Farmville

A non-gardener would think us completely crazy; today Joe and I emptied the back of my car, rounded up every available bucket, pail and rubbermaid container we could find and drove 45 minutes north to a horse farm in Boxford. Our quest? Horse manure!  Just look at this beautiful stuff:

I expected to need to roll the windows down on the ride home but the stuff is so well composted there wasn't any odor of dung; just a sweet, earthy smell of dirt. No need to Fabreze the car!

The raised beds are filled with peat moss, compost, soil, vermiculite. I added fresh compost from our bins this spring, but I really wanted some horse poo to amend the soil. After several false starts on Craig's List, I found a place that would give it away- free!  What's not to love?

The green lettuce is growing well, but for some reason the red lettuce is way behind, though the seeds were started at the same time. Hopefully with the newly added manure the red ones will take off and catch up with their green neighbors.

The broccoli is finally starting to increase in size and the carrot seeds have sprouted. Once they get a little bit bigger they'll need to be thinned out.

The garlic seems to be doing well; it's very difficult for me not to dig down to check on it.    A practice in patience......

A new bed added this spring. This year it has potatoes, which are still underground. This was the real reason I wanted to horse manure- to hill around the potatoes as they grow so they'll produce more tubers. The 4 containers have what's left of the manure, saved just for this purpose. 

This may be a yearly trek if there is a big difference in the amount of produce we get from the garden. And if the plants are half as happy as I am about the manure we'll be just fine. 

Changes in Latitude

 

 Although this past winter was incredibly easy, with record low snowfall, it seemed interminable in other ways. Prior to my surgery Joe and I promised ourselves that once I was recovered we were going to go somewhere relaxing, where we could just sit, read books and de-stress. In reality, it doesn't work that way, a trip doesn't magically erase a difficult situation, nor does it make everything ok. It does, however, give you something to anticipate, look forward to, and is a wonderful escape from the realities of everyday life.

As a rule, when we travel, we like to do a lot of walking, sightseeing and soak in as much of the area as possible. While stimulating, trips like that can be exhausting. It felt odd to go somewhere and just relax, we both struggled with not cramming our days full of adventures other than picking a place to dine and taking a morning walk along the beach with our coffees.

The beaches were gorgeous; unlike New England's coastline, the beaches were white-sanded and stretched on for miles, circling the entire circumference of the island. No harbors, inlets or bays, just one continuous, shell-covered beach. The shells were spectacular: pinks, peaches, glistening white, conch shells (very difficult to find a good one that wasn't inhabited) and even a starfish.

The water was warm enough for swimming, feeling like bath water compared to our icy north Atlantic. Our first day on the beach we saw several people pointing to a spot in the water near the shore. A fin! To our shock and amazement people started swimming towards it- even running from the beach into the water! After a second we realized it was a dolphin- up north when someone sees a fin there is a mass exodus from the waves and plenty of screaming, for it's a shark. 

 We were fortunate enough to be able to see a snowy egret, a little blue heron, which we were told would most likely be extinct by the end of our generation, pelicans, as well as ospreys.  An experienced birder pointed out a little screech owl in the bushes, which we were lucky to see. 

 

 The sunsets were spectacular. We dined at a spot called the Sunset Grille one evening, which was delicious.  After the meal we were able to walk across the street and watch the sun sink below the line of the horizon.

No, a vacation can't erase experiences we view as negative, but it can provide a welcome diversion and some unforgettable sights. How very lucky we are to have so many beautiful places in the world. 

Wouldn't it be really cool to be a bee and see that pink speckled landing strip leading up to the pollen you will collect?

I love the folklore that Foxgloves got their name because the flowers are the right size to slip onto foxes' paws, allowing them to creep silently up to their prey.

Peonies made heavier by the rain.

Garlic! Potatoes. Green lettuce. Broccoli. Something keeps eating my carrot seedlings. >:(

False indigo. This has to be one of my favorite colors of all time.

An exquisite pink and yellow peony.

Time Keeps on Slipping

It's funny how the mind plays tricks on us and from one year to the next our memories of things can get distorted; we often remember things how we wanted them to be, instead of how they truly were.

I could have sworn that the birds had

already moved into the birdhouse by this time last year, but looking back through April of 2010's blog posts, I can see that it was not the case. I'm relieved; I was disappointed to think that the nesting spot might go unoccupied this year; it was such a pleasure to see the activity and know that the house was put to good use.The same is true for my vegetable seedlings. I was thinking that I had started them earlier last year and that there was much more growth by now. Again, not so! On a post from April 7 2010 I could see that the seeds had germinated but only had one set of leaves. Currently, there are several sets on most of the little plants that are growing in the flats on the porch.

