Monsoon season

I can't accurately describe, or apparently, capture on camera, the performance art of green going on outside my windows these days, thanks no doubt to the endless, drenched gray skies.  If the light weren't so perfect and clear at times, I would probably be gloomily moping around the house, but as it is, I find myself drawn to the door and eventually outside to projects made ridiculous by the dripping weather.  This morning, my neon grass defies verbal description:

 And then there are the flowers--all the blossoms so heavy with rain today:

Geranium...

...poppies...

...columbine...

(and again, can't help it--what a sweet face.)

Even last fall's collard greens get in on the action.

Spring has arrived in force, and I like to take the camera and greet the early ones popping up who blaze the trail for summer. 

When we bought our house almost two years ago, we inherited some perennials in the front that had been a bit neglected and were beginning to unravel into wild tangles of black-eyed-susans (not so bad) and a firmly matted mass of ivy, vinca, and euonymous--three of the four horsemen, in my humble opinion.  [I tend to glare at them when we run into each other at nurseries misguided enough to sell the evil things.  You ever wonder how you appear to other people?  Yeah, let me tell you.  At least you don't make faces at groundcover plants.]

Anyway.  After some digging, seed starting, weeding, planting and deep mulching, the black-eyed susans are under (a bit more) control, we now have a rain garden that relieves the two downspouts from our stoop, the big lovely pine that shelters us to the NW is no longer strangled by ivy, and I have the beginnings of a nice herb & native plant garden tucked in throughout the perennials.





Bought myself presents at a few nurseries yesterday and now have some delightfully fragrant planting to do:  peppermint, chocolate mint, variegated nasturtiums, valerian, eucalyptus, lemon balm, bronze fennel, and rue.  I mean, come on--don't you want to crush some of those leaves in your fingers?  This is one of my decadent extravagances in the spring each year--a treat of splurging on herbs and flowers.  I may lose the battle with weeds in the worst of the heat, but I am a consummate gardener in the spring.

Smells the best when it rains--no wonder I came home with so many.

The rest of the yard is busy with all sorts of flirtation and nest building.  Jason has placed a few birdhouses around the place, and now there is a hard-working and territorial wren standing sentinel in our Japanese maple, all the while tucking sticks and straw into place in the perky blue house.  Since male wrens flex their nest-building skills as part of their courtship, creating several for their lady-loves to examine and approve, I can only hope that this guy's little sweetheart finds the blue to her liking and they stay to raise a family....

In the running...

Not sure anyone has discovered this one yet.

 And, happily, the hummingbirds are back!  Perhaps this summer I will finally get a passable pic of one of these tiny, fearless, glimmering birds--in the meantime, the feeders are out and filled with sugar water--and little whizzing wings signal each approach if you listen...

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In more homesteady-news, I built a nest box yesterday for the girls' outside pen so that I can contain them there without causing an egg-laying emergency.  The last time I tried to shut them up for most of the afternoon, Betty was running back and forth in distress by the time I came out to check on them...and then made a beeline for the nest box in their coop as soon as I let her out.  Far be it from me to keep a girl from a nice dark spot to lay an egg!

SO.  This isn't the most elegant structure ever, but I had several handicaps: 

First, I realized that my stupid drill was in the back of our new truck--which is at a mechanic buddy's getting a new timing belt.  So, nails or hand-screwing.  Fabulous.

Second, my supply of wood is dwindling and no truck to go pick up more. 

Third, it has been raining for years.  Years, I tell you.  Nothing is really dry (wood) or will ever dry (caulk).

 
Of course, rather than giving up and finding something to do inside the house, I persevered...

 

The tarp may not be pretty, but everything is snug

Since the drizzle just won't seem to quit, I have been seduced this morning by baking--warm ovens, warmer smells--another batch of bagels.  I think Jason & I are both a little sick of bread (it is time to be eating crisp, light, crunchy things, after all) and bagels are a nice diversion; a Goldilocks sort of just enough bread and not too much.  This one was still warm from the oven...not to rub it in or anything :)

And now the sun is out--surely there is something else I can find to do outside!

Blog, what blog? It's spring outside!

Bare feet and violets...ah, Spring!

