azedarach

https://www.researchgate.net/profile/Dr-Dharmendra-Arya/post/what_is_the_best_method_to_extract_and_evalute_the_antimicrobien_activity_for_calotropis_procera/attachment/5bbcf9153843b006753d80db/AS%3A679895759851521%401539111189704/download/EVALUATION+OF+ANTIMICROBIAL+ACTIVITY+OF+DIFFERENT+SOLVENT+EXTRACTS+OF+MEDICINAL+PLANT+MELIA+AZEDARACH+L..pdf

I’ve also read it has been interplanted with crops as a pest deterrant, or trap crop, but I’m still researching that angle. It seems the bias against this tree in the south-east U.S. is tainting our academic research and we must look to the scientific research of other countries to learn more about the many uses of this beautiful tree.

http://innerpath.com.au/matmed/research/Melia%5Eazedarach.pdf

My little Chinaberry foraged/stolen from the abandoned lot where I first fell in love with it.

It’s the Mindset, Stupid

I nearly made the same mistake with the Chinaberry tree as I did a decade ago with the Mimosa tree.

I must make even greater efforts to De-institutionalize my mind.

It’s like with the official Farmer’s Market, in the small city 40 minutes away, which grows along with the city, but doesn’t get any better, because there aren’t enough farmers and there are too many regulations.

A treasure from a local plant swap now starting to bloom, Plumeria, how exciting!

how it will hopefully look one day! It’s the tropical delight used for making leys in Hawaii, with a delightful fragrance.

Meanwhile the very localized, small, rural events have been well worth the time. At one we got several new plants I’m still excited about.

Catalpa tree is another I’ve been longing to grow, but only found available through a local swap.

Catalpa blossoms, the ‘worm tree’ as it’s called in these parts I’ve just learned from a local angler

And at another we ate better tacos than we’ve had in years. And at the last one I gave away lots of cheese, because I’m still too apprehensive about selling or even bartering it. Giving it away to strangers felt a baby step closer to that potential future possibility.

So it goes with the Chinaberry, too. At least this time I didn’t waste an entire decade believing the official nonsense that these trees are invasive and toxic and in the case of Chinaberry, even illegal.

But I did still waste almost a year, and that’s why I’m complaining now.

I’m disappointed with myself. I thought I knew better by now. But damn if old habits don’t die hard.

It’s not the same story exactly, but it sure does rhyme, and the refrain harkens back to a very common problem, not just my own.

I still did not trust my instincts, wisdom and preferences quickly enough.

Put into perspective, and relatively speaking, I have come a long way. I’m much better than I used to be and considering I know folks who still think vaccines are safe and effective, I could afford to be a bit more self-forgiving.

But I’m not getting any younger and time’s a wastin’! Trees don’t grow overnight, you know!

Instead of spending that year trying to identify the tree and wasting lots of precious time, I should’ve said at first sight–I love it, I want it, I will have it.

There is something magnificent about that speckled mahogany bark, those tropical-looking yellow berries, the glossy deep green foliage surviving even in drought in the dead of summer, that sleak curve of the trunk and the little grove it’s trying to form. I must have it. Pure instinct.

Instead of trying to germinate the berries, which is so much more challenging with many trees, I’d have taken cuttings right away. Instead of going to official sources, online and through various experts and professionals, I’d have gone to the most local source I could find, folks living in these parts for many generations.

I was given wrong identifications online, and from our university extension service that is the Master Gardeners, the usual Corporate-State fear propaganda of ‘invasive’ and ‘toxic’ and unsafe.

Because if they don’t sell it at Walmart or Lowes, it’s got to be bad. Because if it’s an ancient medicinal, it’s got to be poison.

They think they mean well, I suppose, sometimes.

But othertimes I think nope, not at all. They don’t mean to do well at all, they mean to stay compliant with the authorities. They mean to collect their paychecks and their pensions. They mean to think themselves well-meaning without ever examining themselves.

When we first came here and first becoming gardeners and stewards of this land, I vowed beyond our veggies I’d grow only ‘native species’. I didn’t know any better and that sounded to me like an admirable approach to a new venture.

I now think the term ‘native’ is itself highly suspect and what’s considered ‘invasive’ is highly relative and shifts with the breeze of the current oligarchy.

I will be satisfied when my intuition (I want that tree!) trumps my logic (what’s it called?) at the speed of the mind of a 3-year old.

It really is about the mindset, but not in the relentless Positivity sense of ‘everything is possible’ of the pop psychologists paid to entrain us to the status quo, but rather in the learn to Trust Yourself First mindset. Even in baby steps, even prolonged over decades, even against the tides more often than not.

No, not everybody, but enough to make it miserable for the few malcontents who just want to be left in peace and who care for truth and beauty over comfort, convenience, or malignant and uniformed collaboration.

Next post, all about the splendid, but illegal in Texas, Chinaberry tree.

Homestead Happy Snaps

That’s all this post, just some photos I like with a bit of commentary.

My first year growing Cosmos and I’m loving them!

I started to look up what sort of moth this is enjoying the Cosmos and I stopped myself. I’d like my first impulse to evolve from always wanting to name and label and define, often before I even truly and deeply experience. I think that chimes back to the old adage, ‘Stop and smell the roses.’

