And then as I was headed home, I switched on NPR, only to hear about the tragic bombings in Boston. My heart sank. My peaceful world shattered.
Tuesday, April 16, 2013
From Peace to Chaos
I spent yesterday morning hiking with two friends, exploring a beautiful woods, spectacular waterwalls, a restored mill. The wildflowers are what stole the show. Like a carpet they covered the woodland floor and then crept up onto large boulders and stone walls. The only sounds we heard were of spring songbirds, falling water, and friends laughing. We came away from our hike refreshed and relaxed. Such a peace filled morning.
And then as I was headed home, I switched on NPR, only to hear about the tragic bombings in Boston. My heart sank. My peaceful world shattered.
And then as I was headed home, I switched on NPR, only to hear about the tragic bombings in Boston. My heart sank. My peaceful world shattered.
Monday, April 15, 2013
Sunday, April 14, 2013
Up Close
Jack came out today with his good camera and took some shots of the mama killdeer. She is so cute, with her stripes. Look closely and you can see her eggs.
Saturday, April 13, 2013
Look Closely
The killdeer are back at Farm Dover. We've been seeing and hearing them for the last month or so. They are pretty "shore" birds that run along the drive in spurts, stopping every few feet to look around and see if they have startled up any insect prey. The little bird is named onomatopoeically as it cries "kill-deer" in a loud voice as it circles overhead.
We've been watching to see where they appear from to see if we can find their nest and mark it so that we don't step on it in the field. Ed was out this morning dandelion hunting when he found the nest, right on the side of our gravel driveway! He has placed 5-gallon buckets on the drive to remind us (and our visitors) to circle around so as to not disturb the nest.
The mama bird has been sitting on the nest all day, but when I walked out there just a minute ago to take her photo, she very quietly got up and walked away. Even when I clearly saw where she was sitting, it was hard to pick out the nest. It is right on the gravel, with only a few twigs around it.
Usually, when one gets close to the nest, the mama or papa bird will hold its wing in a position that looks like it is injured. Then it flaps around on the ground emitting a distress call as it moves away from the nest. The predator then thinks it has an easy prey and heads toward the injured bird and away from the nest. Once the predator is led far from the nest, the killdeer suddenly "heals" and flies away.
Pretty clever, I think. The things a parent will do to protect its young. The eggs should hatch in 24-28 days. Can't wait to see a bunch of baby killdeer following their parents around.
 |
| photo from www.allabout birds.org |
 |
| Eggs in our driveway! |
Usually, when one gets close to the nest, the mama or papa bird will hold its wing in a position that looks like it is injured. Then it flaps around on the ground emitting a distress call as it moves away from the nest. The predator then thinks it has an easy prey and heads toward the injured bird and away from the nest. Once the predator is led far from the nest, the killdeer suddenly "heals" and flies away.
 |
| Photo from kats-alter-ego.tumblr.com |
Pretty clever, I think. The things a parent will do to protect its young. The eggs should hatch in 24-28 days. Can't wait to see a bunch of baby killdeer following their parents around.
 |
| photo from birding.about.com |
Wednesday, April 10, 2013
Have you seen a mouse with a woffelly nose?
Sister Kathy came for a visit last week bearing gifts. She handed me a bag with a tag that read: Hope these are the only mice to be found at Farm Dover (or something like that). Inside were two adorable cast iron mice that have already made numerous appearances on our cheese board. Cute. Yes?
Flash forward to this afternoon when I decided it was high time to take the straw off my strawberry plants. I was scooping up big handfuls of straw when all of sudden I realized that underneath my last handful was a soft bed of fur with some little critters moving around in it. Turns out it was a nest with six little mice (almost big enough to be on their own, with no sign of mama mouse). Cute. Yes?
I called to Ed who came down with a bucket and shovel and suggested that he could simply smash them! Afterall, we have traps set in the garage, basement, and cottage and have had our share of mice-eaten car wires. "No. No," I screamed. "I'll take them away from the house and get them relocated in a nice bunch of hay in the back field." Which I did, and they seemed happy enough, although I'm sure their mama is distraught.
I think I have fond thoughts for mice because of three memories from my childhood:
1) When I was in first grade I had imaginary mice that lived in my pockets. Their names were Eencie and Meencie. They were great company.
