~
Thursday, July 31, 2008 8:30 a.m.
75 degrees, breezy, mostly cloudy
Can it possibly be the last day of July already ?
Time flies when you are having fun, that seems
to be true. It is a breezy but humid morning here on
Gomer Hill, with steam rising from the wet meadows to
join the clouds gathering above. Last night was
alternately
clear and cloudy by fits and starts, and our troops of
lightning
bugs were back in full force to festoon the nightscape.
Rain held
off yesterday until late afternoon, so we were able to
pick a spackle-
bucket full of snap beans. We enjoyed some fresh for
supper and stashed
the rest into the freezer. We also picked enough red
raspberries for a mile-high
fresh berry pie, a sweet graham crust filled with fresh
berries bound together by
cooked raspberries, blueberries, maple syrup and
arrowroot. A pint of leftover
berries that has been on the counter overnight has
already turned moldy, which
is why we haven’t been able to sell any of these
waterlogged fruits so far this
year. There are still plenty of green berries on the
canes, so we will hope for
a string of hot sunny days to ripen them properly for
sale. Otherwise we will
be making more wine and jelly than usual; nothing wrong
with that, either.
The income lost is a pittance, but I hate to disappoint
folks who have come
to depend on our berries year after year. A new threat
has moved onto the
Hill, one we have not yet seen anywhere on our property
until yesterday:
japanese beetles. We found two feeding on raspberry
leaves, and where
there are two there are sure to be many more lurking
somewhere. After
checking this site
I deduced that the warm wet summer has been optimal
for these beetles, who are often found at lower altitudes
and have finally
worked there way to 1900 feet. I will look through the
cornsilks this
morning to see if I can find any more of them. When I was
a girl in
the midwest, our local newspaper paid a buck a quart for
the beetles,
which wasn’t bad money in the 1950s. Our backyard
rose garden had
traps scattered among the bushes, but it was just as easy
to hand-pick
the little bugs off and drop them in a mayonnaise jar
containing a
little soapy water. Now the sun has burst through the
clouds
and painted the view with a radiant halo; I must immerse
myself in it before the next wave of rain arrives.
Have a wonderful day,
Daisy
~
Wednesday, July 30, 2008 10:30
a.m.
68 degrees, breezy, partly sunny
The sky has changed from impossibly blue to cloudy in no
time flat.
I believe we may see some rain around lunchtime if these
big grey
clouds contain as much water as I suspect. We had a
wonderful
chilly night, and we fell asleep to the gentle rustle of
spider plants
doing a slow waltz by the open window. We were on the
road
last night to Syracuse and back for a late plane arrival.
I was
worried about deer and kept a sharp eye for any signs of
move-
ment by the side of the road. Even on the thruway it pays
to be vigi-
lant; can you imagine smacking into such a large animal
at 65 mph ?
We saw no deer, but scads of cats, their nocturnal irises
reflecting
eerily green in our headlights. The stars were out in
full force again
last night, and fireflies remained sluggish in the
chilly air. There is much
to do today before the rain arrives, berries to pick,
spuds to snatch for
supper, and the first snap beans are ready for the
freezer. All of the re-
cent rain has sped crops along considerably; the beans
kind of snuck
up on us. As I continue to thin the beets, they seem to
double in size
overnight and now there are many that are softball sized,
just right for
grating into red flannel hash. The slow-cooked version
contains grated
potatoes, grated beets, and a few slices of bacon: dice
the bacon and fry
it up. Dump in equal parts grated beets and spuds, cover
tightly, and cook
very slowly for 15 minutes or so. Flip the whole thing
over and cook the
other side for about 10 minutes longer. It is important
that the lid fits tight;
if the vegetables don't release enough natural moisture
to prevent burning,
add a little water or broth. This is a wonderful side
dish, and can also be
made from leftover cooked beets and potatoes, diced fine
instead of shred-
ded. Some folks use corned beef or ham instead of bacon,
and it can cer-
tainly be made without any meat at all, using olive oil
or butter instead.
Have an un-beet-able day,
Daisy
~
Tuesday, July 29, 2008 8:30 a.m.
68 degrees, calm, partly sunny
The sun is warm this morning, and the lack of
breeze makes it seem
much hotter than 68 degrees. A variety of clouds
decorates the skyscape,
but none of them look to be carrying rain. Yesterday we
harvested our garlic,
pulling it with difficulty from the wet soil. Even though
we mulched the rows
with sawdust last November, the tangled mass of roots at
the end of every
bulb just didn’t want to give up its grip. Now our
big wagon bed is loaded
with stiff-necked music garlic, laid out in layers
on old wire fencing so air
can circulate freely around the bulbs. Most of the mud
dried in yesterday’s
stiff wind, and as we trim it up for storage the dirt
should rub right off. We
had white pizza for supper last night, with two fat
garlic cloves crushed into
sweet onion slices, sautéed in a little olive oil, and
topped with mozzarella
cheese. Bits of home-grown smoky bacon dotted the top,
making it a not
entirely white pizza, but adding immensely to the overall
yum ! factor. We
walked for a bit after dinner; it may have been too
chilly for lightning bugs,
but we did see several bright meteors streaking across
the starry sky. The
crescent moon had not yet risen, and the black night sky
was lit solely by
stars, with the Milky Way shining like a broad silver
ribbon. Stillness was
the keyword, no coyotes, no crickets, no barking dogs, no
traffic or air-
planes, just the silent gentle cool night breeze and all
those stars: perfection !
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Monday, July 28, 2008 8:30 a.m.
65 degrees, breezy, partly sunny
Another fast-moving storm blew across Gomer Hill
last night;
I didn’t think to look at the clock as I was too
busy dashing from
window to window to keep out the rain. Thunder and
lightning were
close, but not for long, and then the night was as still
as before. Soon
the quiet darkness will be breached by crickets singing.
Several of them
tickled my sandaled feet yesterday as I worked in the
flower gardens, tiny
little black crickets, I am guessing they were youngsters.
We walked a bit
after nightfall, and heard far-off coyotes cavorting and
yodeling, but no crickets.
Fireflies were gathered in great numbers; their merry
dance is one of my favorite
sights of summer, as if thousands of twinkling stars had
come to earth for a visit.
The morning breeze is quickly dispersing the moisture
from the air, presenting
a perfect day for just about anything we would wish to do.
