that eternal bubbling

A heavy crop of snow.
Once again the blog is the last thing on my mind, but I do want you to know that as I wander and work, my camera is always with me.  I capture this and that with the good intention of turning it into a blog post.  For instance, this pic is from my walk on Saturday morning- after Mother Nature thought it would be cute to dump 14 inches of snow on us as an April Fool's joke.  This poor little guy wasn't laughing-

A mighty little force of nature.

He was on my trail, in a rut as deep as a railroad tie- how something so fragile, so tiny could survive a snow storm in Maine and remain intact is another great mystery I hope I never solve.  I picked him up quite gingerly, my heart sank as I figured he was as good as dead- but apparently the warmth of my hand was all he needed to revive.  I placed him inside my coat and turned around early from my walk- I needed to get this little fellow into my warm seed shack until Spring really came for him.  Just as I rounded the bend on the lane, up and out he fluttered- to an old dead Birch tree near my mailbox- maybe the loosened bark on that tree would serve a cocoon like purpose.  It still amazed me, the whole small experience of finding a butterfly in April in Maine in a foot of snow....

Raised beds in the hoop house- snow bank outside.

And those seeds started in the seed shack in March in Maine are now doing quite well.  We have 31 flats started and are fixing to start about 20 more if I can make more room.  The Asian greens are already to be put into a colder climate as well as some turnips I started- I know, I know but I can't help my self.  I'm a Midwesterner by birth and now is the time to plant this stuff!  Last year at a market I sell at, some folks thought I was a witch or something- bringing greens and radishes to fruit too early for mere mortals- nah, I just don't know any better.   What's a little snow or frost- that's what they make plastic blankets and straw for.                                                                                                                                                           

I haven't had the best of luck recently- on a beautiful perfect day I wrecked my truck.  Blueberry pie went flying, accelerator had a mind of it's own and frost heaves in the road set it all in motion.  I hurt my pride and my shoulder but all else worked out.  Although- take this to heart and heed it from someone who wished they had.- 

If you get a recall on your vehicle- do as it says.  I just received mine in the mail two days prior to the accident- it encouraged me to remove the floor mat- this encouragement I did not read until after the wreck.  If only...

Well, that's just about it in a nutshell- seeds are started, more work to do there.  Snow is covering this lovely land but surely will recede soon when the temps hit the 50 mark, as they are rumored to do come midweek.

Guineas do not like the white stuff.

I hope your Spring is bringing that eternal bubbling about in your veins, may you feel looser, may you be free to wander and wonder at the small things bursting through the earth just at your feet.  Something in that tiny stem excavates a person's soul from the deep, cold trenches of winter- the thaw begins as light reaches in and all is made anew once more.  

Take care-

The Little Starts

Follow effective action with quiet reflection. From the quiet reflection will come even more effective action. --James Levin

~Garden Stakes~

The Big Fish and I have been busy...

We have recently collaborated in our slow-dance-two-step-honky-tonk-bluesy-sway way, and built a seed shack.
  I am the frugal farmer and  he- the techno toy boy;  you don't have to spend money if you take the time to innovate and expand an idea with materials at hand versus install fans, run electricity and make sure it's all on the level.
So- we take the best of both worlds, lay it out and intertwine a design that is efficient, cheap, and maybe a little bit crazy though mostly- sustainable.

Hoop house, seed shack, new kitchen in the works...I don't ask for these things.  He simply listens.  I talk too much at times...(dreaming out loud) and he listens equally as much- somehow, we have become quite in tune with one another,  I am spoiled now too.  Not like a bad egg but like a good pile of compost- broke down in such a way that deep in the center there seems to be something remarkable and useful in keeping our union quite fertile.  He finds me amazing at times, the feeling is mutual...is there any other joy that matches the art of a relationship that is both reciprocal and amazing?!