2) My Uncle Bud gave me a little stuffed mouse that seemed to have real fur and held a kernal of corn in it's paws. I loved it dearly.
3) My favorite book of poems was "The World of Christopher Robin" and in Missing, Christopher Robin lost his dear little brown mouse. I felt so bad for him.
Flash forward to this afternoon when I decided it was high time to take the straw off my strawberry plants. I was scooping up big handfuls of straw when all of sudden I realized that underneath my last handful was a soft bed of fur with some little critters moving around in it. Turns out it was a nest with six little mice (almost big enough to be on their own, with no sign of mama mouse). Cute. Yes?
I called to Ed who came down with a bucket and shovel and suggested that he could simply smash them! Afterall, we have traps set in the garage, basement, and cottage and have had our share of mice-eaten car wires. "No. No," I screamed. "I'll take them away from the house and get them relocated in a nice bunch of hay in the back field." Which I did, and they seemed happy enough, although I'm sure their mama is distraught.
I think I have fond thoughts for mice because of three memories from my childhood:
1) When I was in first grade I had imaginary mice that lived in my pockets. Their names were Eencie and Meencie. They were great company.
2) My Uncle Bud gave me a little stuffed mouse that seemed to have real fur and held a kernal of corn in it's paws. I loved it dearly.
3) My favorite book of poems was "The World of Christopher Robin" and in Missing, Christopher Robin lost his dear little brown mouse. I felt so bad for him.
Missing
Has anybody seen my mouse?
I opened his box for half a minute,
Just to make sure he was really in it,
And while I was looking, he jumped outside!
I tried to catch him, I tried, I tried....
I think he's somewhere about the house.
Has anyone seen my mouse?
Uncle John, have you seen my mouse?
Just a small sort of mouse, a dear little brown one,
He came from the country, he wasn't a town one,
So he'll feel all lonely in a London street;
Why, what could he possibly find to eat?
He must be somewhere. I'll ask Aunt Rose:
Have you seen a mouse with a woffelly nose?
He's just got out...
Hasn't anybody seen my mouse?
-- A. A. Milne
Tuesday, April 9, 2013
Ends of the Earth
Seems like some of our best travels are to places that few people visit, and, perhaps, that few people would ever want to visit.
I'm sure that lots of very nice people have ventured to the Big Bend National Park in far southwest Texas, but I've never known anyone who has. For some reason, Ed had this park on his list of places he wanted to visit and I was only too happy to tag along. The problem is that it is very hard to get to. That didn't stop us. Last month, we boarded a Southwest Air flight to Austin, rented a car, spent the night in Austin, drove 8 hours, arrived at the tiny town of Marathon, spent the night, drove another hour, arrived at the entrance to the park, drove another hour to the Chisos Mountain Lodge, the only accommodations in the entire park. We had arrived.
It was like no other place I have been before: a weird mixture of dessert and high mountains; bone dry. Nothing lush to be seen. Beautiful in its own right.
As arid as it was, occasionally we would stumble upon the most beautiful wildflowers. Texas State Flower Blue Bonnets growing along the roadside...
...or a prickly pear cacti in bloom...
or a Huisache tree adorned with yellow pompoms....
The hiking is spectacular; offering beautiful views around ever bend; unusual flora and fawna at every turn. Oaks, pinyons, and junipers mix with desert scrub and grasslands. Birds, lizards and deer dart out the corner of my eye.
One afternoon, we drove across to the far western edge of the park, the one that borders Mexico, separated only by the mighty Rio Grande. Except it wasn't mighty. If I took a running start, I could leap across it and end up in Estados Unidos Mexicano. But with my luck I'd land in prison for a year. I didn't leap.
This tiny stream is all that flowed between the two countries and it was the only free flowing water we saw the entire time in the park. Occasionally, we would drive over a bridge, but below would only be parched earth, usually with a nearby sign warning of flash flooding. Drinking water was equally scarce. No water fountains to be found; no place to fill up a Nalgene; one must request a glass of water in the Lodge restaurant. Makes me thirsty just to think about it.
One of the reasons that I think Ed was so keen on visiting the park is that it is known as a refuge for hundreds of species of birds. A birder's paradise! More than 450 bird species spotted! We were sure that every bush, every tree, every dessert meadow would be teeming with exotic birds and we were willing to travel a very long distance to add them to our life lists. Except the birds were nowhere to be found, or almost nowhere. We woke early and hiked late to find them. Slowly, we added birds to our list. It took great patience, but we would occasionally see a roadrunner, or a Mexican Jay, or an acorn woodpecker. But mostly, we were a bit disappointed in the number of bird species that we saw.