I will surely plant
more lettuce and spinach; it will germinate quickly in
the damp soil, and keep
us in greens right through late summer. Our third
planting of spinach is ready
to thin for tasty salads, and the bibb lettuce seedlings
have been set into one
long row. The second crop of lettuce has mostly been
shorn by deer, so we
are at present waiting for those little transplants to
develop into firm butter-
crunch heads, maybe in ten days or so. I had soap
shavings spread out
next to the greens, but all of the recent rain has
dissolved them away,
so I must get out the grater and scatter a few more; it
truly does work
as a deer repellant, any fragrant all-natural soap will
do the job. At least
now that the hay is gone we can see them coming. Guests
are enchant-
ed at the pastoral sight of a doe and two fawns
approaching the house,
Oh, how sweet, do you think they will come closer? We
let our friends
admire the sight for about two minutes before we start
barking like mastiffs
on the hunt. Oh, no ! You scared them away ! You
betcha!
Have a doggone great day,
Daisy
~
Sunday, July 27, 2008 8:00 a.m.
68 degrees, breezy, hazy sunshine
We had some of the hardest rain I have ever
witnessed
yesterday afternoon and well into the night. Thunder and
lightning were scary at times, and we unplugged
everything
that we could think of, remembering one bad storm years
ago
when a ball of lightning shot right out of a wall socket
and raced
across the floor, disappearing back into another across
the room.
Imagine what that kind of strike could do to a computer!
At times
water flowed through the yard an inch deep, the slope
unable to re-
move it as fast as it came down. I really need to get a
rain gauge; I’ll
bet it would be overflowing this morning. For sure, the
birdbath doesn’t
need to be filled. Most of our red raspberries were
pounded into pulp
by the deluge. I am reluctant to go to the bean garden,
as we cultivated
around the little bushes yesterday and loosened up the
soil real good. I
have a vision of all of those top-heavy bean plants lying
prostrate in the
mud, gasping for air. Rain started to fall before we had
a chance to pick
any beans, and now they are sure to be (at best) covered
with splatters
of dirt. I dashed out between storms to pick flowers, and
have several
bouquets placed all over the house, from a big showy
display of red
daylilies, shasta daisies, and purple bellflower in the
entryway, to a
single rose blossom on the windowsill. Gladiolas have
started to
send up their tall bloomspikes, and a hundred-foot long
dahlia
hedge along one edge of the corn patch is glowing with
magenta
and crimson flowers. I can see from here that they
weathered the
storm just fine. Our earliest sunflowers have a few
tentative golden
yellow heads, and before we know it we will be removing
stems daily,
encouraging even more multihued blossoms to appear. There
are so
many beautiful cultivated flowers to choose from that I
have neglect-
ed the wildflowers that surround our meadows, pink sweet
peas,
tall orange daylilies, queen anne’s lace, and true-blue
chicory. If I
remember to throw a pair of gloves into my daypack, I can
gather
the prickly-stemmed viper’s bugloss as I walk the
road later today.
This is the only wildflower I know of that has both pink
and blue
hues all in one convenient blossom. It is not a native
species,but
not yet considered to be dangerously invasive. Do you
have
it in your neck of the woods? Here is a good photo of it:
http://ct-botanical-society.org/galleries/echiumvulg.html
.
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Saturday, July 26, 2008 9:00 a.m.
68 degrees, breezy, mostly sunny
We are taking our time this morning, lingering
over coffee,
enjoying the view of the Black River Valley through low-level
mist, while Gomer hill sits high and dry. It is a luxury
to be basking
in sunshine on the porch and planning our day, a small
reward following
a crazy back-breaking day of work. We had a hard push in
the gardens
yesterday, weeding like automatons, yanking and hoeing at
a steady pace
until everything was done except for the beans. We wanted
to wait for the
soil to dry out a bit more, and can probably finish
weeding those long rows
before more rain moves in. Beans are very susceptible to
soil-borne diseases
if handled while wet, and we haven’t had a dry day
for weeks. The weeds are
nearly as big as the bean plants, and must be removed
with care to avoid up-
rooting the whole shebang. After the weeds were history,
I spent a pleasant
hour putting finishing touches on the flower bed next to
the house, hauling in
compost, transplanting marigolds and zinnias, and dead-heading
geraniums.
I also gave each tomato plant a close inspection,
training the leaders up
their twine highways and picking off smaller suckers. I
had to toss a
half dozen cat-faced greenies that would never ripen
properly,
but for the most part the crop is coming along nicely.
And now, to the beans !
Enjoy your day,
Daisy
~
Friday, July 25, 2008 8:00 a.m.
60 degrees, windy, mostly sunny
Bright morning sunshine and cool fresh air are a
welcome
change from the fog and dank cloudiness of the past few
days.
We had a few good thunderstorms yesterday afternoon, and
more
heavy rain showers lingered all night long. Friends in
Boonville reported
that mothball-sized hail had done damage to their gardens,
ruining many
crops with its icy pummeling. The gardens are much too
waterlogged to
tread in for a while, but weeds will pull easily from the
asparagus and
flower beds, surrounded by sod. What few ripe raspberries
we had
were knocked right off the canes by hard rain yesterday,
so we are
still waiting for our first big picking of those. I am
sure that broccoli
is ready, but it will be an adventure getting to the
plants through the
gooey mud. We plan to uproot at least half of our garlic
as soon as
things dry out a bit; if it is perfectly ready, of course
we will continue
until the bed is empty. We will spread the long shafts on
an old length
of wire fence atop a wagon bed, and put it in a breezy
shady spot to dry,
rolling it into the barn every night to protect it from
dew. Stiff-necked garlic
needs to be cured for several weeks before going into
storage, and our barn
will be redolent with the pungent aroma even after the
bulbs are packed away.
Garlic is planted in late fall, giving it just enough
time to put down good roots
without starting to sprout, much like tulips or jonquils.
We had some fresh
garlic with our supper mushrooms last night; there is
nothing like a fat juicy
clove right from the soil, weeping its garlicky essence
all over the cutting
board before it even hits the butter in the pan.
Tonight’s salad will
be kissed with olive oil, cider vinegar, maple syrup, and
fresh
garlic, nothing but fresh greens and dressing with a
little
grating of parmesan cheese on top. Yum !
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Thursday, July 24, 2008 8:00 a.m.
65 degrees, breezy, overcast, misty
Rain has been falling off and on for the last
twenty-four hours,
but not nearly as much as downstate has had. Flooding has
been
significant in the Valley, with streams running over
their banks and
water standing in fields everywhere. We drove through Lee
on our
way to the city yesterday and saw evidence of some
powerful wind,
with whole trees uprooted, buildings blown apart, and
wires down.
Branches littered the road, and leaves lay October-thick
on the
ground, except they were still green. Entire oat-fields
had been
lodged flat, and it is presumed to have been the work of
a micro-
burst, one of the worst kinds of windstorm for inland
locations. A
tornado will usually pick a path and damage things in a
relatively
linear way, but a microburst covers a larger area all at
once, like
a giant cast-iron frying pan smashing down from above.
