Garden Progree---or Not

Pulling weeds this afternoon in the hot sunshine set my thinker in motion of past gardens.  We have lived here for 50 years.  It is easy to remember because I brought my first child home to this house. Our first mortgaged home.  She was born on May 29, 1963, so this makes a golden anniversary for our being on the farm. 

            I have had a garden of some sort most of those years.  I inherited some flowers when we bought the farm and tried to maintain them.  My mother-in-law helped me learn the world of weeding.  Which was a plant that was desirable, which went on the discard pile.  She was an expert gardener.  She had a green thumb extraordinaire,  no matter what  plants she worked with, gardens or indoors, beautiful.   Then she gets a daughter-in-law with black thumbs.

            No matter the color of the thumb, I have always enjoyed the effort.  I love being outside, digging around. I like the feel of the dirt, the smell.  I enjoy the scent it gives when it is freshly watered. Love the way tomato plants smell.  When I was a kid we always had a garden and in Wyoming growing seasons are short.  Short, but still fun.  My currant bushes, red and black are throwbacks to my past, as is my love of rhubarb.  Hardy plants, they had to be to survive from year to year.

            When we built the house we now live in I had a garden plot just over the fence on the west side of the house.  For a few years it did great, but I had a hard time keeping up with the weeding, etc.,  along with the house, chores, and 6 kids.  After awhile I had trouble with my root crops getting nematodes. I talked with the county extension agent to figure out what was going on and had never heard of nematodes until then.  Eventually even the radishes were full of those black trails and I gave it up. Imagine some little mite wanting a radish! I was throwing away a bigger portion of the produce than we were eating by the time I cut off the blackened spots and lines.

 I know I was still trying to maintain the patch when I started working full-time at school.  The fall harvest of garden, canning, freezing, etc., plus being a beginning teacher, overwhelmed me.  So I am guessing that garden spot served us for about thirteen years. It was a choice between vegetable garden and sanity.

            This week I picked my first cherry tomatoes and a cucumber from my container garden.  It felt nice and rewarding. At this stage of my life containers suit our needs in the vegetable garden department.  I have been trying it for several years now, experimenting as I go along.    We are empty nesters, retired, more or less.  Retired me, very tired husband!  Bob picked the first two tomatoes from his favorite plants just a few days ago. He brought them in as though they were trophies. Garden tomatoes are high on our list of favorite foods.

Last week I gleaned two handfuls of peas from the only 2 plants that grew---I had planted a whole package of peas—Little Marvels, I believe, two containers worth.  The two peas that grew did very well.  I think after trying peas for the last two years, they are not suited to my containers.  Remember this, brain, next spring!  The lettuce did very well, the spinach not so much.  Green beans getting a good start. I planted a whole container of nasturtiums---I have some leaves and plants, no flowers. I could eat the flowers, the leaves not so much.   My parents often had nasturtiums in their flowers. What am I not doing?  The carrots are doing well; I did two containers of them this year because last year I wished I had more than one.  We shall see.  At least I can keep up with the weeding and give the bugs a good fight.

             I do have some flowers this year, but that is for another telling.  There is also an orchard with its ups and downs.  Do you like to garden, successfully or otherwise?  Why?

Morning greeter

Each morning, sunny or grey, I hear the call of our resident mourning dove.  Generally it isn't hard to locate him.    He is the normal slate gray in color with the black spots, a longish tail feather.  Sizewise he is a bit on the plump side, which makes us think he is probably male. 
      Definitely not shy. This friendly bird will talk with my husband, who understand dove, answering the cooing call back and forth.  We hear him on all sides of our farm and often find him perched on the top of our big swing set in our back yard.  Another perch is the top of our loafing shed, across the highway that runs through our farm.  He has a little catch in his throat on occasion, so takes a breather and then repeats with more gusto.
        He calls off and on, all day long, until dark descends.  The next morning the coo-coo, coo, coo comes drifting into our open windows and helps me want to start the day.  I listen for him all through my day, indoors or out.  I hope he can feel how much he is appreciated.

Spring flowers, or maybe not

Spring slowly arrived in our country this year.  The days were cold and stormy, not encouraging to the human spirit nor to the earth waiting to burst into its annual blooming.  Finally the daffodils and narcissus poked up some green fingers.  Ah, spring is going to be here after all, I smile.  Where are my tulips?  Maybe  with the weather they are slower, wait and see.