The last afternoon we were in the park we drove to the far southeastern edge, to the campgrounds at the Rio Grande Village, near the Boquilas Canyon. Back in the 1940s, a series of irrigation canals were built to bring water to the nearby land, making farming possible. As a result, a number of cottonwood and sycamore trees grew in the relatively lush valley. Water + trees = birds!
As soon as we starting hiking we started seeing the most wonderful birds: colima warblers, tufted titmice, vermilion flycatchers, ladder-backed woodpeckers, roadrunners, cassins kingbirds, chipping sparrows, golden-fronted woodpeckers, yellow warblers, western wood peewees, and white-winged doves. No sooner would we see one interesting bird, another would appear. We spent the entire afternoon working our way further and further down the valley – thrilled every time we saw a new bird. If this is what every birdwatcher could experience every time they went watching, there would be a lot more birdwatchers in the world. It was a great way to end our time in the park -- worth every mile we travelled.
So, that's my report of our time in the park. We also had a wonderful time in Austin and St. Antonio, but that's a whole other blog post. Best saved for another day.
I'm sure that lots of very nice people have ventured to the Big Bend National Park in far southwest Texas, but I've never known anyone who has. For some reason, Ed had this park on his list of places he wanted to visit and I was only too happy to tag along. The problem is that it is very hard to get to. That didn't stop us. Last month, we boarded a Southwest Air flight to Austin, rented a car, spent the night in Austin, drove 8 hours, arrived at the tiny town of Marathon, spent the night, drove another hour, arrived at the entrance to the park, drove another hour to the Chisos Mountain Lodge, the only accommodations in the entire park. We had arrived.
It was like no other place I have been before: a weird mixture of dessert and high mountains; bone dry. Nothing lush to be seen. Beautiful in its own right.
As arid as it was, occasionally we would stumble upon the most beautiful wildflowers. Texas State Flower Blue Bonnets growing along the roadside...
or a Huisache tree adorned with yellow pompoms....
The hiking is spectacular; offering beautiful views around ever bend; unusual flora and fawna at every turn. Oaks, pinyons, and junipers mix with desert scrub and grasslands. Birds, lizards and deer dart out the corner of my eye.
One afternoon, we drove across to the far western edge of the park, the one that borders Mexico, separated only by the mighty Rio Grande. Except it wasn't mighty. If I took a running start, I could leap across it and end up in Estados Unidos Mexicano. But with my luck I'd land in prison for a year. I didn't leap.
This tiny stream is all that flowed between the two countries and it was the only free flowing water we saw the entire time in the park. Occasionally, we would drive over a bridge, but below would only be parched earth, usually with a nearby sign warning of flash flooding. Drinking water was equally scarce. No water fountains to be found; no place to fill up a Nalgene; one must request a glass of water in the Lodge restaurant. Makes me thirsty just to think about it.
One of the reasons that I think Ed was so keen on visiting the park is that it is known as a refuge for hundreds of species of birds. A birder's paradise! More than 450 bird species spotted! We were sure that every bush, every tree, every dessert meadow would be teeming with exotic birds and we were willing to travel a very long distance to add them to our life lists. Except the birds were nowhere to be found, or almost nowhere. We woke early and hiked late to find them. Slowly, we added birds to our list. It took great patience, but we would occasionally see a roadrunner, or a Mexican Jay, or an acorn woodpecker. But mostly, we were a bit disappointed in the number of bird species that we saw.
As soon as we starting hiking we started seeing the most wonderful birds: colima warblers, tufted titmice, vermilion flycatchers, ladder-backed woodpeckers, roadrunners, cassins kingbirds, chipping sparrows, golden-fronted woodpeckers, yellow warblers, western wood peewees, and white-winged doves. No sooner would we see one interesting bird, another would appear. We spent the entire afternoon working our way further and further down the valley – thrilled every time we saw a new bird. If this is what every birdwatcher could experience every time they went watching, there would be a lot more birdwatchers in the world. It was a great way to end our time in the park -- worth every mile we travelled.
