Guess What Happened This Week

One melon.

One perfectly ripe, fully developed, Bidwell Casaba melon.

We're so proud of our one lonely fruit.

And for a completely honest review (after all the many posts I put into this one melon) it does not taste like heavenly orange sherbet as it was reviewed in a melon publication. It does in fact, as I'd slightly suspected taste just like what I remember cantaloupe tasting like as a child. The reason I say, "as a child" is because I don't like cantaloupe. I may have distorted memories of the situation but I feel as though my mom tried to get me to like it all throughout childhood. It seems like it always showed up in fruit salad or as the fruit side at dinner and for some reason I always gave it a taste with unchanging results. Yuck!

Well to my long gone cousin, John Bidwell leader of the first wagon train to California, founder of Chico California, Senator, General, Mr. Bidwell you have accomplished a task that my very own mother was continually unable. I really, really enjoyed this cantaloupe type melon, this Bidwell Casaba, truly and completely enjoyed it. Not only did I enjoy the story, not only did I enjoy the family connection, the history growing in my very own backyard, and sharing my adventures with the bloggosphere, but I enjoyed a melon that I've never once liked. Thank-you.

I of course scooped out all the seeds and am saving them for future gardening endevours. Maybe one day I'll find a better spot in my yard or figure out how to clean up the soil that I suspect is awful in the bed behind the garage where I grew this lonely fruit (and it's neighboring lonely pie pumpkin). Whatever the case, I now have a plethora of seeds (still many of the ones I purchases this year and now all of the (viable) seeds from this guy) so I shouldn't ever have to purchase more.

Backyard Edition, July 27

This morning I slinked along. Ever so slowly I accomplished all the essential morning chores before I grabbed a cup of coffee and two slices of toast with blackberry jam. Since the heat wave hit I've been battling some serious sinus pressure and congestion but despite the incredible heat little Abe and I headed out back with our morning treats. He sat in his little green chair and I in mine. My tan little boy wore a simple pair of navy shorts, no shirt. He looked like every wonderful moment I can remember from my childhood; sun kissed skin, golden tinged hair, and the look of a well lived summer all over him.

We sat in the hot morning sun listening to the gentle breeze rustle the leaves on every tree. The birds were at work singing their morning tunes as usual despite the unusual temperature. The tomato garden in all of it's splendor spread out before the both of us and neither he nor I mumbled a word as we sat and ate.

I realized in that moment that I was experiencing perfection, pure simple wonderful perfection. A quite hot summer morning just relaxing with my son. Both of us enjoying the fruits of our labor, having fought the blackberry bushes together to collect the treasure. We then turned the fruits into the delectable jam. And now here we were, silent, together, enjoying the treat on such a splendid summer morning right alongside the garden we've so diligently tended to all summer long. These moments don't last long, but in them I find myself overcome with pure joy. I am forced to stop and think, to smile greatly, and to realize again each time, "this is life at it's finest!"

And now I document the garden growth.

First tomato turning red

Pie pumpkin plant in front.
Bidwell Casaba melon in back.

One of two bean plants.
I planted the seeds a little late this year but they should still do great.

One month of sunflower growth.
These are two different plants.
The photo in the upper right had corner is the first
sunflower sprout just over a month ago.

Bidwell Casaba Melon, July 16

The one surviving melon plant now has upwards of ten little melons on it. That fuzzy dew covered thing is a small melon. The only thing I have to compare this new venture to is the watermelon that I grew last year. That plant produced one melon that grew rather quickly but it kept making tiny melons, about this size that would just shrivel up and die. Now, looking at these ten plus tiny melons that do not seem to be growing I'm getting so anxious to see what happens.

