Nature's amazing colors

What an amazing sunset! Sometimes I am just awed by nature's color palette. At moments like this, I wonder if anyone else out there is thinking the same thing I am as they gaze at the skyline. I stopped splitting up the evening's wood, ran inside for the camera, snapped and stared.

Hairy beets!

I dug the beets out from under the snow-flattened row cover (should have taken it down a month ago), and was surprised to find so many. Most of them are not well-developed with hairy rootlets everywhere, but that won't stop me from cookin' them up tonight! Yumm!

Winter Carrot Harvest

I dug up the last of the carrots today. We had been harvesting them as we needed, but with the recent snowfall, and more due later this week, I figured it was time to dig them up. Between hungry mice, and a vegetable-loving Rottweiler (she some of last winter's crop) with her nose in the snow, we decided to pull them all. I weighed in 6 pounds worth! Take that and add it to all we've eaten, it was well over 12 pounds as near as I can tell. Definitely a crop worth having! Note Callie the hungry dog at the edge of the picture, eyeballing the harvest in my hands!

Snow at last!

Our first snow of the season started yesterday afternoon, but by 10 p.m. the ground was blanketed in white. Even the roads had accumulated enough to send the plow trucks out. We woke up this morning to a very Christmas-like scene. The heavy snow stuck to everything--four inches of the stuff! I've thought about getting out the xc skis, but with no solid base, I'm afraid I'll bottom out in muck. Heck, it was 65 degrees a few days ago! I don't think the ground in frozen enough, but this is a start, the first step towards a winter of fun.
The house looks lovely with its new colors, I just wish I'd completed the garage as well. Thankfully, I cleaned out the gutters Friday evening, just in time. But we still need to bury our potted plants in the garden and the balsam in the leaf compost pile. Maybe this year, we will decorate our Charlie Brown tree.
A day like this inspires me to get cooking for Christmas. We've got the fire stoked, warm enough to keep Callie (curled up in my chair) comfy. All I need now is more snow, and caroling in the background.

A mild November with dreams of a cold December...

Last weekend found John and I planting garlic, and starting spinach and kale in the hoop house. With these warm days, we've put off many of the usual October tasks, such as putting the strawberry pots into the ground. Our mini-Christmas tree (a mere seedling received years ago on Earth Day), is now well beyond a Charlie Brown tree, reaching almost 3 feet in height. It will spend another winter, buried in the leaf compost, awaiting a re-potting next spring.

We picked just over 2 pounds of carrots, luscious and frost-sweetened from the two gardens, as well as a couple more cabbage heads, and tasty sprigs of broccoli. The swiss chard continues to brave the sub-freezing temperatures, thawing mid-day so we can pick some for dinner. And the hardy parsley, lush and verdant, provides the freshes herbs possible, from the garden to the pot!

Today is another day of working on the woodpile. I seem to always be cutting, splitting and restacking. Who said it warms you twice? More like four times around here! But I relish these crisp days, woodsmoke in the air, and the smell of freshly split maple and oak in the yard.

Much as I enjoy the continued garden bounty, I'm ready to see a white blanket on the ground. Skiing is just around the corner, as I wait patiently by the woodstove, re-reading my favorite classic on ski-camping and checking up on ebay for a spare pair of dirt-cheap Epoke skis. The skis that circumvented Mt. McKinley are no longer made, but I cherish my pair--as close as you'll come to the all-round perfect cross-country ski.

Waiting for the pot

Which looks the yummiest? Right now, the Macs are prime (on the right). There's nothing like the crunch of a crisp Macintosh on a blustery October day. The Macouns (on the left) are a close second, but since they store longer, they will have to wait. And lastly, the heritage Baldwin, our longest storing apple (in the middle) will be the last variety we eat. In the meantime, I'll make up a big batch of rosy applesauce with the Macs. Callie isn't too particular. She'll eat any bit of apple--they're all good to her!

The apples give my cellar a lovely aromatic smell. And it's a comfort to see all the fruit and vegetables stored down there for the coming winter ahead.

The threat of winter...

A few random snowflakes blew around this past Friday, threatening us with an early winter. And as I write, sleet is snicking against the window pane. Wood crackles in the stove while Callie snores in the nearby chair. I'm surrounded by the sweet smell of apples. Last week we picked over 100 lbs. of Macs, Macouns, and Baldwins. I have to move them into mouse-proof containers in the cellar for over-wintering.