So, that's my report of our time in the park. We also had a wonderful time in Austin and St. Antonio, but that's a whole other blog post. Best saved for another day.
Abuzz
Maggie's bees are all abuzz this morning. The fruit trees in our orchard are starting to bud out, finally. And the bees are going crazy, feasting on the sweet nectar. Surely spring honey can't be far behind!
Saturday, April 6, 2013
The Race
Ed and I have been racing against Mother Nature's clock as we worked all week to clean up the tree line along the drive. Tree by tree we've moved down the line, exorcizing the invasive osage orange trees, leaving the wild cherries, hickories, hackberries, cedars and walnuts. We clip the thorny, brambled branches and then Ed goes at the trunks with his chain saw. Together we stack the logs and kindling sticks and drag the branches to a brush pile.
We made it about half way down the drive before we found the first 2013 bird's nest, which was our clear signal that our tree clearning days were over until next fall.
Ed saw the nest early in the week, but assumed it was left-over from last season. He pointed it out to me yesterday and then quickly realized that a mama robin was sitting in it. We came back today to do some clean up and the mama bird was taking a break from her nest, so I snapped a photo.
Mama robins nornally lay three to five eggs, one each day. So this mama may not be through laying her eggs.
I'm not sure I'll get another chance to take a photo of the eggs. It seems that until all the eggs are laid, she limits the time she spends sitting on the nest. This is to keep the older eggs cool so that the entire clutch develops at roughly the same time. But once all the eggs are laid, the mama rarely leaves the nest for more than five or 10 minutes at a time.
Baby robins should be here in about two weeks. Can't wait to have some new avian residents at Farm Dover.
We made it about half way down the drive before we found the first 2013 bird's nest, which was our clear signal that our tree clearning days were over until next fall.
Ed saw the nest early in the week, but assumed it was left-over from last season. He pointed it out to me yesterday and then quickly realized that a mama robin was sitting in it. We came back today to do some clean up and the mama bird was taking a break from her nest, so I snapped a photo.
Mama robins nornally lay three to five eggs, one each day. So this mama may not be through laying her eggs.
I'm not sure I'll get another chance to take a photo of the eggs. It seems that until all the eggs are laid, she limits the time she spends sitting on the nest. This is to keep the older eggs cool so that the entire clutch develops at roughly the same time. But once all the eggs are laid, the mama rarely leaves the nest for more than five or 10 minutes at a time.
Baby robins should be here in about two weeks. Can't wait to have some new avian residents at Farm Dover.
Monday, April 1, 2013
Planting Lilacs
When we lived on Rainbow Drive, my friend Jeanne would show up every spring with a huge bouquet of lilacs. They filled my kitchen with the undeniable sweet scent of spring. I knew that when we moved to Farm Dover, I wanted lilac bushes surrounding our home.
I've come to learn that lilacs are often planted near a farmhouse door for good luck, and because they offered beauty in the midst of challenge and hard work. Yep.
I've also read that many families planted lilacs in the late 1860s in memory of Abraham Lincoln, as eulogized in Walt Whitman's When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom'd. And because they are long-lived plants, you occasionally see a large bush near where a 19th-century farmhouse once stood.
Last spring, we planted four lilac bushes. Only two survived the deer and drought. But yesterday, my neighbor, Sandy, brought me a lilac shoot to transplant. I'll plant my gift near the two surviving bushes and hope that 100 years from now whomever is living in our old farmhouse will smell the blossoms and think of those who have gone before. (I'm also hoping that they grow and flower while I'm still around to enjoy them!)
___________________________________
I've come to learn that lilacs are often planted near a farmhouse door for good luck, and because they offered beauty in the midst of challenge and hard work. Yep.
I've also read that many families planted lilacs in the late 1860s in memory of Abraham Lincoln, as eulogized in Walt Whitman's When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom'd. And because they are long-lived plants, you occasionally see a large bush near where a 19th-century farmhouse once stood.
Last spring, we planted four lilac bushes. Only two survived the deer and drought. But yesterday, my neighbor, Sandy, brought me a lilac shoot to transplant. I'll plant my gift near the two surviving bushes and hope that 100 years from now whomever is living in our old farmhouse will smell the blossoms and think of those who have gone before. (I'm also hoping that they grow and flower while I'm still around to enjoy them!)