I come from a place way back when, where dreams were kept stifled and still.  Now I dance.  In the seed shack.  The Big quiet Fish smiles shyly and eventually gets up from his listening post- and we waltz, forgetful of the crooked, potholed roads we both have traveled, of world hunger and sadness- amnesia sets in and there we twirl in the center of the universe.

~Sweet Guy~

The seeds we plant may not make up for quakes, for seas sweeping in and taking more than is humanly bearable, but the little starts- the first true leaves of a new tiny creation here, seems a solid investment for a hopeful future.

 I cannot control the climate in the universe- but I can somewhat right here, right now- control the garden given me to tend.

Pocket Knife Seeding Method

Seeds of life and seeds of dreams- at least, it is something more than a chance or twist or a quake- it is a choice made daily to grow flowers and fruit; to hold up my end and if need be, take up the slack where so many who suffer through no fault of their own- have lost their grip.


Take care-

flustered here on the farm last night

In a few days, I'll be railing across America.  Well, half way...from Boston to Chicago and then on down to more central points in a state that is known for it's half dead politicians and dead voters who vote often enough...
I must admit, I am terrified of those large cities- I find little of myself in concrete places, just not my element.  What I do find are stories and the people behind them, folks I would have never met had I not gone to the outer limits of my huge comfort/freedom zone.  I would be deeply remiss if I did not admit that by traipsing off into what seems from the wild wilderness- dangerous territories, I often do find such goodness and kindness- frequently in every person I meet.  I do.  Truly.  Not just friendly bumps and sharing spaces, often enough- we stay in touch, we email and aaaarrrggghhhhh... Facebook, apt name.  Faces, yes- (surface dwelling) but at least, it is a somewhat common connection picture posting world.  But it's a fast connect- a virtual flash.  Not much for memory storage...which for this truewonder, is like eating pie and never knowing what the flavor of the filling is because it gets left out.  A light snack for this voracious eater just leaves me hungrier...


On with the story then!  Oh yes, that's what you come here for- the story.  I've got one...it's wondrous.  It has to do with Mystery Guests and artificial shelters.  Intriguing, no?!  How about screams in the darkness, fumbling for boots that should be burned, feathers flying and stars penetrating a fertile darkness?  Weapons and shovels, ice and mittens?  Do tell you say?!  Well, since you insist...


I read the book, I loved the book, I read the critiques of those who read the book and loved the book but not so much the movie.  I liked the movie.  I loved the actress and the man she fell in love with, well- who wouldn't?
The author of said book is a real gem and I'll always follow her because she's brilliant.  But the book and the movie and the love parts that left more to the imagination than seeing boobs and never.. well- you know whats...they don't show those near enough in my way of thinking.  Goodness sake, there's enough of 'em hanging around- what's the harm if one should be exposed like the booby flashing?  Same difference- body parts that get us flustered and blushing...well, I do get red in the cheeks and I look around sheepishly to see if anyone else is happily embarrassed by nudity.  There I go again, off the subject...little trips I like to take you on, just to see if you're paying attention...


I was watching the movie- Eat, Pray, Love.  Totally immersed, completely alone and still- no boobs, no one-eyed monsters and it didn't matter if I blushed or not and frankly, the imaginative way the romances went, well- I liked that opening into my own mind of what might have been going on behind those closed doors and pulled curtains.  Made myself blush... and then, speaking of monsters- I heard screaming.  The screen scene showed India so I just assumed for a moment it was a peacock in their garden, just off camera.  But then I began to hear Guinea fowl squawking, my head questioned- "Guineas in India?"  And my brain then reasoned, although it is seldom geographically correct-
"No, Guineas do not live there..."
I jumped up, turned the volume down and the Guineas and something else resumed screaming, ever louder- every second.  I stepped out onto the deck.  I hollered,(like before a few posts back)...
"Hey!  What's going on?! Hey, heyyyyyyyy!!!!!" 
It didn't stop the squawking commotion and I didn't like the eerie screams, the curdling kind- coming from the direction of the hoop-house, which is known in winter time as the HoopCoop.
Because I keep the chickens in there...didn't I never tell you that?  Sorry.  I do keep the poultry out there in a Florida-like room.  Since the owl attacks of last week, I've gotten the Guineas to go in too, of an evening.  At first it was like pulling teeth, but after two more of their members were beheaded- they all figured that the artificial clear cave might be better than being sitting ducks in a tall Spruce just next door.