Time passes and in a smaller bed of columbines there are tulips.   This means that all the red, yellow, orange, fringed are not coming.  They have been part of the voles diet for the winter. Miserable rodents!!  I should look at this from the scientific view and learn that bulbs from tulips must have a more delicious taste as compared to the daffodils and narcissus bulbs.  The grape hyacinth has only one straggler left, perhaps another bit on the vole menu.  I have found one tulip---a volunteer, unplanted---that valiantly pokes its green arms up each year, just a few feet northwest of the now bare-of-tulips area.  How did the crafty vole miss that one?

Voles are just another of the enemies of yards.  I see their paths here and there through out my greening grass, left as they have munched on the roots of the lawn grass.  In the dirt of the flower beds, no paths of course, but the evidence of their presence is very strong.  Now, some decisions, to put tulips there again for another year, or not?  In the meantime get planting something else that will brighten my soul and get my fingers in the dirt.  This is a very small adversity with which to deal.

Beautiful Natural Thieves

We have a thief that can cause us much grief.  No, I am not trying to be poetic.  This is a fact and a challenge not easily solved.  He visits in the daylight hours, on sunny days.  He is careful, checking for human presence if possible before he steals.

The thief is an eagle, monarch of the skies, a beautiful large aviator.  Male or female I know not, but I do know that his(perhaps her?) nest is not too far away.  His visits are too frequent to our neighborhood.  His visits take a toll, as is the case with all thieves. 

After flying high above our farm, he is always on the hunt. Lovely to behold if one did not know his intent.  His target its our fish pond and the lovely trout that inhabit those waters.  He can dive down, plummeting out of the sky, and sink his talons into the back of a fish as it nears the surface of the water.  Those hooks dig deep and the wiggling of the captured victim is in vain.  He  may fly away to eat at a more leisurely spot that where “man” may interrupt his dinner.  But he also may eat on the bank of the pond, if he is feeling undetected.  This is a picky eagle, he eats only the eyes and part of the fish’s head, discarding the flesh when he is sated.

One thing that this master of the skies does not like is bottle rockets that are launched to scare him away.  It is a temporary distraction and we know he will be back.  Three other fish ponds in the area are faced with the same problem.  The eagle is not our only thief with similar traits.  He is just the most recent one we have observed. Blue herons and sandhill cranes have a great hunger for trout. 

What can be done?   Here is a gorgeous bird that we all admire, our National Bird.  He has the protection of the government as being endangered.  He is above reproach.  He is a robber, taking expensive items much as any human thief would do, with no care for his victims.  This eagle has two victims, the fish and the man who owns the fish, who purchases the  expensive fish and feeds it.   In this case, both are helpless to prevent his assaults.

It is not so different from those ranchers and farmers whose animals are at the mercy of the wolf packs that have been invited back into the country where they once roamed free.  More protection, more victims. This seems an unsolvable problem when trying to uphold the laws of the nation.

Cold weather musings

I like living where there are four seasons.  There are times that nature seems to overlook spring and jumps from winter to summer.  On a rare year we may  have only a glimpse of fall before winter arrives after our summer.  The promise of change is good for my soul and knowing some of the wonderful things that come with each time of year is encouraging in so many ways. 

Snow brings such pristine beauty into my life and I enjoy it for that reason and others.  I like the brisk, crisp air, unless I have some respiratory disorder that causes pain when I breathe in the frigid air.    Icicles are constantly changing and when there is light on these formations it is like a splotlight on nature's crystal sculptures.  The light can be artificial or from the sun, the loveliness still exists.

I don't mind shoveling snow, in small amounts.  I am grateful that at our house we have a tractor to clear much of the walk and the driveway, the roads around our farm buildings.  Usually this extends to neighbor's homes as well.  The danger of slipping on the ice or having a solid chunk of ice from the roof drop onto an unsuspecting soul, maybe me,  that is getting harder to bear as my years go by.

Cold weather brings opportunities for fun that would be impossible without it.  I grew up skating on frozen ponds and rivers, sleigh riding, digging snow tunnels, enjoying a good snowball fight.  Didn't do much in the way of skiing, the places offering such were too far distant and expensive in my young life.  However all of my children enjoy that activity as does my spouse.  I like the fun side of winter, even when I have graduated to more of a spectator rather than participant.