I'm happy that there is definitely the potential for fruit, as the plant has clearly produced baby melons but my lack of patience is terrible. Although it seems like these fuzzy little darlings aren't getting any bigger and due to the "lovely" Michigan weather I'm in a race against the clock I have two things consoling me. 1.) This is the exact size that my one successful watermelon was on August 8 of last year. Which means I should probably not be as anxious about the clock as I've been. (One of the reasons you see so many gardening posts from me; I love to be able to quickly go back and compare from year to year). 2.) According to everything I've read, watermelon plants do generally only produce a few full size good melons, whereas casabas or muskmelons generally produce around a dozen. I think we're right on track folks. The Bidwell saga lives on!

The Bidwell Casaba Saga

As you all very well know I purchased a seed catalog in February and happened upon a family seed. I discovered that the famous General John Bidwell was a cousin of mine, led the first wagon train to California (the Bidwell Bartleson expedition), and was a spectacular gardener towards the end of his life.

What proceeded was me spending way too much money on melon seeds that probably need a longer growing season then I have. The seed company assured me that the seed would grow here though, as long as I didn't let it get root locked. I know that I started the three little seeds too early but I was eager. Eager and gardening have never been a good mix.

At ten years of age my 9x great grandfather John Bidwell (1620) traveled from England to Connecticut with his father. The Bidwells were among the first settlers in Hartford Connecticut. In 1639, at 19 years of age he was allotted 4 acres of land in Hartford, Connecticut. To this day his name is on the monument erected in memory of the first settlers at Hartford.

(Feel free to skip ahead as a long list of who fathered who shall follow) John Bidwell (1620) was father of John Bidwell (1641) who was father of David Bidwell (1687) who was father of David Bidwell II (1720). The Bidwell's stayed in Harford, Connecticut for 100 years until my 6 times great grandfather David Bidwell II moved his family to Saratoga, New York. If you do any math you'll notice that a good deal of these boys were born when their father's (and actually their mothers too) were in their 40's. These were large families and some of the children were born later in the list but my reason for noting this is that my mom was born when her mother was in her 40's. My dad was born sixth in his family when his mom was in her 30's. And I had my first (and only child) at 32, which is considered borderline old these days. It's just a neat observation for me that even in the 1700's my family was having children late in life.

My 5 times great grandfather Jacob Bidwell (1758) was born in New York. His brother Abram Bidwell (1769) was THEE General John Bidwell's (1819) father. This all means that General John Bidwell (1819) and I share the same grandparents: my 6 times great grandfather David Bidwell II and my 6 times great grandma Esther Lawrence, making General John Bidwell of the Bidwell Casaba melon a first cousin.

After researching all of the above, three Bidwell Casaba melon seeds were sewn indoors at my house in March. Two of them sprouted almost right away and took off. The third sprouted several days later and grew slowly. The first two had roots growing out of the bottom of the little pots almost instantly. I thought it'd be a good idea to buy potting soil and move them to a bigger pot so they wouldn't get root locked. They didn't like that however and slowly wilted away. The third seed still grew slowly and I sort of considered it a dud. But I kept it around and eventually it made it's way to the small bed behind my garage (I really think it's roots were a jumbled mess by that time though).

My cousin general John Bidwell (1819) was born in New York, as was his cousin Ruth Bidwell (1790), my 4 times great grandmother. On June 4, 1833 my 4 times Grand Grandma Ruth Bidwell and her husband, my 4 times great grandfather Mishael Beadle were issued a land grant from the federal government for 53.06 acres of land in Michigan very near Lake Michigan (the grant states, "paid in full by Mishael Beadle"). The Bidwell's have been in the US for 386 years. But this line of my family has been in Michigan on the west side ever since, from 1833 to date, 183 years.

Very close to the same time that my 4 times great grandparent's came to Michigan, Ruth (Bidwell) Beadle's cousin General John Bidwell at the age of 20, in the spring of 1839, living in Western Ohio with his father Abram Bidwell had a "desire to see the great prairies of the west."