The Big Fish was sleeping like a hibernating bear- chick flicks do that to him, I didn't want to rouse the bear...yet.  So I fumbled blindly in the dark for those damn boots, and that sweet Carhart coat and green  mittens but did not take the time- for time seemed to be of the essence...not for me so much, I tell you- I was a little afraid, wasn't sure what I might encounter out there, uh-hum...didn't take the time to grab a flashlight as the moon seemed ample to brighten up the yard.  Down the stairs I ran, collecting Gideon and Etta as I went- had to pull their teeth too, it was cold- they were warm and saw no need, voluntarily deaf to boot- to go outdoors after dark.


As I rounded the corner out the back door, I spied a shovel sticking out of the snow pile and grabbed it up and carried it over my head like a villager ready to take on Frankenstein.  Screaming, hollering- so just in case whatever was causing all the ruckus might be made just as scared as I was...helter-skelter I continued on.  In opening the HoopCoop door,  nervous soft cluck clucks and low, continuous whistles echoed amongst the Guineas- that is their way of saying to one another-
"The sky isn't falling yet so no worries, because I'll warn you and you'll warn me and we will scream loudly in unison when the time is right, agreed?!"


So to this talk I added,
"Babies, babies, chick, chick, chick, it's OK, it's OK...everybody here?" 
 Real low like- matching the quality of gentle cautious sounds...this always seems the best kind of communication when dealing with the Don Knotts of farm fowl, the every-ready-to-freak-out Guineas.


I looked up then to their roost and counted- they were all there.  I looked around on the ground beneath them for any sign of a weasel or raccoon.  Nothing.  I checked out the chickens in their hay bale home- they were all but snoring.  No nervousness there- the little black tenacious hen had every one calm and in order.  I looked up one more time- I wondered if the Guineas must have just been able to see a shadow flying overhead- perhaps the owl from nights before was searching still, from great hunger- a midnight snack. 


 I could see the sky as if there were no thin veil of a plastic partition between me and the stars.  All the condensation had melted during the bright sun day so there was nothing to frost or freeze causing an opaque screen usually, to look through.  I was satisfied then with the shadow theory, sweetly I whistled my calm goodwill and goodnight to all and I went back inside to finish my movie and warm fire.  Nary a nude scene left- still, I enjoyed the film to it's finish.  Off to sleep went I, dreaming of far away places and islands with four hundred parrots.


My morning chores began earlier than ever, I had to affirm that all was well and that no unknown carnage came to be while I dreamed of carnal pleasures...which incidentally, amounted to chocolate rocks that you could pick up and nibble- I kid you not, that was my dream symbol from last night.

  Eat+Pray+Love= Chocolate...makes sense to me.

Like the mysteries of nudity and love making scenes left to the imagination- I'll leave you with the same.  And...some glorious frost imprints and really quite amazing hints to go on of just who or what had every one flustered here on the farm last night.

A Surprise Barrier to Hungry Claws and Beating Wings

Close encounters of the winged kind.

A few rips and tears to be mended.


Well then, that should do it.  Happy Valentine's Day...I'll be back after my wandering ways have ended.  I hope this long story keeps you well and again, please- I do request- check back on my last post.  Do give a damn, it is as important as roots to a tree and seeds to a sunflower.
Take care-

Hoop-Dee-Do House

Good Spring morning where ever you are!  I had to give the Big Fish a ride to work this A.M, his Toyota being on the blink- and I was able to greet the sun properly.  It seems that buds are ready to burst, birds are building and filling nests and mosquitoes are out lusting for blood already.  No fear, I have a netted type of gear that is supposed to keep them at bay (when I mention this to a true Mainer, they just chuckle and say "wait and see").  In one months time I shall have Guineas on the place, they do keep the bug population down- but from the size of the mosquitoes I've seen, they may need a fork and knife or protective netted gear too.