This is the time of year when I'm scurrying around like the critters, caching my winter food supplies, stacking and splitting the wood, battening down the hatches in preparation for the impending winter snows. We still have some hardy Swiss chard, parsley, and carrots, braving the sub-freezing temperatures. John's cold-weather greenhouse is working well for extending the life of our remaining green peppers. But I don't think they'll develop much more and may need to pulled to make way for some winter crops. I harvested the last of the basil and oregano which is now hanging to dry in the spare room.

Yup, I love this time of year. The cold sweetness of autumn represents the grand finale to our summer growing season.

Woodchick

Overwhelmed by the pile of wood I needed to trim down, I asked John for a chainsaw lesson. And after using the machine, I have a new respect for how people managed to harvest wood in the good old days. Yes, it was much faster, but man, what a heavy thing to wield, all while a whizzing chain is flying around. I did only a small amount and then handed it back over to John, my arms like macaroni. I figured it was too dangerous for me to be using if my arms were tired. So now I've earned a new nickname, Woodchick!

Stacking Winter Wood

Ah, another summer chore that I'm finally getting done in October! After chunking up Big Bertha, with a lot of help from my father and brothers, we finally got most of the wood split last weekend. The pile sat in the center of the driveway for a week, with John and I trying to noodle our way around it to park the cars. Each day, after work, I'd stack a little more until darkness called a halt. Today we made some serious headway. Unfortunately, a fair amount still needs to be cut down to fit in the little Jotul. We will be all set for wood for the next two years.

Closing down the garden

One lone sunflower, planted by a bird or chimpunk, flowered behind the woodpile, it's face turning to the sun. Even the basil is leaning towards the southwest as the sun slides further down the horizon.

I spent most of today cleaning up the gardens. The heirloom Brandywines succumbed to the late blight, forcing me to rip out the plants, then pluck the last remnant tomatoes, and a final serving of green bush beans. Curiosity got the better of me--I had to see how our carrots were fairing. Lovely, full-bodies carrots had been hiding under the Swiss chard! Even Callie tried to steal one from my bucket. Never trust a hungry Rottweiler. A few hardy butternut squash survived the squash vine borer infestation, but we won't have near the crop cellared that we did last winter. And as for John's onions--I'm afraid they're green onions, not bunching storage onions. Our remaining pepper plants are enjoying warmth under John's new hoop house (yet another project under construction in the yard). He hopes to plant some hardy winter crops under it soon.

Late summer garden

As things wind down, the coneflowers and phlox reach their glory. The late summer blooms brighten the garden while the asters and goldenrod edge the woods. Each day, I gather up another few handfuls of tomatoes, pick one more zucchini or eggplant, and watch the butternut squash ripen to a pale tan.

Our First Ever Onions!

Yesterday, we picked our first batch of onions! The old tree made a great drying rack.

What's in the harvest?

After the deer trampled and munches their way through the tomatoes, beets, potatoes, cucumbers, and squash, I figured I better salvage what I can. They kindly left the root vegetables (ate the tops of the beets and potatoes), but destroyed the New Girl tomato crop. I wonder why they didn't chomp on the corn? I froze over 8 pounds of the sweet stuff! Next, harvest all the potatoes before they churn them up out of the ground!

Fresh Picks

Our first grape tomatoes have ripened! I also picked the first eggplant, only 5 inches long, but enough to add to the already plentiful zucchini for a little giambotta!

Potato Blight Hits Eliot

John and I spent the weekend digging up the Early Rose and Katahdin potatoes down at the cabin garden. Late blight has struck, so we salvaged most of the crop and have begun a spraying regimen to save the Kennebecs and tomatoes. I pulled the Early Rose at the house as well, although they seemed to have suffered more from wireworm damage and maybe too much moisture in that location. The cabin garden yielded some very interesting potatoes--a family of Mr. Potato Heads. One even reminded me of Wallace from "Wallace & Gromit".

The House Gets a Facelift

The house is looking really nice--no more Band-Aid brown with toothpaste green trim! The crew worked all weekend (since it finally wasn't raining) and got the first complete coat on. What a difference. Even the mailman liked it. He left a note "The house looks great. Nice color!" I'm not sure what to do about the ugly wood front steps. Granite would be nice, but may settle for something a lot less pricey.