Hello, Dahlia!

Now if I could just keep the cats out of the pots in which I've started the dahlia tubers. Millie seems to think they are wonderful litter boxes!

"Chitting" potatoes to allow for earlier growth.

After this long winter I must be in more of a rush than usual to have spring arrive with all the delights it brings with it; I need to be more patient and not worry that we are behind. Things will evolve as they always do! Many of the shrubs in the yard have a greenish halo around them, the leaves are preparing to burst on to the scene at the first stretch of warm weather. The lilacs have loads of buds on them and the peonies are stretching their necks out of the soil. Even the clematis are starting to grow.

And now I've documented the goings on in the garden so that next year, when I worry that we are far behind or ahead of where we've been in previous years, I can reassure myself that indeed we are right on schedule: exactly

where we should be.

Say Hello to My Little Friend

Yesterday was finally warm enough to get outside and do the last of the spring raking and cleanup. Often in spring it's warmer away from the coast but a sea breeze will keep us on the 40s, while areas further inland enjoy 60 degrees. Not only does the wind make us much more chilly, it makes trying to corral the leaves and stuff them into bags nearly impossible.

Seven compostable bags of leaves later, the gardens are cleared and new spring growth is revealed. My spring 'daily rounds' are now possible- preferably with a hot cup of tea- to check on which plants are coming up and which ones have decided to call it quits.

While Joe was out at the DIY store picking up more leaf bags I heard a rustling in the leaves behind the rhododendron. When I approached I saw some movement and discovered that we have a wonderful addition to the yard- a small garden snake! An auspicious sign, snakes are great in the garden for eating insects, as well as being a sign of a healthy eco-system. I couldn't be happier to see this little guy!

Getting a photo of him/her proved to be difficult, as snakes do tend to be fairly shy. Other years I've seen them from time to time, slithering into a crevice in the cement by the back basement door under the porch or sadly hanging from Charlotte's jaw. This one seemed to just want to bask in the early spring sunshine. He'd pick a nice spot, then as soon as I'd approach with the camera, he'd go behind a log or under the leaves. After a while if I kept very still he'd re-emerge and find another suitable spot.

My patience eventually paid off and I got a couple good pictures of him. I do hope to be seeing more of our visitor, even if it's just the end of his tail as he makes his way to a new hiding place. Now, what to name him?

Snow Job

After the Wednesday blizzard it seemed almost miraculous that Thursday dawned sunny and blindingly bright after the previous day's darkness and storm. I couldn't resist taking a walk with my camera before the roads got too busy.

I love the way the house looks covered in snow, so cozy and charming.

The sun shining through a snow-covered tree.

The big oak in front of our house was creaking and groaning with the coating of ice and snow. I will neither confirm nor deny the fact that I got nailed - not once but twice!- with falling snow while snapping photos. Some opportunities are just too good to pass up.

Reprieve

Everyone deserves a special treat on Thanksgiving, even Baby, the late-season squirrel pup who has cleverly figured out how to hop on to my "squirrel-proof" bird feeder. Normally I'd chase him off and re-apply the butter I put on top to deter him, but today he will be allowed to stuff himself like the rest of us.

Enjoy, Baby, for tomorrow you will be relegated to scrounging on the ground, like the rest of your kind!

Little Miss Muffet

Little Miss Muffet sat on a tuffet

eating her curds and whey,

when along came a spider

who sat down beside her

and frightened Miss Muffet away!

Role reversal! As I was snapping a few photos of this big spider I accidentally nudged her web and she was the one frightened away. She hid, ironically enough, under the "welcome friends" sign we have on the back deck.

I wish the camera was able to capture her intricate web, it was huge and perfect. Sadly, the winds of tropical storm Earl demolished it and it appears Ms. Spider has moved on. She was in a great spot, bugs are always flying into that window.

Shell of my Former Self

While watering the eggplants earlier this week I discovered a very strange looking insect on the underside of one of the leaves. Ok, I admit it: I squealed like a schoolgirl and jumped back. Eventually my curiosity got the better of me and I had to check it out. I needed to know if this thing was going to be competing with me for the vegetables.

I have no idea what kind of bug it is, but it appears to be a shell. The owner must have shed it (molted?) and has hopefully moved on. Far, far away.

I wasn't able to find the opening in the shell where he/she emerged from, which is a bit puzzling, but it is hollow and there hasn't been any movement in 3 days. Not that I'm checking or anything.

Those pincers look pretty mean.