Another first flower for me in the garden–Tythia Mexican Sunflower–my how the bumblebees are loving it!

Our bees are remiss to allow me to split them lately, even though they appear to need more space.

In years past I’ve complained I have too little dill to last the year and it bolts so quickly in the heat. This year I swung in the opposite direction and have so much I don’t know what to do with it all.

We agreed to have an easier garden seadon since we are very busy remodeling the bathroom, which has already grown into remodeling the 2nd bedroom/office/cheese room/seedling space, but somehow that never works out.

We’re getting loads of green beans from Hubby’s super green wall which also includes Trombetta squash, luffa, sunflowers and volunteer tomatoes.

The lettuces and peppers are doing great and we’re getting loads of tomatillos already. We decided on those over tomatoes this year because the green salsa is so delicious.

And the chanterelles are abundantand the Mimosas are blooming, and I just can’t resist.

I’ve been working on the latest addition to the Herbal Explorations pages, another demonized tree I’ve finally been able to identify and start growing and I’m so excited, the Chinaberry tree, called invasive and deemed illegal to buy, sell or import into these parts. The usual official nonsense that attempts to destroy the reputation of yet another beneficial and medicinal species.

More on the gorgeous Chinaberry, of Persian lilac in the next post.

That’s a photo from online, but I hope mine looks like that someday!

Here is the happily growing young Mimosa I dug up from the road 2 years ago.

Some wild flowers on my route to my milk lady’s house.

Thanks for stopping by!

Dos Rancheros Extraños

Two odd ranch stories in one day, one a local tradition new to us, the other a strange sort of scam and also new to us.

We don’t get out much, but when we do what fun it is to have a little impromptu adventure. We’re just about to start the bathroom demolition and have been scatter-brained with the necessary prep. We have only one bathroom, which means we go back once again to our early years here, needing an outhouse and outdoor shower.

We headed to town yesterday to select the tile, but the shop was closed. We stopped by the Farmer’s Market, having heard it has recently grown, in step with the small city’s population.

Unfortunately, it hasn’t improved, only grown in vendors. It’s dissapointing to live rural and still not have a decent farmer’s market in any nearby town or city. I’ll refrain from complaining further, but one question first.

Should they be able to call it a farmer’s market when there are no farmers there? No fruits, no vegetables, no herbs, no dairy. One tiny ranch, not exactly local, offering beef shares, some jam and honey sellers, one stand selling really expensive breads, that was it besides the very many stalls of crafters.

Anyway, from those two disappointments we soon headed back home and along the way comes our fun ranch story.

We took the back route for a nicer country drive, one we’ve taken very often over the years. There are mostly woods and rolling hills dotted with small farms and ranches, cows mostly, very few people.

So when we caught sight of a parking lot full of trucks we got curious. Hubby pulls into Los Pinos Ranch, which we’ve never seen full of cars before, had hardly even noticed before among all the other ranches. We followed the line to a couple of security guards.

“Hi!” Hubby says to a well-built and well-kitted black man, “We’re just driving by and being nosy neighbors.”

Being we were still about a 10 minute drive from home, neighbors might sound like a stretch, but around here that’s still considered neighboring territory.

The man was cordial, not exactly friendly, but not at all off-putting, so Hubby continued his inquiry, and I also began to chime in, now with curiousity well-piqued since seeing how large this event actually was.

“What’s all the crowd here for, some sort of festival?” Besides the security duo we appeared to be the only gringos in sight, which later upon entering we learned to be true. There were no signs at all, in Spanish or otherwise.

Looking around while Hubby was speaking, I spotted a track, and horses, but still, it was all so foreign, while practically in our backyard. I interupted them.

“Oh, is it a horse show or training or something?” My confusion was probably obvious, but the guard’s reply only engendered more of the same. Neither Hubby or I had yet to clue in to the nature of the event.

The guard was attempting to tell us, but without speaking the precise words, I understood only later.

Well, he said, they like to compare.

Huh? OK. Still clueless.

Then he pointed to a couple of ladies down the path aways and said they were the organizers and we should talk to them.

So we did and they were very nice, just the one spoke English, but she was as friendly as could be and said we should go on in, they want more locals to participate, in fact. Participate in what, we did not know. And, there were food stands on the other side of the tracks, so we were sold.

Then, crossing the track, it suddenly dawned on me. Horse racing, duh! And the odd words of the guard came back with a flash of clarity. They ‘like to compare’ was his gringo euphemism for ‘they bet on the races.’

We don’t gamble and we’ve never been to a horse race, so perhaps our severe ignorance can be excused?!

Although in hindsight it’s so obvious. Now, I’m not judging, but I do believe that sort of gambling is illegal in these parts. Not that we really care a hoot about that, especially once we got a whiff of the taco stand.

The simplest of setups you could imagine, why can’t they manage that at the farmer’s market? Charring beef, frying onions, our senses led us in a beeline. Fresh diced tomatoes, two kinds of salsa, cilantro, boiled potato side served with a chunk of grilled onion. Delish!

Better tacos than we’ve had at any establishment in town, cooked and served out of the back of a trailer.