Big Bertha Moves

Dad came up for the Eliot Antique Tractor Show on Saturday. But before he signed in and parked the '55 Ford Jubilee, he put it through its paces. Dad twitched three chunks of Big Bertha up the driveway so when we cut the remaining wood, it will already be in place for stacking. That last chunk, about 4 feet high, had the tractor wheels spinning on the damp drive, but he got it up there! (Oh, and the damn kayak--that's John's project that is going to go away soon, before I call 1-800-got-junk! Maine Yard Disease is spreading.)

Callie Lou the non-working farm dog

Yesterday, in a fit a energy, Callie galloped through the garden in a mad dash, doing her version of beserker dog. She stays on the boardwalks most of the time, but her enthusiasm overtook her smarts. Luckily, not much damage was done.
After finally finishing off Ruby's old chew bone, we had to buy Callie a new one. Here she is in the back yard, having a good chomp.

Under Construction

I'm finally getting the house repainted. It's time for that horrible Band-Aid brown and toothpaste green to go away. And like any project with an old house, you are constantly opening another can of worms. I'm having rotted clapboards replaced, a new window to replace the ugly "porthole" (an octagonal eyesore soon to be a cold frame), and maybe some new front steps. Even the chimney is getting a face lift-peeling paint removed and a new coating. This rainy weather is slowing down the painting, but it will look so nice when it's done! The house will be a blue-grey (Lexington Blue), with white trim, and a claret door. Stay tuned!

What's Growing (and what's not)

At the home garden, we're seeing little cucumbers forming, and mini-zucchini. Yesterday, I dug out a few Early Rose new potatoes for our supper--delicious! The tomatoes seem to have stagnated--flowers, bud no fruit forming. And of course, the radishes, peas, and chard are doing well in this cool weather. The spinach needs to be re-seeded and we started another row of lettuce and beets yesterday. I'm watching the tomatoes to be sure we don't get late blight--a disease which can wipe out our crop!

The cabin garden looks much more promising for tomatoes (the New Girl variety), and we've enjoyed some delicious radishes and beet greens. But cutworms decimated the pole beans and lima beans. The winter squash appears to be holding its own. The corn, on the other hand, is spotty at best. And you can definitely see where compost was spread, and where it wasn't! There's a stark difference in the output.

The wonder of blue birds...

Last night, an indigo bunting landed at the feeder, giving us ample time to grab the binoculars and get a gander at his amazing blue colors ranging from royal blue to iridescent turquoise--a true gem!

Hunter in the Garden

A few days ago I noticed a garter snake in the garden, out looking for breakfast. I think it was eyeballing that juicy snail clinging to the onion stalk. I welcome any predators I can get that will keep the pest numbers down.

Sunny At Last

After nearly three weeks of solid rain, the sun finally returned for good on July 5th. We enjoyed an entire day of breezy sunny skies. I aired out the house, caught up on accumulating laundry in the cellar, and reseeded the slug-devastated lettuce bed. John and I spent a few hours at the Cabin Garden hoeing the corn and squash, thinning beets, and pruning/staking the tomatoes. It looks like me might see some fruit from our labors in the near future--the tomatoes are forming!

While the wind whipped through the laundry, I mowed the backyard, regaining the upper hand on the soon-to-be hayfield. John made some headway with the chain saw on Big Bertha, lopping off another few feet. We will need to get that tree moved by winter or the highway department will be after me!

Here I am, on my second tractor lesson, tilling the new Cabin Garden this spring.

Rain, rain, go away!

I think it's time to grow gills. This constant rain and dismal grey is beginning to wear on me. Kudos to those inhabitants of the Pacific northwest. I don't know how they do it!

I've neglected the garden (not that there's much to do except weed), leaving the lettuce beds to the slugs and snails. We finally had a brief respite last evening. The sun actually shone! I grabbed my hoe and made a dash to the potatoes which needed some serious hilling. Then I tackled the greens. Bolting spinach and slug-chewed lettuce were on last night's menu. Our basil, well it's just throwing in the towel. The plants are yellowed and chewed by some critter. I may have to dash to the greenhouse and see if they still have some potted plants so I can start anew. Yet, Ocimum basilica (Genovese basil) really needs some hot temperatures and strong sun, so maybe I'd be wasting money. Same for the tomatoes--very lush green, but the flowers.....hmmm....