___________________________________
In the door-yard fronting an old farm-house, near the white-wash’d palings,
Stands the lilac bush, tall-growing, with heart-shaped leaves of rich green,
With many a pointed blossom, rising, delicate, with the perfume strong I love,
With delicate-color’d blossoms, and heart-shaped leaves of rich green,
A sprig, with its flower, I break.
-- excerpt from When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom'd by Walt Whitman, 1865,
Sunday, March 31, 2013
Easter: Such a Joyful Day
What a nice Easter we had here at Farm Dover. The only thing missing was Mary, who is busy finishing up her senior year at MICA in Baltimore.
Friday, March 29, 2013
My Lasagna Garden
While Ed's focus seems to be on watching an inordinate amount of NCAA basketball, I prefer to spend my time planning my garden. If a game gets really exciting, I've given him orders to call me in to watch the last minute or two.
This morning, I attempted to create my first lasagna garden. It's something new I'm experimenting with this year on just a small portion of my big garden. It's a no-dig, no-till, organic gardening method that I am hoping will discourage the humongous weeds that overtook the far side of my garden last summer. Maggie is my number one encourager and was out there this morning helping get me organized.
Even though I plan to grow all kinds of things that will find their way into a pan of lasagna, the name refers to the method of building the garden by adding layers of organic material that will "cook down" over time, resulting (I hope) in rich, fluffy soil.
Like with lasagna, we started with a base (sauce) of compost, that we spread straight on top of the dead-weed portion of my garden. We followed it with water-soaked cardboard (the noodles). Then added another layer of compost (sauce).
From there, it was followed by 8 inches or so of straw (filling), followed by another layer of compost (sauce) and a final layer of straw (cheese). Here's what it looks like at ground level.
I'm planning to let it cook down for a couple of months before planting anything in it – perhaps a crop or two in late summer. If it works, I hope to expand it to a larger portion of the garden, and eventually, I'm thinking, it would be great to have the whole garden done this way. Time will tell. I'll keep you posted.
In the meantime, I'm searching my favorite cooking blogs and cookbooks for vegetable lasagna recipes. I've asked the Easter Bunny to bring me Deborah Madison's new cookbook called Vegetable Literacy. I bet she's got a good one in it.
I think I hear Ed calling me. Evidently the Michigan/Kansas game is getting excited. Better go check it out.
This morning, I attempted to create my first lasagna garden. It's something new I'm experimenting with this year on just a small portion of my big garden. It's a no-dig, no-till, organic gardening method that I am hoping will discourage the humongous weeds that overtook the far side of my garden last summer. Maggie is my number one encourager and was out there this morning helping get me organized.
Even though I plan to grow all kinds of things that will find their way into a pan of lasagna, the name refers to the method of building the garden by adding layers of organic material that will "cook down" over time, resulting (I hope) in rich, fluffy soil.
Like with lasagna, we started with a base (sauce) of compost, that we spread straight on top of the dead-weed portion of my garden. We followed it with water-soaked cardboard (the noodles). Then added another layer of compost (sauce).
From there, it was followed by 8 inches or so of straw (filling), followed by another layer of compost (sauce) and a final layer of straw (cheese). Here's what it looks like at ground level.
I'm planning to let it cook down for a couple of months before planting anything in it – perhaps a crop or two in late summer. If it works, I hope to expand it to a larger portion of the garden, and eventually, I'm thinking, it would be great to have the whole garden done this way. Time will tell. I'll keep you posted.
In the meantime, I'm searching my favorite cooking blogs and cookbooks for vegetable lasagna recipes. I've asked the Easter Bunny to bring me Deborah Madison's new cookbook called Vegetable Literacy. I bet she's got a good one in it.
I think I hear Ed calling me. Evidently the Michigan/Kansas game is getting excited. Better go check it out.
Sunday, March 24, 2013
Beep. Beep. We're Back...
Just back from a trip to Big Bend National Park (in southwest Texas, bordered on the south by the Rio Grande). From doing our part to keep Austin weird, to adding more than a dozen birds to our life list, to remembering the Alamo, touring LBJ's ranch and Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center, the trip was all around a grand success. More later, just wanted you to know that we are happily home.
 |
| beep. beep. |
Saturday, March 16, 2013
There is something growing in our basement
The tomato, kale, chard, marigolds, lettuce, cilantro, parsley and basil seeds are planted and tucked under strange lights in the basement. Big thanks to Maggie.