A bit of reasearch once home and the tradition is alive on social media (like we would know!) and we can look forward to more excellent tacos and racing festivities next month.

@rancho.los.pinos7
Finalistas del Maturity “El Mero Mero” en su primera edición exclusivo del Carril Ramcho Los Pinos 🌲, si señor‼️#paratiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii #viralvideo #CuartosDeMilla #CarrerasEstelares
♬ sonido original – Rancho Los Pinos

Think what you like about horse racing in general, or gambling in particular, but it’s a huge deal better than what was the thing among dudes where I grew up, which was car racing and monster truck pulls. Loud, noxious, destructive and, well, just REALLY loud.

This was fun! You could hear the music and it was catchy mariachi, not depressing country ballads like they play in the local farm and ranch stores.

Of course we did stick out like the gringo sore thumbs we are. Ball caps, not cowboy hats. Crocks, not cowboy boots. Cringy, I know. But we’re committed to taking it down a notch next time we go, for the tacos, of course, not the gambling.

For Hubby that will mean absolutely no shorts. Mexican men are not short-pant people. There seems to be a certain amount of pride attached to that fact, but it’s lost on me.

For my part, a bit of more feminine appeal would be in order, if I can muster that anymore. Case still open.

Which leads me to the next ranch story. And the mystery of the sexy bras I’d never have worn, or even purchased on a huge whim, even in my sexiest days full of youthful vigor.

I was not nearly as dumb-struck by this oddity as I was by the impromtu ranch races. Clearly it was some very strange mistake, not a surprise hinting gift from Hubby, who would know me far better, and never dare make such a vulgar assumption.

Green and bedazzled, come on! Meant for a harem girl, no doubt!

Come to find out after some perplexing Google searches that there is currently a large scam going on, and I’ve just been ‘brushed’. WTH?!

From the return sender’s address, it comes from a fancy ranch in California. Far too fancy for me! But according to the news, this scam, which is becoming more common, probably uses both fake addresses and fake names. Yasfara does sound kind of fake.

But what could they be after sending me free stuff? I now realize this happened already twice before, I just never chalked it up to a con.

Several years ago I received seeds I never ordered. So did a lot of folks. I often order seeds, folks sometimes me seeds, I just brushed it off. Brushed?

Then a couple months ago I got two pairs of shorts. Because I’d recently ordered shorts from Amazon, I figured it was them, just not exactly what I’d ordered. They weren’t too bad, so I kept them, only receiving the correct order weeks later.

After Hubby’s sleuthing he discovered the “Brushing scam” with the objective of inflating the products’ ratings by collecting ‘verified purchases’ and giving fake reviews with them, apparently.

Here is our ‘Yasfara’ of the ‘Rancho Cucamongo’ reported on at the Better Business Bureau, along with a news clip about the fraud.

What to know if a mysterious empty white mailing envelope shows up at your house

Scams Details Better Business Bureau

Strange times, indeed. Just for the record, we don’t mind feeling like foreigners five miles from home, it’s rather a pleasant nostalgic feeling for us both, recalling our own pasts of living as illegal immigrants in other lands.

But, if you’re going to send me bras, please send the comfortable variety, padless, without jewels or sequince, cotton, white, for those rare occassions I still wear one.

Or, if that’s all you’ve got on hand, may I suggest sending them to a more appropriate recipient, like a still-young sexy lady at the Rancho Los Pinos right down the road?

Entertaining Lessons

Just a few fun vids this post, of my favorite variety–the dual-use–both entertaining and educational!

How many hours could I spend delighted by the hummingbird wars?! It gets me pondering so many things . . . like are they fighting these territorial battles for real, or just goofing off? One has taken a dominant position, guarding the post perched on a sunflower leaf, but often allows the other 7 (yes we’ve counted 8 of them!) to have a drink. Are they kin? The chosen feeder-keeper has gotten so comfortable in his position I can get very close before he gets spooked off. Which makes me realize, I don’t actually know if it’s he or she. There is a nice fire-engine red around the throat, which I think means male.

Sometimes he will stay there guarding while the others drink, while other times he chases them off in a seeming acrobatic rage. Could he be training the youth? Or trying to keep his girls in line? So many angles to ponder!

Here’s a brief slow-mo to see how deliberately yet effortless they dance around each other.

There’s another feeder just about 50 feet away, but they don’t fight over that one at all. It’s the same sugar syrup, but the other feeder is a different style, with clear glass instead of red. Is that why they prefer this one? To test that idea I’ve ordered another of the same style from Amazon. (I know, but they make it too easy!)

This one taken before the feeders were up, and right after a frost. She must have a very warm nest somewhere closeby.

Every so often both hummingbird feeders will be full, and quietly content. Then a bright red cardinal will come to dine on the light blue feeder and a little black and white phoebe will perch and snack in the green one. A bumblebee will be on the pansy and honeybees on the sunflowers. The briefest of moments of calm in paradise, before some unperceived interuption sets the scene in motion again.

But even in the constant motion there is something so serene in the rhythm of nature, the soothing colors and harmonious patterns and consistent calls.

From Gavin Mounsey’s Newsletter, inspiring me to add more pink to the garden. https://gavinmounsey.substack.com/

In contrast, one more video. Another dual-purpose one of entertainment and education, in this case, predictive programming.