This particular season, 2012-13, has brought a good winter, but it is getting a little long in the tooth.  I am ready for a change of pace. February can be a dreary month when one is bombarded with foggy days and continual gloom.  March, just the name signifies marching to warmer, green things, dirt.  As far as the work load, there will be an increase with outdoor chores.  Some of those precious reading times by a warm fire will dwindle.  Yep, think I am ready for March, even the mud that goes with it.  It has been a long, icy season and I am thinking seed catalogs, crocuses. about now.  How about you?

Winter Joys

        Last week on a cold winter night my husband and I returned home from watching a high school ballgame.  As we departed the car we noticed the prints of deer hooves right at the point of where our garage door drops down.  Some of our local deer, who have been eating our hay crop in the barn prior to our getting it sold and down the road, are now sampling the evergreen shrubs that grow on either side of our doorway. Cheeky things!  Is nothing safe?  But how nice that they are still around, minus the hay.  They have been cleaning up any scraps left in the barn from the clearing out of the hay bales.  The critters may come just as close to the house during warmer months but we don't see the tracks unless we have snow.

Another joy of winter months is the blooming of my Christmas cactus.  I inherited this lovely thing from my mother-in-law and I would guess that parts of it might be 50 years old.  She kept it on her dryer in her sun room, now it basks in front of my living room window.  When it arrived I moved it around a bit in our house trying to discover where it was most comfortable.  It took some doing but this window is a match, although the plant sticks out a mite and mars a perfect view of the TV from a certain chair.  The plant takes preference in my book.

Early this fall the plant got an involuntary pruning.  My one year old grandson knocked it off its perch and sent it crashing to the floor (carpeted, of course.)  One side broke off rather badly, down to the base.  Other sections flew.  The child was safe and that was the most important since it is a plant about the size of 3 basketballs in a large heavy clay pot.  The pot survived too. Blessings all around. I shook the plant back into place, more or less, added some new soil and wondered if it would want to bloom this winter season.  Then again it might decided all these years of beauty were too much effort and it was time to dry and wither.

It has gotten watered along with the rest of the houseplants, about once a week, maybe every 10 days or so because I suddenly recall that is a chore that needs tending.  December arrived, no buds forming.   I couldn't blame the plant after such a jolt.  However by mid month buds started forming. 

This year my beautiful friend has decided to be a New Year cactus, rather than Christmas. The blooms are the old fashioned variety that are hard to find these days in the nursery stores.  The deep rose blossoms are layered and hang gracefully.  They keep coming, so far only on the side facing the window.  Some years this plant has cheered up my winter days well into April.  Once it decides to take a rest I give it an intended pruning and share cuttings with neighbors and friends who are interested.  It has been a lovely heirloom from a lovely lady.  She was a great friend, and now her plant carries that relationship forward in memory.

Day after the Days Before, 2013

Nearly all the holiday decorations are put away.  I started to write All, and then thought about how I keep finding one here, one there, that I have missed.  Today was one of those “getting back to whatever is normal” days.   My furniture is back in place.  Husband gone on a trip, vacuum out, washing machine sloshing away, I was glad to have a warm wood fire to keep the house comfortable in our below zero temperatures.

            We have these below zero temperatures outside, snow of a fairly good depth, and yet I needed to dust.  Seems unfair, somehow.  Summer and dirt roads, yes, but now?  However it has always happened so I am no longer questioning it, just dull acceptance.  One of those  many eternal chores.

            Our squirrel of the last entry now has a name.  She is Miss Suzy, named after a favorite heroine in a childhood book of my children. My daughter reminded me about Miss Suzy and it is a perfect fit for this bustle of grey fur.  Miss Suzy put on a wonderful performance on New Year’s Day as we gathered around the table to eat dinner.  She was up and down, back and forth, even jumping from one pine tree to another.  All humans were highly entertained, no matter what their age, the youngest wanting to go play too.  Suzy goes way up high into the pines, these are 35 year old pine trees, and comes down just as fast as she goes up.  Somewhere along the way she has deposited the burden she was carrying when she started up the tree trunk.  I do want her to be safe from the predators of our neighborhood and hope that she finds a place for resting after all the exertions she puts forth.

            Now it is time to go read my current book.  Isn’t reading wonderful?!!  It has transported me to many places, situations, taught me much since I was a child.  This is one habit I want never to break!  Happy New Year to All!