More rain
is on the way, coming from the south in a rather slow-moving
front
that could take a while in passing. Our gardens are
waterlogged,
and although the garlic is ready to harvest it is stuck
fast in mucky
rich soil that makes it hard to pull. Hopefully tomorrow
will present
a sunny breezy day that will help dry things out a bit
and we will be
able to get on with our outdoor work. I need to dash out
in between
the raindrops today and see if there are any more red
raspberries ready
to pick; they seem to ripen even in the rain. There is
bound to be broc-
coli as well; all those smaller side-shoots will provide
us with pungent
green spears right up until our fall crop gets ready. We
have a puzzle in
the zucchini department; while everything else is growing
by leaps and
bounds, the first zucchinis seem to be developing in slow-motion.
The
plants are loaded with tiny little green and gold fingers
that hold the
promise of tasty stir-fries and sweet nutty breads, but
they are swel-
ling at a snail’s pace. Maybe they are waiting for
the sun, as are we all.
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Wednesday, July 23, 2008 8:00 a.m.
65 degrees, breezy, mostly cloudy
A thunderstorm passed through the area in the
middle of the night,
bringing more rain; I think the threat of drought has
been squelched
by now. The past few summers have been excessively dry,
with wells
losing their stores of water and crops suffering terribly.
This year has
been great so far, a perfect mix of warm sunshine and
rain. There is
one product that has suffered from this combination, and
that is our
raspberries. I dashed out between showers yesterday to
pick what
I hoped would be at least eight pints to fill orders from
customers.
From a distance, I could see scads of big red berries
shining among
the canes. However, because they have ripened so quickly,
many were
over-done, swollen with water, and not very sweet. What
is worse, some
had started to ferment on the bush, or develop occasional
spots of mold.
Wasps were everywhere, sipping the winy goodness, so
picking was an
exercise in close scrutiny and patience. I picked almost
four pints, but
had to toss away hundreds of berries before they even had
a chance
to hit the basket. Fortunately, the season is just
beginning, and there
are oodles of green and underripe berries that should
have drier days
in which to achieve perfection. I juiced up the berries
to make into jelly
later; my customers will have to wait for better berries
than these. Mean-
while, we finally found the raccoon that has been leaving
his signs around
the property. He would not be enticed into a live trap,
and when he was
discovered living in our barn, we had to give it a fatal
dose of lead poison-
ing. Although we hated to do it, it is dangerous to us
and our pets to have
one in residence. The smartest coons up here are the ones
that will wan-
der into our Havahart and allow themselves to be
relocated. The alter-
native is not so good, for the critter anyway. We had a
neighbor that
would routinely eat the varmints he took, raccoon,
woodchuck, squir-
rel, rabbit, muskrat (AKA swamp bunny) but I am
too scared of rabies
and parasites to eat this raccoon. We will give it a
respectful burial and
hope he was a bachelor. And now, off to the Valley to
pick up thirty
pasture-raised broilers, all ready for the freezer. We
have decided
to pass on raising our own chickens this year, and have
found
a place that has birds as good as the ones we used to
raise:
www.wintersgrassfarm.com , check out
his beautiful site.
Have an interesting day,
Daisy
~
Tuesday, July 22, 2008 8:00 a.m.
66 degrees, breezy, partly sunny
Valley fog is slowly creeping up the hill, backlit
by silvery
sunshine, like some ancient mythical mist carrying
enchantments
beyond my wildest imagination. Shall I pause a moment to
think on
the old tales of mischievous wee folk and playful water
spirits ? Or
should I come back to earth and realize that, once again,
it may not
be such a good day to hang laundry out to dry. There is
surely room
for both, the fantastic and the practical... otherwise,
how boring every-
day life would seem. The mind is funny; whereas I may
imagine impish
sprites trailing etheric mist from their long slender
fingers as they dance a
joyful homage to life-giving water, others might take a
turn to the macabre,
a real Stephen King nightmare of trolls, ogres, and
things that go bump! in
the fog. And in the midst of all the mist, we will surely
take a moment to ap-
preciate all facets of Tug hill weather, which can change
at the drop of a hat,
from sun to rain and often both at the same time. In a
perfect world, we can
enjoy our daydreams and explore the world of unseen
wonders that have
shared the earth with us since time began. Although the
existence of faerie
folk and other legendary beings has never been proven,
why, it has never
been shown that they do not exist either. I have
never seen birdsong,
either, yet that is commonly accepted as real. And what
of love ?
Unseen, yet the impact it has on every living thing is
tangible and
awesome. What do you imagine will ride in with the
morning fog ?
Have a wildly imaginative day,
Daisy
~
Monday, July 21, 2008 7:30 a.m.
64 degrees, breezy, overcast
It is slightly chilly in the damp morning breeze,
and I am a little
tempted to kindle a small fire in the Kalamazoo range
just to cheer
the kitchen air. However, if I do that and the sun comes
out, the house
could go from cozy warmth to stifling heat in just a
short time. A sweater
will have to serve for now. A bluebird family sits on the
clothesline outside
my window, the parents and two fledglings. The female has
lost most of her
bright blue hue after three broods of young’uns, but
the male is just as color-
ful as ever. Just because her looks have faded does not
make her any less of
a mom, efficient as ever at plucking morsels out of the
ground to feed to her
babes. The newest hatching of bluebirds has taken up
temporary residence
in the lilac copse, safe from the jaws of the hay baler.
Yesterday I saw four
of the speckled little blue fluffballs, all present and
accounted for. Most of
our boxes are now empty, with this last brood leaving the
nest early Satur-
day morning. The box by our asparagus patch has a little
brown wren hatch-
ing four eggs. I didn’t realize that she had set a
clutch until I started to scrape
the sticks out, and there they were, five tiny amber eggs
dusted with darker
freckles. One broke as I gently replaced the whole
shebang back into the
box, and I felt a little sad, even though wrens are not a
species that we
welcome with open arms. A male wren will fill every box
with a mess of
twigs just to dominate the neighborhood; rarely will a
female actually use
one of these piles to raise a brood. I should have looked
closer, and I
would have seen that the center of the tangle was
lined with fine grasses
and feathers. We discourage them from our bluebird trail
as they often
will destroy eggs of other species in a territorial rage.
I have cleared out
countless wads of twigs from our boxes, but this is the
first time I found
one containing eggs within. There is a fine line between
being a good
landlord and playing God, and since there are no
bluebirds or swal-
lows with eggs nearby at present, this feisty little wren
can stay. To
find out more about this interesting (if unwelcome)
little bird, check
out this link.