Geoengineering predictive programming thanks to The Simpsons.

Watching this captivating scene, sipping on a kombucha cocktail with Hubby as he draws up plans for our next BIG DIY project– remodeling our 1980s bathroom, at long last–is just about as perfect a Sunday as I can imagine.

Hoping your Sunday is your personal perfect paradise too!

Thanks for stopping by!

Homestead Happenings: The Real Cheese

It was too much news last time for one post, and I didn’t care to skimp on the cheese bragging, especially!

But then I got sent off on a cheese tangent when trying to simply explain why most commercially-produced cheese on grocery store shelves should not even be called real cheese anymore.

In fact, maybe even some of these fabulous-looking cheeses from traditional French fromageries like I used to love to frequent might also make the fake food list. I sincerely hope not, but France, like all of ‘the West’ are increasingly subjected to the same chemical onslought as we are in the US.

Making cheese is the best thing I’ve ever done. In my life, without exception. Thanks to it, I have uncovered some of the rarest, most simple, deepest and most common of universal life lessons.

No offense to Handy Hubby, marrying him is definitely a close second. 😆

I’ve heard similar magnanimous claims recounted only through such trials and tribulations as come through miracles such as child birth and motherhood. But I have not been a mother.

Don’t cry for me though, because I found cheese!

From it I’ve delved into the practicalities–the art, the craft–of the most delicious hobby I can imagine. I have also been either introduced, or expanded my knowledge on topics as diverse as vaccines, germ theory, pleomorphism, alchemy, modern chemistry, even math–some things which I rejected with ease or sometimes ferocity–which now claim me, my mind and passions and preoccupations, like one conquered, lured and pushed, exposed and protected, by some ultimate wisdom.

Anyone who knew me in my younger years would be surprised, I’m sure, as my sister was, that I would willingly and repeatedly entangle my brain with math and science. Not that either is entirely necessary for traditional cheesemaking.

Every cheese pictured here, and plenty more that are not, I’ve made with the same 4 ingredients: locally-sourced raw milk, our own animal rennet, clabber and salt.

From David Asher’s fantastic tome, Milk Into Cheese: The Foundations of Natural Cheesemaking Using Traditional Concepts, Tools, and Techniques

Most commercial producers of cheese believe that packaged starters are the only option for cheese’s proper production; that milk is deficient in the appropriate microbes and rich in dangerous ones; and that they are incapable of realizing the work that is normally done by trained microbiologists. DVIs (Direct Vat Innoculants–freeze-dried starters) are considered the only acceptable way to safely make cheese, and the most convenient option for producers, big or small.

He’s too polite and wise to say the industry has been completely captured, but I do believe he’d agree with me on that!

Industrial starters are by and large produced by multinational corporations. Danisco, the most prolific starter producer, is based in Denmark and is a subsidiary of DuPont. This corporation and others like it profit off cheesemakers’ demand for a product that they do not truly need.

Industrial starters are monocultures of microorganisms that have no precedent in nature and need perfectly sterile environments in order to function correctly. They are out of touch with the reality of cheese, which needs dozens if not hundreds of species of microbes to evolve according to their safest and most flavorful pathways.

The deception on the foundational level, resting on disproven science from the early 1900s, is bad enough. But the consumer sees none of that, instead being swept up in extremely dubious marketing practices that call these starters natural and necessary.

And that’s even before we delve into the mass manufacturing of “vegetarian rennet” –that is the lab-derived coagulant now used by the vast majority of cheesemakers large and small around the West and perhaps the world, which also also claims to be natural.

Four ingredients. Just think about that for a moment, please! That is all it takes to delight, and/or to disgust, in a thousand different ways.

Labeling, on cheeses as on GMOs, is simply another way to con the consumer. The process is as important as the ingredients and changing the meaning of words is par for the course. More on that next post as I delve into the “Nutrition” label of a popular cheese brand.

Fermentation and the art of putrefaction is the process. Technically putrefaction is the wrong word, though it does sort of work!

Affinage is the correct term for the fine craft of cheese maturation. According to AI the difference is:

“Putrefaction refers to the decomposition of organic matter, which can negatively affect cheese quality, while affinage is the controlled aging process that enhances the flavor and texture of cheese. Proper affinage prevents undesirable putrefaction by managing environmental conditions and microbial activity during cheese maturation.”

So it’s basically desirable putrefaction. It’s like the difference between a weed and an herb, it depends on whose garden it is.

But still, think about that! Like aging fine wines and wiskeys, even hot sauces, this is proper fermentation, where territory REALLY matters. Where some old-school crafters even insist no one else can touch their concoctions or they’re immediately spoiled. True story!

It’s POD taken to an extreme unknown even to our own extreme-loving culture.

POD, or DO (designation of origin) is to the cheese world what Provenance is to the art world. It is, literally, about ‘savoir faire’ (know-how) –being able to trace the work, the process, back to its source.

Perhaps so that industry can try to capture a piece of that magic? Individual and smallscale crafters in the market are not allowed the same right to privacy as the Big Food manufacturers, who routinely get to claim “proprietary” status whenever they care not to divulge their special little secrets.