Well, hello there, faithful readers.  I have not been giving you the attention you deserve lately, and I'm sorry.  One of the many things I forget from one year to the next is how quickly it changes from mind-numbingly s-l-o-w-paced winter to "I'm panicking over my to-do list" spring!  Here's a quick update on what's going on at the homestead:

1.  SCHOOL SQUARED!  I leave this Thursday (ack, tomorrow) for St. Mary-of-the-Woods to present my final project for my master's program.  The project, as mentioned before, is a school garden and accompanying curriculum on urban sustainability.  I've been remembering how to use Power Point (ha!  thank you, ProStaff circa 1999) and preparing my presentation, as well as working through the obligatory organizational start-up period with the other folks on the school garden committee--you know, figuring out what supplies are needed, what fundraising we need to do, grants we should apply for, and also planning a garden kick-off party for Earth Day (4/22).

I really enjoy the connections I've found between the homesteading concepts that I've personally explored this year (and continue to explore) and the garden ecology concepts I want to include in lessons with the kids.  Here is what we will study:  Sun, Water, Soil, Plants,  and Birds & Bugs.  For each of these garden entities, I've been developing lessons and activities for the little ones that help to inspire good questions and ideas about how we live our human lives in relation to Nature.  What better way to talk about solar energy than by making a jug of sun tea from the lemon balm we are growing?  Or, even more magical, using a solar oven to make a snack of chips (kale chips, that is, with kale leaves from the garden, olive oil, salt & pepper?)  And what about putting on a play depicting what happens to the Good Bugs and the Bad Bugs when you spray a pesticide?  (If you are curious, read this about the Volterra Principle, one of those mathematical and ecological truths that Monsanto would prefer you ignore).

2.  Garden!  Girls!  Keeping ye old homestead a'runnin!  We've had to make some changes in the backyard, now that the wheel has turned:  the girls are grown and the garden is back to babyhood.  The chickens no longer get free access to the garden--at least until summer, when the plants are well established.  So, we have a temporary fence around the garden, and the girls are a bit miffed, primarily when I am working in the beds and they can't come "help."  Ramona, in particular, being the shameless beggar of the flock, has been sidling along the fencing, murmuring little coo's and peeps and giving me, as Jason would say, the stink-eye.  If she had visible eyelashes, she would bat them.  Good grief.

Safe, for now, from the hungry girls

The garden is already a fun, green place to be, thanks to the coldframe that I made last fall.  This is my first real attempt at extending the season, and it is very gratifying to have produce already flourishing!  We can now be gleaning from four collard plants, several clumps of spinach, some scallions, cilantro, and our favorite heirloom lettuce from last season, called "Forellenschuss."  I moved the coldframe down the row, and have planted some cold-friendly varieties in it, so that the frame can act as a safe, warm nursery for the next month while the seeds sprout and get established--broccoli, alpine strawberries, parsley, brussel sprouts, and two types of kale.

Forellenschuss, cabbage, spinach and scallions

The asparagus is also up and thriving...one more year and we will get to start harvesting from the plants, but for now we let them all grow and allow the roots to get nicely established so that the bed will be productive for decades.  It is hard, though, to resist....




In other fowl news, the chickens are slacking off in their duties!  Ever since we have switched to letting them roam the yard for most of the day, I have been getting fewer eggs.  I think there are several factors at work in the ladies' lives that are contributing to our dwindling egg supply, the first and biggest being that I acquired these little lives in the Fall, rather than the Spring, which is just not quite fair or in-step with the natural order of things.  I am hoping that their little hormonal systems even out a bit as light and warmth return.

Of course, the other potential factors here are that the girls are

A) now confused about where the nest box is, even though it has remained in the same spot

and B) they are probably hiding their eggs somewhere in the yard.  The other possibility (and my favorite, although it is a bit more crude) is that 

 C) they are simply being lazy.  I call them, fondly, Lazy Sluts.

Lazy ladies lounging in a sunny dust bath

 {Ahem.  While I am a huge proponent of choosing your words carefully, using inclusive language and making a practice of being as PC as possible in the larger world, I reserve the right to abandon my PC ways when I am nick-naming backyard poultry.}

SO.   Lazy Sluts or Fat Biddies.  These are my terms of endearment for the chickie-gals lately.  As we were all getting accustomed to having free-range of the backyard, I had been leaving the (human) garage door open as another potential escape route for the girls, in case of a hawk fly-by.  However, the girls decided this was their new awesome clubhouse and started oh-so-casually hanging out over in one corner, behind some bikes and the lawn mower.  You would walk in, and everyone would shut up and freeze.  I was reminded, forcibly, of teenaged girls sneaking cigarettes in the alley and gossiping about boy--except that these girls leave behind feathers and poop (and who knows, maybe hidden eggs), rather than ashes and butts. 