Dover Road: Pretty as a Picture
Our half-mile gravel drive spills out at Dover Road. The narrow country road has never looked lovelier than this morning with the daffodils in bloom, the sky blue, and Dover Baptist, striking in its white clapboard simplicity.
Friday, March 15, 2013
Good Land, Good Living, Good People
I love our Fridays at Farm Dover. Weather permitting, we work outside for a couple of hours and then head to town in the truck. (Town being Shelbyville, not Louisville.) We run errands along the way.
First stop today was the Shelby Country Recycling Center. Every couple of weeks we load up the pickup with our recyclables, separated into glass, plastic, cans, slick paper, newspaper and cardboard and drop them off at the 7th Street North center. I love this place. It is always neat and orderly; the staff cheerful; and I feel like I've done a small good deed for the environment.
Next stop: McKinley's Bread Shop and Deli. Located on Main Street, it's our favorite place for soup and and a sandwich. The ladies behind the counter always remember that Ed likes a strawberry shake "to go," so they watch to see when we are about finished with our lunch before heading to the back kitchen to hand dip a shake for him.
From there, we usually walk down the street to the Sixth and Main Coffeehouse to pick up a take-home brownie or scone and to browse their book collection – a wall full of new and used books, with a particularly nice Kentucky section.
We then take care of any other downtown business. Today, we mailed a package at the post office, renewed our truck license and picked out two audio books at the library before heading over to Rural King for jumper cables and Kroger groceries. Sometimes we'll walk through the Main Street antique stores, searching for first-edition books, cast iron cookware, baskets, or anything else that we just can't live without.
Once we finished our Shelbyville errands, we headed back to Simpsonville, via US 60, stopping at Metzger's Country Store for three bales of hay for the garden. Then it was on to Cottrell Farm Equipment Inc. for some bar oil and help getting the chain saw back in working order. Cottrell's is one of my favorite places in Shelby Country. It is an old-fashioned, family-run business and seems like everyone in the family works there, including the Cottrell brothers and most of their sons, Renee (daughter-in-law), Connie (mother). We bought our zero-turn mower, our chainsaw, our trimmer, and chainsaw protective pants there. In return, they have given us two bright orange STIHL bill caps and a ridiculous amount of advice. I'm sure when we leave the shop, they break out laughing at our lack of farm equipment knowledge.
I recently learned that Shelby County's motto is: "Good Land, Good Living, Good People." I concur with all three claims.
First stop today was the Shelby Country Recycling Center. Every couple of weeks we load up the pickup with our recyclables, separated into glass, plastic, cans, slick paper, newspaper and cardboard and drop them off at the 7th Street North center. I love this place. It is always neat and orderly; the staff cheerful; and I feel like I've done a small good deed for the environment.
Next stop: McKinley's Bread Shop and Deli. Located on Main Street, it's our favorite place for soup and and a sandwich. The ladies behind the counter always remember that Ed likes a strawberry shake "to go," so they watch to see when we are about finished with our lunch before heading to the back kitchen to hand dip a shake for him.
From there, we usually walk down the street to the Sixth and Main Coffeehouse to pick up a take-home brownie or scone and to browse their book collection – a wall full of new and used books, with a particularly nice Kentucky section.
We then take care of any other downtown business. Today, we mailed a package at the post office, renewed our truck license and picked out two audio books at the library before heading over to Rural King for jumper cables and Kroger groceries. Sometimes we'll walk through the Main Street antique stores, searching for first-edition books, cast iron cookware, baskets, or anything else that we just can't live without.
Once we finished our Shelbyville errands, we headed back to Simpsonville, via US 60, stopping at Metzger's Country Store for three bales of hay for the garden. Then it was on to Cottrell Farm Equipment Inc. for some bar oil and help getting the chain saw back in working order. Cottrell's is one of my favorite places in Shelby Country. It is an old-fashioned, family-run business and seems like everyone in the family works there, including the Cottrell brothers and most of their sons, Renee (daughter-in-law), Connie (mother). We bought our zero-turn mower, our chainsaw, our trimmer, and chainsaw protective pants there. In return, they have given us two bright orange STIHL bill caps and a ridiculous amount of advice. I'm sure when we leave the shop, they break out laughing at our lack of farm equipment knowledge.