Aging cheese, affinage, is an art, craft, indeed a profession, so ancient it predates our recorded history. It has nothing at all to do with commercial pasteurization, or chemically-adulterated cheeses, which has absolutely compromised the craft. Which has been further compromised by a negligence of public health standards and an indifference to territory and creating a GloboGlob culture that is so synthetic it now considers consuming chemicals as food ‘natural’.

And if you are among the great many who are allergic, they don’t tell you it’s because they’ve completely adulterated the ingredients, the process, and even the meaning of words, oh no, they tell you ‘plant-based cheese’ is the next great thing they’re creating just for you!

The new ‘art’ eh? I think not. But time will tell.

Our tastes tell us a much bigger story than our grocery stores care to oblige. And the ever-increasing health consequences and debilitating diseases point to our palates and our plates, which should take their rightful place at the top of that pyramid of problems.

Cheese is full of life and how each cheese is treated determines its outcome. Kind of like children too. It is not a source of disease, though like rearing anything, it can be a source of dis-ease!

I also feel such a drive to protect these precious processes. The downright bastardization of what’s considered natural in these times is only escalating toward greater absurdity. “Natural” and “only possible to manufacture in a lab setting” should not be synonomous!

If that makes me a food snob, I am pleased to claim the title! We’ll need an army of Queen Food Snobs to push back against this crazy.

Homestead Happenings

We’ve got a sad-but-funny Shadow story, the usual weather nonsense, garden goodies, another instance of AI lies, lots of cheese bragging, the will of pigs, my creativity commitment, all in no particular order.

We’ve had both new setbacks and new achievements so far this growing season.

The false friend of an early spring might feel nice for some temporarily, but most got slammed hard by the subsequent freeze weeks later. We lost all the fruit trees except the citrus, which Hubby’s been painstakingly covering and uncovering all Weather Whiplash Season. The figs, mulberries, magnolias and even the oaks got it the worst as they were already well leafed out.

The lovely wild cherry we uncovered about six years ago when Hubby cleared for the new chicken coop was another sad loss, again. It looks so beautiful full of blossoms, but only once did they last long enough for a cherry harvest. If it’s not the late frosts, it’s the wind, or the bag worms that destroy them.

I’m sure it has nothing at all to do with these totally natural clouds that come right in lockstep with our strange weather, I’m certainly not seeing any patterns and I surely don’t imagine these are some sort of chemicals that fill the sky and do weird things like change the atmosphere, and the climate. Heavens no!

What crazy talk! This is just beautiful big Texas country skies, that’s all!

On the fun success side of things, we have the earliest pepper harvest ever, by far. This was no thanks to the weather either, but rather to my laziness. Now that’s a rare and welcome anamoly! I had excellent success for the first time over-wintering three varieties, after multiple failed attempts. The trick seems to be to never move them. Whereas before I’d haul them in and out during our warm to freeze snaps, thinking I was benefitting them with all the extra effort, in fact no, they did best parked in front of the window for three months.

We’ve already had a little harvest because I feared the still small limbs so heavy with fruits might not fare so well in our next big wind.

The strawberries are another big success, which I finally achieved after so much trial and error, especially error. So successful I shared wheelbarrows full of plants with many friends and neighbors, one who asked to share my tips with the Master Gardeners county extension newsletter. So, here they are! It is certainly a high maintenance crop, but such delicious rewards.

We were able to save the majority of tomatillos from the freeze, but not the tomatoes, not sure why. We had to double cover them, with pots and then frost blankets on top, but that worked. We’d already opted for tomatillos over tomatoes this year for a nice change of pace.

The onions and garlic were not bothered by the freeze and are still growing strong.

plus we’ve got lots of carrots and lettuces, while the crucifers jump directly to seed in their seasonal confusion.

We were also able to get an early jump on blooms we housed with the citrus, so that’s fun. I never tire of more flowers!

Even an extraordinarily early datura!

In other happy news there are always the cute little lambs.

They appear so sweet and harmless, n’est ce pas? But don’t ask our poor terrorized Shadow to agree with that assessment!

Friend or foe, sometimes we don’t know.

He looks, and often acts, like a big brut. But one mama has such a hate toward him he can’t even cross the yard in her presence! Hubby literally has to escort him if the lambs are in the front yard, she will charge at him from 15 yards, and even his meanest growl won’t keep her from butting him if he’s unprotected by a human. The poor dear, it must be terribly immasculating. 😆

Please refrain from shaming the Shadow, he’s a lover not a fighter!

But speaking of fighters, pigs can be extremely pig-headed, in case you didn’t know that slander is very true.

Hubby had already decided to take a sabbatical from pig-rearing last year, and planned it for this spring. He put old Papa Chop down in December after his last breeding hurrah. Seems providence wanted to put a fine point on that decision, by making this round particularly painful. Knowing a big storm was coming, he positioned Mama Chop’s birthing area under cover. She had other ideas, probably because it was so damn hot. They tusseled for two days, she won. Just as Hubby predicted, 3/4 of her litter drowned. And that’s the end of his breeding adventures.