If you are squeamish, do not watch the video of a wren
removing baby bluebirds from a nest; at least this may
explain the
disappearance of a first hatching that disappeared from
the
box in May. Sometimes the circle of life is merely an arc.
Have an interesting day,
Daisy
~
Sunday, July 20, 2008 7:30 a.m.
66 degrees, breezy, raining
Gentle rain arrived just after dawn, the kind that
will soak into
the tilled soil of our gardens beautifully. If it keeps
up all day, we
should see significant growth in our heat-seeking crops
such as peppers
and tomatoes, and our lettuce and spinach will no doubt
think about put-
ting out seeds instead of green leafy goodness. Our beets
double in size
every time I look at them, and now can be appreciated for
their tasty
sweet roots as well as nutritious flavorful greens. I dug
some potatoes
for dinner, and the yukon golds are the size of baseballs
and beyond.
The weather has been just about perfect for all of our
food crops, and
yesterday the long rows of hay were finally dry enough to
bale. Our mea-
dows are strewn with gigantic oblong bales, weighing at
least ten times as
much as our old kicker-bales. Now that we have finished
painting the back
side of the house I can concentrate on the flower bed
that has been tramp-
led by feet and ladders. Surprisingly little damage has
been done to the har-
dy perennials of the plot, but I needed to fluff up the
compacted soil, pull
scads of weeds, and refine the sharp edge where the dirt
meets the grass.
A couple of loads of compost later, and it is all ready
for the marigolds and
zinnias that have been waiting patiently in rows among
the beans and herbs.
Fruits and vegetables nourish our bodies, but flowers
feed the soul.
Have a bloomin’ wonderful day,
Daisy
~
Saturday, July 19,
2008 8:00 a.m.
75 degrees, breezy, partly cloudy
We have a hazy and humid morning here on Gomer Hill,
not yet too uncomfortable as the breeze keeps everything
all
stirred up. Last night was balmy and pleasant, perfect
for an after-
dinner stroll. We wandered down to the raspberry patch
and enjoyed
our dessert plucked straight from the canes, with just
enough daylight
left to tell which ones were perfectly ripe. The sun went
down in a
blaze of pink and melon; this time of year the setting
sun is framed
by tall trees that bracket the snowmobile trail through
the woods,
and the last lingering beams of light shot like an arrow
down that
narrow path into the meadow beyond. We did an about-face
to
watch the full moon rise, but there were too many clouds
on the
eastern horizon to catch its first ascent. Later, it
appeared above
the clouds, perfectly round and the color of a blood
orange. Mean-
while, we have identified the new weed that wants to take
over every
bit of plowed ground on our property. It is galinsoga,
also known as
gallant soldier or quickweed. The latter name signifies
the fact that the
ripe seeds have already begun to germinate on their way
down to the
ground. Fortunately, the roots are shallow and it pulls
up very easily..
Unfortunately, it is capable of germinating under adverse
conditions
and can spawn several generations a season. Last year it
grew quite
large very quickly, and completely covered our cucumber
vines in
just a short time. Now that we know what havoc it can
wreak,
we are more diligent in removing the young shoots. Just
another
neverending task that is mindless and somehow relaxing in
its
repetition, a blessing in disguise. Don't forget to count
your
many blessings, even those that are not so readily
apparent.
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Friday, July 18, 2008
8:00 a.m.
77 degrees, windy, partly sunny
Pearly clouds and pale blue sky blend into one another,
and what sunshine filters down our way is hazy at best.
The
wind is from the south and offers little relief, full of
humidity and
just kind of rearranging the overheated air. Since our
hay got wet
in Wednesday’s deluge, the slightly smoky scent of
rotting grass mixes
with the more pleasant whiff of beach roses and sweet
william as we stroll
around our property. I sure wouldn’t want to have to
make hay this week.
In just two short days the perfectly ripe dry grasses and
legumes have be-
come future bedding instead of fodder. Meanwhile, our
gardens are full
of bean blossoms, from waxy white, through several shades
of pink and
lavender, all the way to the bright red showy blooms of
our scarlet runner
beans. It won’t be long before we are enjoying snap
beans by the bucketful,
raw, steamed, sautéed, and shplucked whole into our
salads. We are current-
ly blessed with an abundance of beets and greens, and the
first broccoli of the
season will never be out of favor. Spinach is a bit
beyond the tender young
salad stage, but still enhances any pasta dish, turning
ordinary three-cheese
alfredo into alfredo florentine. Add some
diced home-cured smoky bacon,
and presto! carbonara florentine! As the next crop
of spinach kicks in, I
will strip the leaves from the older greens, blanch them
briefly, and freeze
them for midwinter spinach dip or dirty rice. Nothing
goes to waste here,
although too much carbonara florentine could
possibly go to waist.
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Thursday, July 17, 2008 8:30 a.m.
74 degrees, breezy, mostly sunny
Thick sparkling dew covers every aspect of the
morning view;
already thin tendrils of steam lift from the lawn and
mingle with the
breeze, dancing zephyrs of summertime. It may still be
toowet to get
anything done in the gardens today; yesterday’s
violent lunchtime thun-
derstorm brought buckets of rain that soaked right into
the thirsty soil. We
have been weeding machines, moving slowly up each row and
yanking up
purslane, dock, pigweed, and some new fuzzy fast-growing
weed that pulls
easily but would blanket the whole area if we let it. The
first three plants are
edible, but with so much lettuce and spinach available I
mostly just pitch it
away, saving just a few tender purslane shoots for the
supper salad to give
it more crunch. I had just finished tying up the last of
the tomato plants and
had moved on to weeding pole beans when I noticed that
the sky to the
north had become purply-black and I could hear distant
thunder. The sun
still shone bright and hot on my back, and I figured the
storm would pass us
by. As soon as that thought crossed my mind, the wind
picked up and a stroke
of lightning split the sky at the edge of the clouds; we
dashed into the house as
the first fat raindrops fell like silver bullets. The
storm lasted just about as long
as our lunch did, with lightning and thunder occurring
simultaneously several
times during the worst of it. I still had one garden task
to do that couldn’t
wait another day; broccoli was ready, so I put on my
mudboots and
waded in to cut it. We had just tilled between the rows
yesterday,
and that mucky mess tried to eat my boots more than once.
If
we hadn’t plowed up countless nails and shards of
broken glass
over the years, it would have been a joy to tread through
the goo
barefoot, but I knew better than to risk a nasty cut or
two. Soon
our house was filled with the rank stench of broccoli in
the
blanching kettle, overpowering the savory aroma of din-
ner’s roasting chicken. Supper was its own reward
last night, with everything on the table homegrown
and extra tasty for the work that it represented.