I recently learned that Shelby County's motto is: "Good Land, Good Living, Good People." I concur with all three claims.
Monday, March 11, 2013
Starting seeds vs baking cookies. Cookies win.
I've spent the last few weeks dreaming of our spring vegetable and flower garden. My dream sequence goes something like this: read every bit of copy in a whole stack of seed catalogs – drool over the options available and turn down the corners of the pages that peak my interest; organize last year's seeds that may still be viable; make a complicated Microsoft Word table of what goes in which garden, the seed source, and whether it needs to be started indoors, or if it can be direct sown; order seeds. The dream phase is over. Time to wake up and get to actual work.
Yesterday, being a warm and sunny afternoon, Jack helped me spread compost over the big garden and in our two raised beds. Together, we planted a gooseberry bush that has languished in a Tupperware® bucket all winter and then Jack spread Holly Care, an all-natural organic fertilizer for acid-loving plants, on the hydrangeas next to the cottage.
This morning, being a cold and rainy morning, I turned my attention to getting some seeds started. First things first. I opened the small box that came in this week's mail from Johnny's Selected Seeds.
Inside were packets of peas, bush beans, beets, sweet peppers, hot peppers, radishes, tomatoes (3 heirloom kinds) zucchini, and carrots. Also included were poppies, sunflowers, zinnias, and marigolds – for my cutting garden. In addition to the seeds from Johnny's, I'm also planting ones left over from last year: kale, spinach, lettuces (5 kinds), swiss chard, sweet potatoes, gold potatoes, jerusalem artichokes. Still to consider are the herbs that I'm planning to grow: parsley, thyme, dill, cilantro, rosemary, oregano and mint.
Just reading this list, I'm beginning to realize that perhaps I've been a bit optimistic about the size and diversity of my garden, but I can't bear the thought of eliminating even one of these plants.
My plan was to work outside on the porch, getting the seeds started that could not be directly sown into my garden. For my birthday, Maggie bought me a grow light that we've installed in the basement. The plan is to get a head start on growing plants from seeds by exposing them to 16 hours a day of fake sunlight. I anticipated this afternoon's work to include filling black plastic cell flats with a seed starter mix that I bought at Fresh Start Garden Supply in Louisville and then planting individual seeds in each cell, identifying them as I go along. Sounds like a pleasant way to spend the afternoon, does it not?
But I just came in from getting things set up and it is very cold and windy out there. So, I think I'll change direction and instead make a batch of granola and dried cranberry chocolate chip cookies to ship to Mary for her Spring Break road trip.
The seeds will just have to wait for a warmer day... To be continued.
__________________
Yesterday, being a warm and sunny afternoon, Jack helped me spread compost over the big garden and in our two raised beds. Together, we planted a gooseberry bush that has languished in a Tupperware® bucket all winter and then Jack spread Holly Care, an all-natural organic fertilizer for acid-loving plants, on the hydrangeas next to the cottage.
This morning, being a cold and rainy morning, I turned my attention to getting some seeds started. First things first. I opened the small box that came in this week's mail from Johnny's Selected Seeds.
Inside were packets of peas, bush beans, beets, sweet peppers, hot peppers, radishes, tomatoes (3 heirloom kinds) zucchini, and carrots. Also included were poppies, sunflowers, zinnias, and marigolds – for my cutting garden. In addition to the seeds from Johnny's, I'm also planting ones left over from last year: kale, spinach, lettuces (5 kinds), swiss chard, sweet potatoes, gold potatoes, jerusalem artichokes. Still to consider are the herbs that I'm planning to grow: parsley, thyme, dill, cilantro, rosemary, oregano and mint.
Just reading this list, I'm beginning to realize that perhaps I've been a bit optimistic about the size and diversity of my garden, but I can't bear the thought of eliminating even one of these plants.
My plan was to work outside on the porch, getting the seeds started that could not be directly sown into my garden. For my birthday, Maggie bought me a grow light that we've installed in the basement. The plan is to get a head start on growing plants from seeds by exposing them to 16 hours a day of fake sunlight. I anticipated this afternoon's work to include filling black plastic cell flats with a seed starter mix that I bought at Fresh Start Garden Supply in Louisville and then planting individual seeds in each cell, identifying them as I go along. Sounds like a pleasant way to spend the afternoon, does it not?