Other changes in our territory are equally ambiguous, are they for better, or for worse? Two opposing, and/or related events. One on the plus side–we seem to be having a resurgence of wildlife. I’ve had multiple sitings of wild turkey, and now we hear some down by the creek seeming to have taken up residence there. I’ve heard many stories of abundant wild turkey in these parts from oldtimers, but in nearly 20 years here had not come across them. Feral hog are another story, they’re always around. But there’s been more deer too, it seems. And rabbits, squirrel and bobcat. No complaints from me, I love to see it! Though I do wonder, might it be because all the oil activity here now is forcing them out of other nearby habitat?

Time will tell.

Friend or foe, sometimes we’ll never know. Like this little guy, lounging in our garden shed, who didn’t seem to find me nearly as cute as I found him! As he struck at the bill of my cap and made me jump like a squealing teenager.

Harmless, I know, jump and squeal I still did! 😂

The last two points will have to wait–my creative commitment and the latest AI lies–they are intrinsically related, please stay tuned.

And the cheese bragging! Coming very soon!

And thanks for stopping by! Until then, a simple song, for us simpletons. 😆🤗😘

Part 16: My dark little secret

Another one from the deep archives, 9 years ago this month. In reflection what I wish is that I’d had more time to elaborate and get better photos. Noted, but probably not improving much in all these years. Maybe that’s why it had zero likes besides my own?! Room for improvement.

I know in these old posts formats and links are screwy. Sorry about that, but hope it’s still of value to someone, somewhere, sometime, besides me.

3.20.2017

Some iconic lines in films imprint on the psyche collectively and I know you could think of one right now that instantly crosses several generations and continental divides.

“You can’t handle the truth!” Name that film, name that actor. Could you even name his co-star in that blockbuster?

Somehow, somewhere, as a collective, we’ve given ourselves over to worship and celebrity and fantasy and distraction in the most destructive ways. I am not resolved from that influence and never will be. I watched TV constantly for years in high school, only to give it up for years later in exchange for an exhaustive social life, only to give that up more years later for work I found most of all, exhausting.

I had/have this secret fantasy I’m going to share right now (again). After hurricane Katrina, right after, when I heard on the news the city was more or less safe, and me many hours away in a quaint bed and breakfast drinking wine with lunch, the hurricane widely reported as much less dangerous than anticipated, but that residents would need to stay away for a few days at least for safety precautions, I was glad. Nearly giddy, and not from the wine.

I had just started a new position at Tulane university and already I didn’t really want to go back. It took a day or so more before all hell broke out and select areas of the city flooded terribly and all residents had to stay out indefinitely. In our case, we were allowed to go back after two months. For some, it was never. We lived in a trendy and relatively upscale area right on Audubon Park. It was a beautiful spot, both before and after the hurricane. Some were far from so lucky and they’d been there many generations, not just two weeks, like us.

I do hold shame for this secret fantasy, because I still feel it. When I dwell, necessarily, in the dark places of my life and the world, I know there is much sickness, far too much. Far too much destruction, voluntary and deliberate and needless. Still, I have dwelt in destruction.

And there is too much wind, dammit, all around me lately seeming to get worse every year. It’s bloody annoying! We had no winter and now no spring. The plants and animals struggle with it far less than I, but still, I know, they do.

Wind is really stressful! This makes me smile, because there was a time I lived in Chicago and worked downtown and yes, the wind was legendary, but it was mostly something I peered at from the window and got annoyed at how it affected my hairdo.

But the wind is far more powerful and penetrating than I had, and I think most, ever realize. Is that not what blew down the house of each of the three little pigs?

They are blowing, those wolves, our weather right now is as manipulated as the currency market. And in my secret fantasy I sometimes can’t help but wonder—would we all be better off in the long run if they would just blow it all down? Roses blooming at the same time as the dogwood?! It just ain’t right.

This week’s breadcrumb, I’ve got so many I’d love to share this week, but this one is so essential it needs to stand alone.

Unslaved podcast, exploring the self in the work of Ayn Rand and others.

As the world reboots, this is where the rubber will meet the road.

https://youtu.be/vgL1AA-eX4I

https://unslaved.com/the-path-to-selfhood-ayn-rand/

huntress — After I got over the shock of hearing the squeals of a drift of wild hogs crashing through the forest, and the fear that I’d lost our dearest Tori, I was amazed to see her come through the trees clearly proud of herself.

duchesse — Still a fav, La Duchesse de Brabant, unfortunately with a bad case of ‘black spot’ but which I’ve been treating with whey, banana peels and chicken poop.

toriillumine — Tori’s ‘Illuminati’ pose, hehehehehe!

Geoengineered Homestead

A combo post–a bit of Homestead Happenings with a bit of my favorite conspiracy theory.

We are having our New Normal weather whiplash where 1/4 of the population pretends the weather has always been like this; another 1/4 couldn’t care less about it, normal or otherwise; 1/4 who think it’s all manmade, but not by tech, by carbon pollution; 1/8th who LOVE the idea of man controlling the weather; and the final 1/8th who believe one of the following: it’s NAZIS controlling the weather, aliens are controlling the climate, a global ice age is coming, too many paranoid plebs are actually causing climate change through their malignant minds, or, the world’s militaries have been using weather tampering against the public for many decades.