In 1839, six years after my family moved to Michigan General John Bidwell set out on foot to see the great prairies of the west with only a knapsack strapped upon his shoulders and a pocket knife for protection. He eventually found himself in the Iowa territory with a 160 acre plot. He wrote that he worked at putting up a log house on his 160 acres, "until all the people in the neighborhood became ill with fever and ague - I concluded to move on."

He moved on to Platte county of the Missouri territory. The area had just been purchased from the Indians and populated rather quickly. General John Bidwell wrote that it was rich with black dirt, there wasn't a field that wasn't fertile. You couldn't find an area without a beautiful spring of clear cold water and you'd find wild honey bees in every tree that had a hollow. It was a heavenly country.

He decided to stay, took the first job he could get as a teacher, and got a claim for a large area of land in 1839. Apart from the abundant rattlesnakes and copperheads he decided that this was precisely the "great prairies of the west" he'd been looking for and he wanted to make it his home. He planned to have his father join him there after he'd established himself. Unfortunately the following summer in 1840 he took a trip to St. Louis for supplies. He was gone for a month. He wrote in his memoir that, "This trip proved to be the turning point in my life, for while I was gone a man had "jumped" my land." Normally the locals would join together in removing such a scoundrel but the squatter, "was a bully - had killed a man in Callaway County - and everybody seemed afraid of him."

"All I had earned had been spent on the land and when it was taken I lost about everything."

Out of this bad luck he decided to go on a journey that no one had thus ever been on, to take a wagon train to the almost mythical land of California. He commented that at the time there were but 100 Americans total in that land and they were almost all wild men; trappers, fur traders, or sailors that jumped ship at port. Gold had not yet been found and so not many people were adventurous enough to make such a journey.

This year I've chosen to grow a strange orange sherbet flavored melon in tribute to this man, my cousin who went on a monumental journey filled with the unknown, founded a city (Chico, California), became a master gardener, sat on the California senate and fought for the rights of Indians but had no children and in tribute to my Bidwell line; settlers, travelers, and brave ancestors that have been in the US for almost 400 years. 

The one late blooming seed, the slow goer was planted in the back bed and started to do quite well until one day weeks ago when my dogs found a rabbit in our backyard and went on a rampage thoroughly trampling the gorgeous plant. The main shoot was severed. The leaves were all torn to bits and, well, it'd made it this far so I left it in hopes that it would stay the course.

At this point I imagine it should have long luxurious shoots all over my yard, much larger leaves, and maybe some tiny fruit but at least, and I say this with continued hope, at least it now has some flowers on it. I direct sowed a second seed in the bed next to this first plant but I really think it was planted too late. The Bidwell Casaba saga continues much the same as General John Bidwell's entire life, filled with the unknown.

This took a REALLY long time to write. I now feel the need to give a HUGE shout out to Sluggy as she writes some great ANCESTRY PIECES quite often. Oh, oh, OH AND one of Sluggy's relatives was apart of the 69 people who went on the Bidwell Bartleson expedition AND the 32 people who actually made it to California. What a super small world, right!?!?!

Today was absolutely a Monday

Today was one of those days that happen maybe twice a year. Work was so stressful and overwhelming that I was on the verge of tears all day. I only cried twice and I do not have PMS. I arrived home feeling like I couldn't do a darn thing more. The thought actually ran through my mind, "how am I going to let the dogs out and feed my kid? I'm not certain I can find the motivation to get off this chair now that I've sat down."

I did find the motivation to do both and I opened all the shades to let the another round of glorious warm sunshine pour in. I made myself a to-do list simply because not taking the garbage and recycle to the road, not doing a few loads of laundry, ect; really wasn't an option and none of these things would have gotten accomplished if I hadn't written them down on paper.

Today's lovely: as odd as it may sound, I've found joy and delight this evening in checking things off the to-do list at my own pace, in my own time. Work has been so go, go, go, push, push, push, that it feels really nice to just slowly and calmly cross off each task at home. Normally I push myself at home too. For some reason I generally feel rushed. I think it's my personality. Not tonight. I absolutely won't allow it. I truly thought I'd get nothing done this evening and instead I've managed to find joy in slow steady accomplishment.