Enjoy your day,
Daisy
~
Wednesday, July 16, 2008 9:00 a.m.
77 degrees, breezy, mostly sunny
We have had a change of scenery in the last twenty
four hours;
our meadows have been transformed from wildflowers and
tall
feathery grasses into long flat rows of green hay. I got
a little sad
as we walked along the lush meadow paths for one last
ramble,
then realized that the paths are still there, same trail,
different pre-
sentation. It is our expectations and perception that
feed cues into
our brain and are transformed into the experience of
enjoyment or
disappointment, whether it be a hike, a trip to a concert,
or a piece
of chocolate cake. For example, I love cake, but eat it
very rarely,
so when I do have a piece I expect it to be sweet and
chocolaty
and slightly moist. What if I spied a piece of dark brown,
nearly
black cake at a potluck supper and took a little slice,
fully expect-
ing it to be full of sinful chocolaty goodness, but the
first bite proves
it to be licorice. I would be initially disappointed, but
would certainly
give the cake its due diligence by taking another bite
before jumping
to conclusions. A little licorice in a world of chocolate
may be a good
thing; change need not be bad, it is merely change. So
now, instead of
being surrounded by flowering weeds and tall graceful
grasses as we
stroll, we see the wild strawberries that have been
uncovered, the
voles as they dash from hummock to thatch, and more
snakes than
I would have imagined would be in one meadow. We can see
a
doe and her fawn ambling towards the house before they
get into
our lettuce, and watch young turkeys following the hens
as they for-
age through the dead grass for bugs. Same path, different
view.
Change: not just a political catchword. It’s
the way of things.
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Tuesday, July 15, 2008 8:00 a.m.
69 degrees, breezy, mostly cloudy
A few patches of deep blue sky appear now and then
through
the shifting masses of giant clouds. I am optimistically
running
several loads of wash through the machine in anticipation
of
eventual breezy sunshine. I have always preferred to hang
things outdoors to dry, for many reasons beyond those of
mere economy. I love the meditative quality of choosing
each
garment and placing it just so, pants with pants
and shirts with
shirts, socks all facing the same way, with undergarments
on the
farthest line from the road for decorum’s sake.
Sheets and towels
usually have a day of their own, and if the breeze is
straight out of
the west the morning birdsong chorus has a steady
snapping and
flapping of cotton as a backbeat. I love the way it all
sways in the
wind, like a crazy Calder mobile. At the end of the day
the fresh
North Country scent comes into the house along with the
dry
laundry, the best kind of incense. I even hang things out
in the
winter on a sunny day; the only caveat there is to avoid
things
with elastic in them, as the frigid temps will destroy
its stretch-
ability. No frost in sight on this lovely
midsummer’s day;
it is just about perfect out there for any activity. Make
sure you take advantage of the next couple of nights
to enjoy the moon as it waxes to full on the 18th.
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Monday, July 14, 2008 8:30 a.m.
65 degrees, breezy, mostly cloudy
We had a lovely day of steady rainfall that
started mid-morning
and lasted until suppertime, when the sky cleared and the
sun came
out to dazzle us as it lit up the freshly laundered view.
As the week
unfolds we will see more sun along with a warming trend,
and a small
chance of rain as we head into the weekend. Today’s
garden task will
be to prune and tie tomato plants, cutting off the
unnecessary “sucker”
branches and leaving two or three main stems to produce
fruit. We
used to trim the entire sucker off right down to the
junction, but now
we leave a couple of sets of leaves to help shade the
tomatoes as they
ripen, neatly slicing off the blossoms. Each main stem
must then be gently
guided up a piece of twine that is attached to a trellis
made of coated cable.
This year we only have a dozen plants, so the work will
go quickly, spending
about ten minutes on each plant. When we grew fifty
plants, the task would
take most of the day, with frequent breaks to stretch our
aching backs. Prun-
ing is only needed on indeterminate plants; this
means they will keep on
growing no matter what, with vines reaching crazy lengths
until frost claims
them. A determinate plant has an end- point at
which growth stops; most
patio-type tomatoes are this type. They do not require
pruning, but do bene-
fit from some kind of support to keep the fruit off the
ground. All tomatoes
should be mulched, to keep the soil evenly moist around
the roots. Other-
wise, if they get a sudden soaking of rain followed by
heat, they grow so
fast they split wide open. Our grape tomatoes have
already set fruit, little
green globes that will soon turn a lovely shade of deep
gold, brimful of
snappy sweet juice. I picked the last of the strawberries
on Saturday,
and red raspberries are just beginning to ripen; what
perfect timing !
Have a sweet day,
Daisy
~
Sunday, July 13, 2008 9:30 a.m.
72 degrees, windy, overcast, misty
Fog fills the valley, and it may be fog that I
felt on my face
when I stepped out with the dog, or it could have been a
little
drizzle of rain. We had some hard showers in the early
morning
hours, possibly called down by the festive loud fireworks
display
in the Turin fireman’s field last night. That is one
of the best venues
to have a big pyrotechnics display, as the boom! bounces
back from
Tug Hill plateau, magnified many times. It was a perfect
summer night
for a town party, balmy and relatively bug-free. After I
returned home
I took the dog for a moonlight stroll, and we could still
hear the faint
strains of rock and roll from the band at the pavilion.
Clouds were
moving in from the west, and a bulging three-quarter moon
darted
in and out of cover before disappearing for the rest of
the night.
Fireflies flashed each other by the thousands, always a
cheerful
sight. There is nothing like a midnight stroll on a
country midsum-
mer night. Make sure you carry a flashlight, and use it
when cars
approach; the last thing motorists expect to see is a
pedestrian in
the wee hours. Try not to think about the bear that has
recently
been seen nearby, or the packs of coyotes that prowl the
Hill,
or the rabid bats that have been showing up in the news.
Never
get so far away from home that you can’t comfortably
perform
an adrenaline-induced sprint back to the boundaries of
the yard
light. If you never venture outdoors in the middle of the
night, you
will be missing some of the best parts of summertime: the
scents of
dewy meadows and slightly dank forest duff, the sparkle
of stars
above and fireflies below, the sound of owls, frogs, and
crickets,
the feel of a cool breeze after a stifling hot day of
outdoor work.
Have a great day, and an adventurous night,
Daisy
~
Saturday, July 12, 2008 8:00 a.m.
74 degrees, breezy, sunny
A fawn is wandering up the road, alone for now.