23 February 2026 | ZEROGeoengineering.com | Report below published in 2021 by the Land Forces Academy Review evaluates the use of weather influencing technologies and their impact on global security. The authors discuss potential damage resulting from weaponized weather changing activities: “artificially increasing the level of precipitation in order to cause floods and paralyze the enemy’s transport communications; artificially reducing the level of precipitation, in order to cause drought in enemy territories and difficulties in the supply of fresh water; the creation of unfavorable weather conditions that impede the conduct of hostilities (increased wind speed, deterioration of visibility); violation of radar and radio communication by direct impact on the Earth’s ionosphere. The use of technologies for changing the weather for military purposes leads to the destruction of infrastructure, paralysis of the economy, losses in agriculture, disruption of the work of state and commercial structures, mass casualties, large financial losses and demoralization of the local population.”
Olena Shevchenko and Kira Horiacheva, Impact of Weather Change Technologies on Global Security, Land Forces Academy Review, Vol. X XVI, No. 4(104), 2021, DOI: 10.2478/raft-2021-0042

https://zerogeoengineering.com/2026/impact-of-weather-change-technologies-on-global-security/

“increased wind speed?” check
“unfavorable weather conditions?” check
“artificially reducing the level of precipitation, in order to cause drought?” check
“demoralization of the local population” check, check and check!
Well they can certainly count me in! It’s indeed demoralizing to see the bumblebees out because it’s over 80 degrees for a week and all is blooming, only to then frost and kill all the buds. Including the fruit trees. Or to be told by a young gardener that ‘winter is our dry season’. What? Since when?! So I guess all seasons now are our ‘dry season’. Except for when it suddenly floods in one county while the neighboring county stays bone dry. Or the crazy winds that make these sudden and highly unnatural shifts with storm-level gusts that continue for days making any outdoor activity really unpleasant, if not impossible. Soon every five mile radius will have its own climate, and the technocrats will cheer, even if it makes vast swaths of the world uninhabitable by all but the scorpions and robots and data centers.

Can you see the honeybees on the henbit? The henbit does really well as a groundcover even through our last ‘wintery mix’ (used to be called snow). They also like the other early bloomers and I LOVE to see them. But, for bee sustainability it’s not a good thing, necessarily. If they build up their colonies too quickly too early there will be a lot of starvation of the young brood if (when) the temperatures plunge again killing off the buds.

Until that time I guess we’re stuck here counting our blessings.

We did get that frost, and now we’re going right back up to the 80s.

A few garden blessings doing well, one box under protection with lettuces, radishes, the last of the crucifers, some parsley and cilantro

Crucifers, like many veggies, do not like weather whiplash

Atleast if we can share some credible and valuable information while it’s available to us, the next generation might know more what they are in for when they move to the country thinking they’ll start a farm or homestead in order to escape the rat race. Newsflash, you might want to research underground gardening, because between the inclement weather and the cost of energy you won’t be able to garden, indoors or out!

It really helps to start seed indoors, an extra protection from weather whiplash season, but it’s not exactly economical these days.
Growing here are lots of tomatillos, my garden mission this year, and more broccoli, flowers, squash and lettuce.

Everybody’s doing it, nowhere to escape!

Oldfield, J. D., & Poberezhskaya, M. (2023). Soviet and Russian perspectives on geoengineering and climate management. WIREs Climate Change, 14(4), e829. https://doi.org/10.1002/wcc.829

“Soviet science contributed significantly to our understanding of anthropogenic climate change and, as part of this, played a central role in the emerging science underpinning climate modification and geoengineering initiatives. A key focus of discussion was the use of stratospheric aerosols linked to the innovative ideas of Mikhail Budyko and colleagues. This work had its origins in what has been termed the theory of aerosol climatic catastrophe, which gained prominence in the Soviet context during the early 1970s.”

“Method to create artificial clouds of vaporous alkaline and alkali-earth metals in upper atmosphere” https://zerogeoengineering.com/2025/method-to-create-artificial-clouds-of-vaporous-alkaline-and-alkali-earth-metals-in-upper-atmosphere/

Onions also don’t like weather whiplash, but we usually get a decent crop

I finally got most of the strawberries replanted. They multiplied like rabbits last summer and I gave wheelbarrows full to the neighbors and still plenty went into the compost. It’s taken quite a lot of effort to get the strawberries to multiply during our summers, but I think I finally figured it out. We’ll have to wait and see how well they produce in a couple of months. I’ll keep y’all posted!

Thanks for stopping by, and be sure to watch your skies!

What’s Been Lost III

When I first started watching alternative history Youtube channels I was skeptical, and I still am. I want the truth, not more redirection. Not more fantasy. Not more illusion. Not more heavily curated or mediocre nonsense.

So far, I don’t sense I’ve found it, but I’ve become ok with never finding it. I’ve resigned myself to what’s as close to the truth as I’ll be able to manage to get to in this lifetime, which is: I’ll never know the truth, but I may be able to manage truth-adjacent with enough study and discernment. I can confidently opt-out of the lie, permanently. That’s a big improvement to the path of blind acceptance I was, and most are, still on.

The first step toward truth was achieved pretty easily, it began with calling bluffs. As long as I don’t allow it to frustrate me, which isn’t exactly easy, this alone feels pretty empowering. For me, as usual, I had to experience it directly, no Youtube influencers, no professors, no self-styled experts can convince me, not without applying my own eyes and ears and reason.