Not happening.  No more garage access.  So now, they just tear across the yard every time I go to that door, hoping--apparently--that I will forget to close it.

And did I mention that Roxie is molting?  Twelve months earlier than expected?  No pretty blue eggs from her until her little body can turn its attention from feather-making back to egg-producing.  And in the meantime she looks like a balding middle aged person going through a midlife crisis.  Not pretty.

(Hmmm.  Balding Lazy Slut.)

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Hooo-kay.  Hmm.  I think the stress of school has finally damaged my brain.  I was going to continue on and share our dreams and plans for constructing a greenhouse later this spring, but at this rate, I'll be swearing and raving by the time I'm done.   Perhaps it is best to wait until next time.  :)  So let me send you off with a pic of my latest yarn splurge:  cotton, cotton, cotton.  It is time for my green/red/brown kitchen to get accessorized.... 

Making hay while the sun shines....

Buckwheat, shortly after sprouting

One of the unexpected lessons of my garden this summer has been the ins & outs of a funny little tri-cornered grain called buckwheat.  Those of us who like our breakfast foods fried on a griddle probably know of buckwheat pancakes, while the organic gardeners amongst us know of buckwheat as a quick cover crop which excels in loosening poor soil, crowding out weeds, and making nutrients available for future plants.  I planted a row in the garden last spring when I just couldn't face the idea of digging and working one more inch of ground in preparation for more finicky vegetable plants.  I planned (operative word) to follow directions and cut it down before it went to seed, then plant warmer weather stuff in its place.

A flowering jungle of buckwheat and bees.

If you are convinced that you have a black thumb...plant some buckwheat.  No, really.  It should be a poster-child for instant-gratification-gardening.  The seeds sprout within days, and the plants zip through their entire lifecycle (seed to seed) in 6 weeks.  (Attention chicken owners:  the girls are enormous fans of the sprouts!)  The white flowers aren't big or exceptionally pretty--but the pollinators adore them, and your garden will thank you.  If the soil-prep and pollination help aren't enough to convince you, there is one more gift from the buckwheat plant:  you get hay out of the deal in the end, if you'd like!

I would love to claim that I planned from the beginning to plant buckwheat and harvest the hay for winter bedding for my flock, but when I planted that original row, I had no idea that I would be unemployed & a chicken-wrangler by the end of the summer.  Rather then pulling the buckwheat and using that bed for veggies, I let the plants self-sow freely (due to lazy gardening, primarily, although this was easily rationalized as I watched the bees happily humming among the flowers).  Much to my surprise, this accidental crop will save me at least a few dollars in purchased litter for the girls and allows me--albeit in a small way--to close my homesteading loop just a little more.  One more way to provide for our needs without leaving home!  Hurray!

Drying the hay

While the plants pull up easily, I quickly found that cutting them off at the ground eliminates getting a bunch of dirt mixed in with the plant material--and leaves a little of the goodness to decompose back into the soil.  I piled up the buckwheat on a tarp to dry, occasionally taking my garden rake and flipping it over to expose it all to the sun.  And then, I got an old plastic tub and some garden twine and made a bale!  I positioned two pieces of twine across the width of the tub and one across the length, anchoring the ends underneath the tub to hold the twine in place.  Then I compressed as much of the hay as I could into a roughly rectangular bundle, dumped it in the tub, and stepped on top to crush it.  I repeated this until the tramped-down-hay reached the top of the tub, tied the twine tightly, and lifted out the bale (with a great deal of pride!)

Who knew this was so easy?

I ended up with two bales roughly 3'x1.5'x1.5'--and if I had been focused on cutting the hay every six weeks all summer, I am sure I could have easily tripled that amount on a 4'x18'  garden row, if not much more...another thing to track and measure next year!  In the meantime, I have a cheap & easy source of fresh green appetizers for the chickies all winter--now that I know how easily buckwheat sprouts.  Maybe next summer I'll try to harvest some of the grain and we'll have those buckwheat pancakes after all....