It looks big enough to fend for itself, but it is odd to
see one without its mom. If it wanders into the garden,
that would explain the mystery of the disappearing
lettuces.
For the past three nights, something has been chomping an
entire head of bibb buttercrunch, leaving the roots in
the ground
but demolishing the tasty greens: three nights, three
heads gone.
When deer invade, they usually take samples as they graze,
often
nipping a single leaf from each bean plant in the row;
they hardly
ever eat an entire plant, except in late autumn when
forage is
more scarce. I would think a young deer might not have
caught
on to the forward motion that is part of grazing, so this
fawn is my
number one suspect for now. Yep, he is turning in the
lower drive-
way and eyeing the greens, back in a flash. Okay, I just
barked
like a big dog and that little guy took off like a flash.
And stay out !
I added, in case there was any question in his mind
about free lunch
at the Gomer Hill cafeteria. If he didn't understand the
words, at
least he could comprehend the intention behind them. It
is a fine
morning out there, warm and breezy, best get the outdoor
jobs
done before the wind dies down. There are always weeds to
pull,
and I believe another small batch of strawberries is
ready to pick.
Have a fine day,
Daisy
~
Friday, July 11, 2008
8:00 a.m.
61 degrees, breezy, mostly cloudy
The sun has just made a very brief appearance, softly
lighting
the greenery and beautiful flowers of the field. We got a
call from
our friend the farmer, indicating that he will start
mowing our meadows
the next rain-free day, so we will be spending a little
extra time strolling
the pathways until then to drink in the wealth of beauty
before it turns
into fodder. The cow vetch is particularly striking, a
mass of feathery
purple blossoms that is a nightmare as a garden weed, but
enchanting
in a meadow. One section of old pasture has been taken
over by daisies
(my favorite!) and pink yarrow, an unusual color that is
usually only found
in garden centers. We are expecting some much-needed rain
later today,
so our forty acre bouquet should remain intact for
another day. Last night
we harvested the first big green head of broccoli for
dinner, sweet and
steamed a little crunchy, a wonderful side dish to
complement marinated
grilled pork and the last of our storage potatoes, baked
to fluffy perfection.
A sprinkling of bleu cheese atop it all, a frosty beer, a
fire roaring in the out-
door franklin to chase away the chill as the meat roasted,
a perfect summer
repast. You can't buy that kind of dining experience at
any price, fresh, tasty,
and close to home. Dessert was a handful of sweet
strawberries plucked right
from the patch as we patrolled the gardens one final time
before dusk fell.
Life is good !
Daisy
~
Thursday, July 10, 2008 7:30 a.m.
61 degrees, windy, mostly cloudy
As yesterday was supposed to be rainy, we took the
opportunity
to head to the Valley to gather supplies for the coming
months, things
we do not grow ourselves, like calcium supplements, flour,
vinegar, and
sugar. Although we still use good old killer white in
jams and jellies, we
prefer naturally evaporated organic cane sugar for our
frozen berries and
for baking. We find that it takes less of this natural
sugar to impart sweet-
ness to a recipe, and strawberries in particular retain
their shape and flavor
better if given a light sprinkle before packing them into
pint containers. We
do all of our bulk shopping at the Community Co-op in
Little Falls, where
the staff is friendly and the prices are fair; some
things, such as Kashi break-
fast cereal, are actually less expensive than at the
local supermarket. If you
have a co-op in your neck of the woods, it is worth a
visit, especially if you
prefer organic natural food and products. We arrived home
late in the day
and discovered that little (if any) rain had fallen
during our absence, so now
we must spend several hours watering the garden with
spring water hauled
around in a 500 gallon trailer. Although it is cloudy and
cool this morning,
there is no rain in the picture, and new seedings need a
good drink so
they can sprout. While the soaker hose does its job, we
will weed and
thin the newest carrot rows, and transplant small
lettuces into newly
vacated spaces that once held mature heads of the
earliest greens.
There are also several marigold plants that are ready to
move into
the flower bed by the house, to provide a colorful border
for the
tall hollyhocks that are just beginning to bloom. Bee
balm is show-
ing their fringe of tall red blossoms, and hummingbirds
are very
interested in them, as well as the columbines and potted
gera-
niums. This is the time of year where red caps and
bandanas
are traded in for more neutral tones, lest we get strafed
by hummingbirds who mistake us for flowers. And
now, off to take advantage of this beautiful cool
morning to yank weeds in comfort.
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Wednesday, July 9, 2008 8:00 a.m.
70 degrees, windy, mostly cloudy
The air is damp and a little chilly this morning, even at
seventy degrees. A pretty stiff breeze wafts in from the
southwest, and will likely deliver rain to our area
before
the day is done. About fifty big loud raindrops hit the
roof
in the middle of the night; by the time I stumbled over
to the
window to close it, the sky had already started to clear.
Our
strawberries could use a good drink before the final
picking,
and newly sown bean seeds need to be watered in, either
by
us or by Mother Nature. We have been taking frequent
strolls
along the meadow paths, for soon they will be history,
mown,
raked, baled and stored in a friend’s barn to feed
his youngstock.
There are scores of milkweed plants in our meadows this
year,
teeming with monarch butterflies and their pretty black
and yellow
caterpillar offspring. I haven’t seen any
chrysalises yet, and hope the
hay is mown before the little critters begin to pupate.
There should be
scads of milkweed left around the wet places and near the
hedgerows
even after the hay has been cleared away. To learn more
about the life
cycle of monarch butterfly, check out this link
. To see some interesting
facts about milkweed, look here.
Our very first holiday tree was decor-
ated with milkweed pods painted red and gold; I thought
the idea was
original until I checked the EEK (Environmental Education
for Kids)
page today. This is a great site for those of you who
homeschool
your kids, or even as a supplement to traditional
education, which
pretty much ignores the natural world except for about
two weeks
in the ninth grade. There is so much to learn from the
natural world;
firsthand in the field is best, but the EEK site fills in
the gaps nicely.
Get out and explore a little before the rain moves in.
Enjoy your day,
Daisy
~
Tuesday, July 8, 2008 8:00 a.m.
75 degrees, windy, hazy sunshine
What is haze up here must be very thick fog in the valley,
as
we have lost sight of everything just past the
neighbor’s house.
The southwest wind blows the stifle right out of the air;
if it were
calm I think I would give up on outdoor work altogether
this morning.
There are strawberries to pick, so I will head right on
out for that, and
then spend a quiet hour or two preparing the ripe fruit
for the freezer.