Bucky versus Bike

I've been foiled by weather much of this spring. My plans to start biking to work back in April have slipped all the way to June. To date, only two days of riding! I feel guilty when I have to drive, on yet another, rainy day. This week, my schedule changed, eliminating Mondays as a riding day since I'll be working the evening shift. Yup, another guilt trip. As I watch the price of gas climb, I tell myself I need to find a safe route for the entire way so I don't drive the first five miles (even that makes me feel guilty). An alternative route would add a few extra miles (not a bad thing), but I'd have to get my rear in gear much sooner! Half the battle is being organized the night before so I'm not running around gathering items and gear every morning. If I'm going to continue driving Bucky, I need get my carbon credits biking more!

What to do today

There's a steady rain plinking in the gutter, the birds are downright quiet, holed up under the tree boughs. I think Callie Lou has the right idea...take a nap, read a book, take a nap, read another book, snooze....

The Cabin Garden

Just in case we didn't have enough to manage, John and I recreated the Cabin Garden (or Garden #2) down in Eliot. This is where we planted everything that won't fit in our Maple Corner plots; crops like corn (which is up 3 inches), and more varieties of beans, brussel sprouts, excess potatoes, excess tomatoes, beets, etc. Note Bucky the Trucky backed up next to the garden. With no access to water, we hauled it and watered by hand. And the fence isn't to keep out just 4 legged varmits, but the 2 legged variety too! Yes, local neighbors think it's their free CSA, so we are hoping to deter them with the fence.
Check out John's snazzy new sun hat!

It's all about gardening...

Each morning, I take my coffee and perambulate around the gardens to see what has come up or flowered. Callie sniffs the borders, checking where last night's visiting skunks and raccoons passed by. We added more garden space (yes, less lawn to mow) but I haven't decided what to plant there yet. We're munching our way through the first crop of spinach and lettuce, with a few French Breakfast radishes thrown in. I have a few rogue potatoes I missed last fall, sprouting amidst the Swiss chard and lettuce. I may have to dig them up early before they shade out the smaller leafy green.

Stunning bird life

I saw him! Yesterday morning, high in the tree canopy, in the early morning sunshine peeking over the hilltop--the elusive scarlet tanager sang in the treetops! Now I'm on the prowl every day, listening and looking. I wish that photo was mine! Unfortunately, he was way too high up in the trees.

Other spottings: two Baltimore orioles, great crested flycatcher hopping about in the maple, and the catbirds have returned.

May Songsters

With the arrival of May, an entire crop of warblers and songsters have returned to the woods and fields. The musical song of the mysterious wood thrush echoes through the woodlands, camouflaged by the newly open leaves. The oven bird hops around the forest floor, then flits up into the trees as I walk down the street. Out at the cabin garden, a black and white warbler wheezed in the trees, and a field sparrow accompanied our gardening with a pretty song from the apple tree. Tonight, I heard the elusive scarlet tanager--one of the birds I need to see for my life list--but no sign of him. Each day the woods become denser as the leaves pop open even more.

Another recent arrival

The red-bellied woodpecker has returned to our remaining stately maple. This species has become more prevalent in our area in the recent years. And what a striking bird it is--that flaming red-orange crest!

Morning and evening chorus

I love listening to the day fade away, serenaded by the birds and frogs. First, the robins sing, and lastly, the cardinals. Once the sun disappears, then the peepers start up in the pond. What a lovely sound to lull you to sleep. And come morning, it's the reverse, starting with the cardinals. This morning was even more special when I heard a few white-throated sparrows singing, "Mrs. Peabody, Peabody, Peabody." I haven't seen too many of these little sparrows around over the last few years. Word was, they migrated further west. So it was a pleasure to hear their song at 6:30 this morning and see them scratching at seeds under the feeders.

Too hot too soon

Alright, if there's any proof of global warming, how about 82 degrees on an April day in Maine? Things are greening up, but the sunburn factor is pretty high when there's no shade yet! I transplanted all our veggies into bigger pots yesterday and pinkened up a bit in the process. Oops, forgot to put sunblock on the arms!

Mourning Cloak butterfly

One of our earliest butterflies appeared on Friday, April 17th. The Mourning Cloak butterfly, so-named by Thaddeus W. Harris because the caterpillars were believed to be venomous. With its hairy, spiny appearance, this caterpillar morphs into a beautiful butterfly. Out on Big Bertha's stump, a Mourning Cloak was sipping at the sap, still puddled in the center.

Phoebes are back

While walking Callie Lou, I heard the first phoebe of the season. Many people confuse this dull olivey-grey bird's call with the black-capped chickadee who also gives a "fee-bee" call. The phoebe's is a much more raspy call, with a descending ending. Despite its dull color and non-musical call, this little bird is a tremendous bug-eater. So welcome back, phoebes!