I looked to the architecture because that’s what’s visible, and only then to the official history, because that’s what’s accepted as truth. I started in my own neighborhood, that is, the small city closest to us, called Palestine. It’s actually easier I think to consider the small city, rather than the large ones, because there’s been less tampering more likely, more holes in the narratives that can be more easily noticed by the novice.

The well-maintained Redlands Hotel today.

Like, the story of the popular Redlands Hotel, where I sometimes go for lunch on my rare trips to town. It’s a lovely old building that they’ve done a relatively decent job of keeping up, especially considering the condition of the vast majority of the downtown area.

Interestingly, they have a panaramic photo of the early years of the city on display. As you follow the railroad tracks from left to right in the photo, you end up at graffitti painted on the side of a building. That is, the word OWL.

That’s my cue to start calling bluffs.

The owners of this hotel are deep into the official history, which is superficially helpful. As it goes, in 1914 when stockholders rushed to build the brown brick building, it was oxen that delivered the sand for the concrete. That is, sand from the Trinity River, 30 miles away. Are you kidding me?! That’s a pretty big bluff.

And even with that serious transport challenge, on supposed dirt roads, they managed to complete the five story building in a year. Apparently dirt roads weren’t effected back then by rain or snow, neither were the human builders, or the oxen. Amazing.

Even more amazing was that another striking building was going up on the other side of town, that is, the County Court House. The two structures apparently shared Italian artisans who installed hexagon tile to both buildings.

The original burned court house, depending on which source cited. Another source states the original courthouse was a small building made of wood.

“Considered one of the most modern constructions of its era, and built to withstand the challenges of time, its walls are made of concrete, masonry blocks, sheetrock, and metal studs—evident in the structure today.”

My those were some busy boys and oxen!

In fact, with just a bit of digging, we learn there was in fact another town at the Trinity River junction where the cherished sand came from, now missing from both the land and the history books. But, there remains one hand-drawn map available in the archives, Magnolia was the town’s name, and it was apparently so bustling with commerce and activity according to one source that they called it the ‘St. Louis of the South”.

One of the many demolished structures of the non-existent town once called Magnolia, according to the official history.

“Magnolia was established in the early 1840s as a Trinity River cotton port and was named for a large magnolia tree in the center of the townsite. Magnolia had a post office from 1851 to 1871. William A. Haygood was one of the principal property owners in the community and operated cotton gins, a hotel, a livery stable, a general store, a blacksmith shop, and a local ferry. Among other businesses in the community were a drugstore and John McClannahan and son’s warehouse. Magnolia was reported to have a population of 800 at its peak around 1863, when the town had thirty-three blocks of residences and businesses. Most shipments from the port went to Galveston, but on May 5, 1868, a steamboat traveled up the Trinity to Dallas. After it was bypassed by the International and Great Northern Railroad in the 1870s, Magnolia declined rapidly. By the 1930s it was no longer shown on the county highway map, though its name was preserved in that of the two schools that stood on the site of the former town. In 1932 the Magnolia school for whites had an enrollment of forty-three and the Magnolia school for blacks, thirty-four. A 1982 map showed only the Magnolia Cemetery at the townsite.”
Magnolia, Texas

This is the sort of vessel which would have been traveling the Trinity River through Magnolia.

Nothing remains of this supposed river hub besides the hand-drawn map of the area where it was supposed to have been, where is now located some simple family houses, an intersection and the cemetery. I couldn’t even locate the river, or the supposed subsequent railroad.

Several other beautiful structures were also said to have been destroyed in this small city of Palestine not long after they were constructed.

The Temple Opera House was built originally as the Palestine Masonic Temple with the cornerstone date of August 29, 1878. In 1907, it was bought and remodeled by W.E. Swift and known as the New Temple Theater. In 1929, it was the home of Garrett Motor Company, Palestine’s first Ford Motor Car Agency. It was demolished in 1962. It originally had another floor on top, but this was removed at some point.

At some point? Not even the official historians can tell us more specifically.

Exquisite building of multi-functions which didn’t have enough value to the small city to remain for a full century. The small box building housing a liquor store in that location now is so much better, I’m sure.

The “Railroad YMCA Building” was another one.

The Railroad YMCA opened in April of 1903 and continued as the YMCA until the building burned in the mid 1950’s. Interestingly, there seems to be no recorded photos available of this horrid fire event of a huge BRICK building. Nothing to see here! (In fact, I believe this to be another building altogether, more on that in a future post.)

As I searched the stacks of the local history at the library I was surprised to find several ‘fake books’ — that is supposed local history written by a source who cannot be located and is listed in the local phone book with phone numbers that don’t work and at addresses which never existed. Three different phone books, three different addresses, I actually went to all of them personally. Nothing. The books appear to be written by AI! I brought this to the attention of the library board, and no one cared. At all. I never heard back, though I went personally to the board meeting with evidence in hand. They didn’t even care to know which books it was with these obvious falsities, possibly written by an unaccountable AI, and sitting in their stacks posing as actual local history written by a fake person.

And now I feel frustration setting in, so enough for now, to be continued . . .

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