There are still a dozen garlic scapes left to harvest; we
have enjoyed
the heck right out of this short-lived veg. Yesterday I
sautéed some
inch-long pieces of scape with spinach and a little
cappicola, then tos-
sed that with fettuccini and a light garlicky three-cheese
mushroom sauce:
perfection! We are nearly out of last year’s garlic
bulbs, but a friend told
me we can pull a few from the patch early and use them
before they begin
to separate into cloves. She cautioned me that they will
be very pungent
and to modify the recipes as needed. Modify shmodify... I
say the more
garlicky bite, the better! Three heads of broccoli are
nearly ready to cut,
and the whole row has been sprayed with bacillus
thuringicide, a natural
control to keep cabbage loopers out of the crop. I
can’t wait to have the
first fresh florets, steamed and still a little crunchy,
with fresh grated pecco-
rino romano cheese on top. Supermarket broccoli just
can’t hold a candle
to garden fare; even the frozen spears that grace our
table mid-winter out-
shine the “fresh’” stuff from the store.
We may get some much-needed
rain later today, so if you have outdoor tasks to
accomplish, get to ‘em !
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Monday, July 7, 2008 8:30 a.m.
74 degrees, breezy, hazy sunshine
We have a very peaceful morning here on Gomer Hill,
soft
green and a little hot, but the breeze feels just right.
I think our
sweet corn grew another inch overnight; it was well over knee-high
by the fourth of July and this morning I noticed it
is waist-high in places.
A couple of volunteer sunflowers tower over the corn, and
are beginning
to show the first small flower buds. With luck, we will
be able to enjoy a
variety of sunflowers from next week right through the
first fall frost. We
grow a mix of colors and sizes, planted at two week
intervals through
June, most of which continue to produce more blooms after
every cutting.
Yesterday I rode my bike around Tug Hill on back roads,
loving the power
of my own two legs, laboring up long hills and working up
a sweat, and flying
fast down steep slopes with cooling air sweeping over me.
Deerflies had a
hard time keeping up, but a couple managed to sink their
teeth into me as
I rode, leaving big hot welts that itch like mad. The
roadsides have not
been trimmed and are a riot of wildflowers and greenery.
Small green
apples show promise of a rich abundance of fruit in late
August, and
the bright white heads of elderflowers indicate a good
potential haul
of elderberries as well. No one was home at any of the
camps I pas-
sed, odd for a holiday weekend. Perhaps the high price of
gas is limit-
ing the number of times out-of-staters can come to Tug
Hill this summer.
I feel unbelievably blessed to live full-time in such a
beautiful place, where
a world of recreation is just at the end of our driveway.
I am never bored,
that’s for sure... too many places yet to explore.
Even the same places
vary from trip to trip; as the seasons change, so does
the view.
Enjoy your day,
Daisy
~
Sunday, July 6, 2008 9:00 a.m.
72 degrees, windy, mostly sunny
Yesterday was as close to perfect as a summer day
can be, sunny and
breezy and filled with pleasant gardening tasks of
cultivation and harvest.
I snipped most of the garlic scapes from the plants,
trimmed them into inch-
long poeces, and put them in the freezer after briefly
blanching them. It is a
shame that this tasty by-product of garlic is only
available for a couple of
weeks; it is basically the flower stalk of the garlic,
lopped off while still in
the bud, so that the bulbs will grow larger without any
energy going into
producing seeds. I leave a couple to bloom anyway, as it
is a beautiful
blossom that attracts bees to the garden. We have been
eating scapes
daily for ten days, sautéed and mixed into just about
everything. I hope
that the ones I froze will be an acceptable ingredient
for mid-winter stir-
fries; if not, into the stew with them. Spinach and
lettuces have grown
huge, but are still tender and sweet. I picked eight
quarts of strawberries
and made most of them into preserves, saving the biggest
to put over frozen
vanilla yogurt or on cereal. I eat my fill of fresh
berries every year, never buy-
ing commercially grown ones. Did you know that
strawberries are the fruit
that is most sprayed with pesticides, herbicides and
fungicides? This crop is
followed by spinach and bell peppers, tied for second
place for contamina-
tion by chemical residues. This is not a prize I seek out
for my foodstuffs,
which is one of the reasons we grow our own food. In this
age of food
contamination through human error, as with the current
salmonella/tomato
problem, disease can also be distributed along with the
produce; check this
out: www.thegreenguide...strawberry
Besides, strawberries always taste bet-
ter for the long wait, 320 days leading up to the month
and a half that our ber-
ry patch will keep us satisfied, supplemented by wild
strawberries and fraises
du bois munched as we hike about Tug Hill. Frozen
berries and sweet pre-
serves will get us through the rest of the year. But now,
off to see if I can
glean a few sun-warmed berries that I may have missed
yesterday.
Enjoy this fine day,
Daisy
~
Saturday, July 5, 2008 8:30 a.m.
70 degrees, breezy, mostly sunny
High thin clouds decorate the pale blue sky, and
fog is lifting
from the valley, curtain up! A bounty of
strawberries awaits our
attention, and this could be the biggest haul so far. I
am running jam
jars through the dishwasher to get them ready for their
sweet contents,
and lunch will likely be banana splits, with fat-free
frozen yogurt and fresh
berries on top. Last night’s supper had the first of
the season’s new potatoes,
a true treat. I was at first disappointed when I pulled a
red pontiac plant, and
found that the spuds were abundant, but no larger than
peas. Same with the
carolas. But holy cats! I yanked up a yukon gold bush and
there they were,
a dozen little dirty globes ranging in size from golf-balls
to tennis balls, truly
an occasion to shout yippee skippy! Oh, how
wonderful, steamed in a little
water for about twenty minutes, the first one devoured
right from the pot
before we even gathered at the table. All other courses,
delicious as they
were, took a back seat to last night’s new potatoes.
We then headed
out to enjoy some of the most spectacular fireworks I
have ever seen.
The best part, we didn’t have to leave the Hill;
just a slow stroll up the
road and we had a clear view of at least fifteen
celebrations spread the
length of Black River Valley, starting just after dusk
and continuing for
at least an hour. As a bonus, the night sky was very dark
and studded
with bright stars, planes, satellites, and planets;
fireflies mirrored their
sparkle here on earth. A very thin sliver of moon drifted
down to the
horizon, and it all blended into a pretty spectacular
show. One week
from tonight, there will be awesome fireworks right here
in Turin, at
the fireman’s field. Plan to stop by the firehall
for some chowder,
dancing, and the thunder of big ‘uns echoing back
from the hill.
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Friday, July 4, 2008 7:00 a.m.
56 degrees, breezy, mostly sunny
Everything sparkles with foggy dew this morning;
the roads are as wet as if it had rained, but I heard
no drops on the tin during the night. Thick white fog
still sits in the valley, and we are chilly even in the
sun.