Salvaging in the cellar

Spring rains have raised the humidity in my cellar, thus destroying the last of the winter squash. Four lovely Waltham Butternut are headed for the compost bin. The last six Northern Spy apples are turning to mush--also headed up the hill to the composter. But the shelves are still lines with mason jars of pickles, tomato sauce, giambotta (aka Grandma's junka food), blueberry and peach jams, apple butter, and apples sauce.
Grandma would have smiled to see all we preserved, and I think she's smiling right now, just listening to all the chatter out there about small farms, raising chickens, and locovores. You couldn't get much more local for her--veggie gardens, chickens, an occasional milk cow, goats, pigs, and the random lamb--all providing food for her kitchen.
What would Grandma think about being in a blog?

Frogs and Flowers

Callie and I heard frogs on our walk tonight. A vernal pool full of frogs sang in the evening's warmth. And we spied crocus flowers blooming in someone's lawn. Just as I was bringing in the wood, a Carolina wren began singing, "tea-kettle, tea-kettle, tea-kettle."


Tomorrow, we're due to get thunderstorms--Spring has sprung and we're late starting our seedlings!

Happy April Fools Day

The snow is nearly gone and the gardens are almost clear. Our onions are getting antsy--long tops need a haircut! Yesterday, I noticed the tulips and daffodils peeking up through the leaf litter. And down by the stream, the skunk cabbage spathes have appeared.
We're in for some April showers this week. I just hope the water doesn't come into the basement.

Whirring Woodcocks and Snowdrops

The courting ritual has begun. For the last two nights, we stood outside listening to the woodcocks rising up into the evening sky, whirring and chirping, dancing in the waning light. Their aerial display is something to see--if you can see it. I could just make out the silhouette of one as he dropped back down into the woods.

Yesterday, I heard a Carolina wren singing, and the snow drops have appeared. Yup, spring is here!

Call of the Woodcock

As John and I boiled sap on Sunday night, I suddenly gasped, "Did you hear that?"
Up in the woods, an American Woodcock was giving his raspy "bzzzt" call, staking out his territory. We didn't hear the musical whirring wings of the aerial display, but I think he may be the proverbial early bird, out looking for his soul mate in the snowbanks.

Last Gasp for Big Bertha

Well I made the call. My poor old maple, damaged last summer, is coming down next week. So we've tapped the bejeezus out of her, and hope to get the sweetest syrup before she comes down. We'll have hours of warmth from her in the next couple of years, but I'll miss her wide spreading shady arms this summer. The woodpeckers, chipmunks, great crested flycatchers, titmice, squirrels, chickadees, nuthatches, bluejays, and warblers will miss her too--no homes, no perches, and no bugs. But I'll replace her with another just as sweet--another sugar maple.

Sugaring Time Is Here!

It's one of the rites of spring, hanging the sap buckets and boiling in the garage. I get home from work and spend my evening sitting by the propane cooker, skimming the sap, waiting for the water to evaporate. Usually I take along a good book to keep me company. As the steam swirls around my head in a sweet fug, I stir the sap and read. The chilly damp air makes me hug the cooker, warming myself by the burner.

Last year, we tapped four trees and got approximately one gallon. This year, John's tapped seven trees, including Big Bertha, our aging maple that needs to come down this spring. She's giving us the last hurrah.

Dog Sense

Ok, who has more sense in this picture? The dog draped over my lap, or me for using Callie Lou as a lap rug? Note the title of the book.

Callie Goes Cross-Country Skiing

It's obvious Callie has never skied with anyone. Poles are to chase and heeding my commands go right out the window. But she did enjoy all the scents in the air. Tracking deer, coyote, other dogs, my bleeding hand (that's another story)--Callie Lou learned that staying well behind or well ahead of cross country skiers is imperative.

This was Callie's second time skiing off lead, so we headed to Wild Iris for the solitude offered in the quiet woods. Not long after we started, I had to switch to a warmer wax, and in the process, gashed my thumb which gushed blood. Of course, I'd forgotten a first aid kit, or even a bandanna to staunch the flow.

We skied for over an hour, meeting up with one other person (a 4-wheeler hunting coyotes with his dogs-grrrr). I decided it was a good turn around point and left hunter and dogs in the distance. Were the deer or coyotes watching us from the rocky ledges overhead?