But I just came in from getting things set up and it is very cold and windy out there. So, I think I'll change direction and instead make a batch of granola and dried cranberry chocolate chip cookies to ship to Mary for her Spring Break road trip.
The seeds will just have to wait for a warmer day... To be continued.
__________________
Granola and Dried Cranberry Chocolate Chip Cookies
ingredients
1 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 stick (1/2 cup) unsalted butter, softened
3/4 cup firmly packed light brown sugar
1 large egg
1/2 teaspoon vanilla
1 1/2 cups granola
1/4 cup dried cranberries, chopped
1 cup (6 ounces) semisweet chocolate chips
preparation
Preheat oven to 350°F.
In a bowl whisk together flour, baking soda, baking powder, and salt. In another bowl with an electric mixer cream butter and sugar until light and fluffy. Beat in egg, beating until combined well, and beat in vanilla. Beat in flour mixture and stir in remaining ingredients. Drop dough by rounded tablespoons 2 inches apart onto buttered baking sheets and bake in batches in middle of oven 12 to 15 inches, or until golden. Cool cookies on racks. Cookies keep in airtight containers 5 days.
makes 36 cookies
Wednesday, March 6, 2013
If someday you can't find me...
Our marathon of tree planting has been temporarily interrupted by three inches of overnight snow. I'm using the snow day to catch up on bill paying, bread making, and sitting by the fire reading some poetry.
For my birthday, Ed gave me A Thousand Mornings, a small collection of poems by Mary Oliver. I like her poetry. It is easy to read, not too serious. I read somewhere that her creativity is stirred by nature, and Oliver, an avid walker, often pursues inspiration on foot. I'm not a poet, but every day, on every walk, I am inspired by my observances of the natural world here at Farm Dover.
Some of her poems are so light that they remind me of the Shel Siverstein ones we read to the children when they were young. Here's one that cheered me today. It's called Green, Green is my Sister's House.
For my birthday, Ed gave me A Thousand Mornings, a small collection of poems by Mary Oliver. I like her poetry. It is easy to read, not too serious. I read somewhere that her creativity is stirred by nature, and Oliver, an avid walker, often pursues inspiration on foot. I'm not a poet, but every day, on every walk, I am inspired by my observances of the natural world here at Farm Dover.
Some of her poems are so light that they remind me of the Shel Siverstein ones we read to the children when they were young. Here's one that cheered me today. It's called Green, Green is my Sister's House.
Don't you dare climb that tree
or even try, they said, or you will be
sent away to the hospital of the
very foolish, if not the other one.
And I suppose, considering my age,
it was fair advice.
But the tree is a sister to me, she
lives alone in a green cottage
high in the air and I know what
would happen, she'd clap her green hands,
she'd shake her green hair, she'd
welcome me. Truly
I try to be good but sometimes
a person just has to break out and
act like the wild and springy thing
one used to be. It's impossible not
to remember wild and want it back. So
if someday you can't find me you might
look into that tree or – of course
it's possible – under it.
- MARY OLIVER
Friday, March 1, 2013
What a privilege!
Does a boy get a chance to whitewash a fence every day?”
- Tom Sawyer
Look what got to delivered to our doorstep. No, they are not body bags. They are tree bags!
In them are 10 each of Kentucky Cofeetrees, Eastern Redbuds, Chinese Chestnuts, Shellbark Hickories, Shagbark Hickories, Will Oaks, Red Shumard Oaks, Pecans, Blackgums, Flowering Dogwoods, Pawpaws, Persimmons, Wild Plum, Sassafras, River Birches, Yellow-Poplar and 100 Black Walnuts.
Through the Kentucky Department of Forestry, we ordered 250 seedlings. That's a lot of little trees to plant. Over the next week Ed and I will be out digging holes, placing the seedling roots in them, filling with dirt and tamping them down. Then we will mark them with orange tape. I can never tell if this is helpful to us or if just causes the deer and rabbits to take a second look and a nibble.
Like Tom Sawyer, I can promise that planting trees is as much of a privilege as whitewashing a board fence. Let me know if you want to give it a try.
In Like a Lion
What a gray and dreary week it has been. Today, March 1, roared in like a lion.
I've got my fingers crossed that the month will go out like a lamb.
I've got my fingers crossed that the month will go out like a lamb.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)