Two does and a tiny fawn just crossed the road down
by the neighbor’s house, the does trudging slowly,
the
fawn frisky and cavorting with heedless abandon, the
way the young of all species do. This is the first fawn
I have seen this summer, but the hay is tall enough to
conceal just about anything. We may not have much
longer to enjoy our walks along the meadow paths,
walled in by beautiful fragrant blossoms of clover,
vetch, trefoil, and milkweed. Even the grass smells
sweet when the sun hits it. Daisies and buttercups
lend variety without scent; even the grasses shift
in hue from yellow to green to deep purple. Soon
our friend will mow the fields flat and use the hay
for his herd of holsteins. We will trade in the gor-
geous flowers of the field for clear views of young
turkeys and wild dogs trotting from here to there, one
beautiful scene traded in for another. Its all good
!
have a great day,
Daisy
~
Thursday, July 3, 2008 8:00 a.m.
62 degrees, breezy, overcast, raining
Gentle rainfall that started just after dawn both dulls
and enlivens
our view this morning. Grey clouds overhead and valley
mist soften
all the details and lend a calmness and serenity,
overshone nonetheless
by the antics of birds taking advantage of worms and
grubs that emerge
from the wet lawn. There are three brown thrasher
fledglings learning how
to feed themselves, and their little wings are not yet
proficient at the mechanics
of taking-off and landing. The parents perch and watch,
leaving little time for them
to feed themselves. For the past week they have carried
food to their brood, and
this is the first morning I have seen the youngsters out
on their own. Immature
speckled robins are mining the turf as well, and although
the grackles have
moved on, yellow-beaked juvenile starlings are abundant
in their wake.
Four bluebirds hatched yesterday morning; I apparently
peeked in the
box just moments too late to catch them in the act, as
there were still
bits of sky-blue shell littering the nest that momma
hadn’t yet removed.
They are tiny, all beak and naked shiny bodies sprinkled
with sparse grey
hairs, looking more like aliens than birds. I could see
the rapid heartbeat
under the thin skin of their chests, and their eyes were
not yet open. I
will keep a careful eye on this particular nesting box,
as it is the site of
a massacre for the first brood in early May; young birds
disappeared
one at a time. I have some duct tape strips hung from the
post to dis-
courage mammals and snakes from climbing; if the predator
is another
bird, there is not much we can do about that. It is
possible that they pas-
sed away from exposure, as the weather was unseasonably
cold during
that time, in which case the parents would have removed
the lifeless bodies
and placed them far from the nest. I feel responsible for
every bird that in-
habits out nesting boxes, it could not be otherwise. Once
those posts were
set into the ground, we declared it our duty to oversee
any and all tenants
and keep the property in good repair, just as a good
landlord should. Like-
wise we care for our dogs and cats, and whatever
livestock spends their
short lives with us. We tend our crops with care as well,
respectful of the
planet’s limited resources and treading lightly
wherever possible. It is a huge
responsibility to change the natural order of things,
which is what we do when-
ever we turn over a spadeful of earth or take a feral cat
into our heart and home.
These are projects that should be carried through from
the first seedling to the
last tomato, from litterbox training through deafness and
incontinent old age,
as with our oldest stray cat. We must practice
unconditional love and accept-
ance even with the pesky trespassing deer and berry-eating
birds, for to
become angry at their natural instincts would somehow
diminish them
through disrespect and be counterproductive to our own
contentment.
Tread lightly upon this earth, seeing,
understanding but never imposing.
Thoughtful, independent, be gracious in victory and
defeat.
Free of possessiveness, so ease of mind sweetens
relationships.
Like the scent of a rose the untroubled spirit imparts a
lasting fragrance.
Have a wonderful day,
Daisy
~
Wednesday, July 2, 2008 8:00 a.m.
72 degrees, breezy, breezy
The new-mown grass of the back yard is teeming
with honeybees
sipping morning dew which lies thick and sparkling in the
morning sun.
One landed on my knee and wandered around for a bit,
tickling and
looking a bit confused. Hello there little bee, go
enjoy some more
of our finest dew... and off it flew. There was a
time when the sight of
a bee in my personal space would have set me running,
arms akimbo,
but I am so happy to see them after several beeless
summers that all of
that primal fear has fled. They have been drawn
particularly to the sweet
umbellate blooms of our valerian plants, so next spring I
will divide the
clumps and place them around the property. A local
beekeeper used
to keep 50 hives at the edge of our west meadow, and when
they
were full of bees we had the best crop production ever.
They are
great little helpers, pollinating as they gather nectar
from blossom
to blossom. I swear, one summer the honey tasted a little
like
cucumbers. Strawberries are ready to pick again;
better get at that before the day heats up.
Have a sweet day,
Daisy
~
Tuesday, July 1, 2008 8:30 a.m.
68 degrees, calm, partly sunny
A tiny breeze twirls the aspen leaves just a
little bit now and then,
and is barely discernable on my face when I am outside.
The sun is
warm when it pokes out from behind big poofy clouds; the
air is dry
and scented with roses, privet, and valerian, almost too
sweet to bear.
The flowers are teeming with honeybees, and it looks like
colony collapse
is a thing of the past in our neck of the woods.
Yesterday we had the first
beginnings of a strawberry harvest, picking just five
quarts of sweet juicy
berries. I ate a lot of them as we picked, put some aside
for cereal, and
made preserves out of the rest. There is nothing like the
way a furiously
burbling jam kettle can fill an entire house with the
sticky cotton-candy
smell of summer, and then as a prize there are all those
jars of sweet
strawberry preserves to be shared with friends and spread
on toast the
other eleven months of the year. The first picking always
seems sparse,
but I know that tomorrow there will be twice as many
berries as yester-
day, and by the weekend I will be calling friends to come
take a quart
or two for themselves. We have draped black netting over
the entire
bed, and although I feel a little guilty denying birds
free access to
our berries, we have cut back the size of our bed by half
so there
are fewer overall to share. Once I get enough preserves
put up
and have whole berries in the freezer for winter, I will
take the
netting away and let the birds clean up the
leftovers. For some
reason, they leave the raspberries alone. The old-growth
canes
are covered with tiny little berries, and it looks like
we will be
picking those as soon as we run out of strawberries. We
have
some gooseberries this year for the first time ever, and
the quince
bush is loaded with little hard fruits. I need to
research both of these,
as they are new to me. I know my granny made killer
quince jelly,
and I have heard of gooseberry pie, both well within
my realm of
experience. Now I must go plant the third sowing of
lettuce and
spinach, so there is no break in the salad action later
this summer.
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
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