Orange Sherbet Melon

I did get the Bidwell Casaba melon seeds that I blogged about earlier (of course). My little helper planted three of them for me last week Monday, March 14th. I've been keeping them in a juice container on the window sill that's too high for him to see into so he's been asking me everyday for a week if his seeds grew yet.

Today, one week and one day later we have two little green sprouts. Last year when the tomato seeds first sprouted I was so excited. Seeing that little green pop from the soil as the first tucked under leaf was trying to tip it's head towards the sun was extremely exhilarating for me. I was none the less excited today when I noticed the first sprout in the melon pot. Hooray for life! Hooray for spring! And Hooray for home grown food. This is so exciting!

Gardening may be in my DNA

For my birthday I got a fabulous seed catalog. (I may have purchased it for myself with birthday money, eh hm) Its enormous and bursting with colorful, gorgeous fruits, vegetables, and flowers. I've looked through the entire thing several times. This last time looking through I saw something incredibly fascinating. In the melon section I noticed a seed named Bidwell Casaba. Bidwell is a family name that takes only four generations back to find, starting from my maternal Grandfather > his mom > her dad > his dad. > his mom was a Bidwell. The description reads for the Bidwell Casaba melon:

This melon was grown by general John Bidwell, who recieved his seed stock by the USDA in 1869. He was a soilder in the civil war and also became a US Senator. He grew this melon in Chico California. It produces massive fruits that weigh about 16 pounds each and are football shaped. The orange flesh is sweet and creamy. Dr. Amy Goldman says "tastes like heavenly orange sherbet," in her book Melons for the Passionate Grower.

My grandmother was a passionate gardener. I only began to grow food in my yard two years ago. But the activity is something that thrills me. I'm can't get enough of watching each little seed sprout, staring at the tiny plants as they grow on my window sill, watching them then flourish in the soil in my backyard, before too long they flower, and then by some sort of mystical magic these little seeds have been transformed into enormous plants bearing spectacular food. I couldn't ever fully describe the fascination and delight I've found in gardening.

When I saw the Bidwell Melon I had to wonder if this man was a relative of mine. Bidwell is a name I've rather enjoyed looking into in my family tree. The Bidwell's have a good part in American history. Although the Bidwell name in my family tree is flourishing with John's I was a little doubtful that this particular John Bidwell would match up to my line because he was growing that Bidwell Casaba Melon in California and my Bidwells hail from Connecticut.

I'll just cut the suspense, John Bidwell of the Casaba melon is in fact (at least from what I've been able to deduce) my first cousin 6x removed. He shares his name with my 9x Great Grandfather, John Bidwell of Hartford Connecticut, who is his 3x Great Grandpa.

The Bidwell family were apparently adventurers (and fighters). They originally came to America from England. They were in Connecticut for a while then at least some of my ancestors moved to New York, where John Bidwell (of the Bidwell Casaba Melon) was born. If you remember my POST almost one year ago about my 4x Great Grandpa Mishael Beadle who moved from New York to Michigan in 1833, Mishael was married to a Bidwell. My 4x Great Grandma Ruth Bidwell was John Bidwell's aunt.

According to wikipedia John Bidwell was not only a US Sentor that fought in the civil war and moved to California (where he grew heavenly orange sherbet flavored melons) he was also a pioneer. Like my Grandpa Mishael and Grandma Ruth Bidwell who moved to Michigan to homestead, John Bidwell "was known throughout California and across the nation as an important pioneer... He is famous for leading one of the first emigrant parties, known as the Bartleson–Bidwell Party, along the California Trail, and for founding Chico, California."

I love history. I LOVE family history and I love LOVE love gardening! What a wonderful find.

So, who votes that I NEED to purchase these melon seeds and see what bit of family history I might be able to grow in my yard? I'm afraid I live in a bit too northerly climate but I'm itching to try...