Edited to add: Thank you, google! It's actually a cicada, or as we used to call them growing up: a "heat bug". Harmless to humans and also gardens, though they can damage trees when boring holes in which to lay their eggs. Apparently, they are eaten in some countries, the female cicada being the more meaty and tasty. Yum, yum.

Bye, Bye Birdie

If anyone had ever told me I'd watch every episode of each season of the Sopranos I'd have told them they were nuts. First of all, I don't care for watching violence. Secondly, we don't subscribe to HBO and lastly, I'm usually dozing on the couch or fast asleep by 9pm. However, there is a wonderful invention called Netflix, from which one can rent just about any dvd, any series or television show from the premium channels. Sure, you've got to wait a year or two, but I am usually a bit behind the times with most fads anyway, so it's perfect!

We decided to start renting Sopranos just to see if we liked it. I've always been intrigued by the mafia ever since reading The Godfather series as a young adult. Yes, the show is violent, but hey, it's the mafia after all. The plot line and characters proved to be so engaging I was able to overlook (or cover my eyes) for most of it.

The show starts out with Tony, the head of the "family", in therapy. He's been having panic attacks from the stress of his job. One thing that had recently given him pleasure, a family of ducks who settled into his swimming pool, had just flown off. Naturally, the psychiatrist thought the loss of the ducks somehow equated to his castration fears, but that's beside the point.

The reason I bring this up is because the day after I took the picture of the momma wren feeding her hungry babies, they fledged. They had been very noisy and active, with their little heads poking out of the bird box hole in between visits from Mrs. Wren. In hindsight, it's clear they were preparing themselves for their first flights.

In some ways I felt a little bit sad that they were gone. I had grown accustomed to sitting outside for my breakfast and watching the parents make their many trips back and forth with a tasty bug or moth in their beaks. The cheeping of the babies and the chattering and singing of the parents was one of the first things I heard lying in bed in the morning. They became part of the environment and I enjoyed their presence.

I'm sure a psychiatrist or psychologist could read all kinds of things into my feelings from penis envy to being sad all over again at Wilson's growing up. Who knows, maybe they'd be right. I prefer to think it's just what it is: I liked watching them and seeing the process but it was time for the babies to go forth and do what birds do. I'm sure another year we'll have a different bird family in the birdhouse and I'll enjoy them just as much. In the meantime I'll enjoy the rest of the garden and get to weed the patch under the bird box that I had been avoiding. :-)

Twitter Update

For the past few days there has been a lot of activity into and out of the bird box, and last night, while dining on the back deck, both Joe and I heard the faintest little peeps coming from that direction every time one of the adult wrens entered the house. The babies have hatched!

What I wouldn't give for a glimpse into the box, I wonder how many there are. I do hope they all survive. Gomer isn't a threat but there have been a couple strangers passing through the yard lately: long-haired orange and fluffy-tail. Maybe Gomer's presence will keep them far enough away when the babies take their first few flights.

That's my tweet for today.

Turkey for Easter?

I'm all for breaking tradition: typically, we have a ham for dinner on Easter Sunday, but this year Millie and Gracie are hoping for turkey on the table.

We took this photo over the weekend while doing yard work. Joe spotted the 3 female turkeys in a neighbor's yard. They ambled their way down the street as though they owned the place and spent a bit of time in our and our next door neighbor's yards.

For such large birds they make a very small sound, more like a peeping noise than the "gobble gobble" we think of when we see a Thanksgiving turkey. Maybe because they are ladies?

The clash of nature and suburbia never ceases to entertain me. I guess I'm easily amused.

Barney

For the past 10 days we've had a purple finch visiting our thistle feeder. He's been easy to identify because he has a feather on his little head that is broken and sticking out at an odd angle. Joe was able to get quite close to him and discovered that he must have sustained an injury - either an animal caught him and he was lucky enough to escape, or perhaps he flew into a window.

He spent a lot of time on our feeder at first, the first day we noticed him he was there all afternoon, sleeping on and off, eating a few seeds and then just resting.

I was worried about him but knew there wasn't much I could do other than let nature take its course. I didn't know what we'd find when we came home from Maine, would he gone? Recovered and moved on, or succumbed to his injuries? I resigned myself to the not knowing but was very pleasantly surprised to see him still visiting our feeder and spending quite a bit of time there. I see it as a good sign that he's eating, I imagine if he was in very dire condition he'd just hole up somewhere and stop eating.

It seemed appropriate to give him a name since he's been around so much, I didn't feel right just calling him "that purple finch" or "our birdie". Barney seemed appropriate since he's purple.... after all, when Wilson was 4 he named Joe's Saturn Barney because it was plum-colored. Feel better soon, Barney!