The man has finished the green/hoophouse, I have christened it the "Hoop Dee Do House",  because every time I'm in it I wonder- why the heck wasn't I having this much fun before?  It is a marvelous device-and right in the ground whether it's rain or shining- seeds are planted, tomatoes are started and should it begin to sprinkle, the soft pelts of the raindrops on top of the plastic are downright mesmerizing- and the soily perfume smell is just plain heaven.
  The farm time clock is running, the numbers just drop away and a sense of flow begins.
  I do believe it is too early to be too hopeful about putting too much in the ground right now- but the hay bale gardens are full with lettuce and radishes, the mini cloche is full of weeds yes, but also chard, radishes and I forget.  Just wanted to get it established in March, so as to show the man that one can grow certain crops in cold weather with a minimum amount of protection.   Today, with this sunshine- my wearied back will get a work out as we have had all gardens tilled but still they need raked and cover crops planted and dill needs to get involved as does broccoli, more beets, more radishes, more lettuce, more arugala, onions, potatoes and soon, I'll be adding perennial horseradish and asparagus to the mix.  Two cherry trees are arriving Wednesday, can't live without my pie cherries...and the herb garden must be put in soon.

Oh!  The butterscotch birds will be here soon as well, Buff Orpingtons- my favorite chicks, hardy, happy built for cold weather poultry.   Now whether the Labs will prove to be better guard dogs of the flock than they were in Illinois remains to be seen...as so much here still remains to be seen.  I know hardly nothing of the foliage of the weeds, even the soil is completely different from what I'm use to- but, I'm willing to learn and every day finds me in the classroom that is my new home.

Take care-

Ruth Stout is my hero

Good morning. I'm thinking this day too much of gardening. I want to put my cloches up, those are like little mini hoop houses. They're easy to install- I just take welded wire, shape it into long caves, insert wire edges into ground and cover with visqueen or whatever random plastic that may be laying around. I'm very technical. Sometimes, before I put the metal "caves" down- I put down black paper or loads of hay, to keep the weeds out and the insects guessing. Mostly I use tons of hay, the Ruth Stout method...she had hay mulch down to an art. She wasted no energy fretting about weed invasion, nope! She'd just plunk a flake of hay on top of an emerging weed and simply walk away, whistling. She is my hero. Her books, if you can find them- are full of common sense and humor. I wished I could have met her- she seems like such a lovely woman, glad to be alive while poking good clean fun at the "experts". She was a sharp old dear, and didn't take any crap from anyone- unless it might help her garden grow. Then she'd just plunk it down, and yep...cover it with hay.
Yes, this day finds me yearning to begin the farming...but, it is cold and solid and frozen outside. Snow is on the ground again. I'd sure like to at least get in a cold frame(again, my technical example:) Take 4-8 bales of straw or hay, make a rectangle with them, make sure the earth within their frame is clean of debris and weeds. Now, go out to the corn crib- find an old storm window, wash it so the glass is clear, not so anciently dusty opaque...lay it atop those straw bales. Wait. In a few days, the sun will have efficiently heated the earth there, now- scatter some seeds like lettuce, arugula(my very favorite!), radish, kohlarabi, etc. Moisten the ground. Place window back over the bales. Come back tomorrow. Where there is no condensation, there is an air leak...pull out a handful of straw and stuff it right around the air leak. Do this for several days. After several days, condensation should take care of your watering needs. If it should snow, leave it atop there- that is a wonderful heat insulator. In 3 weeks +, eat some baby arugula or lettuce- enjoy the winter growth with a homemade vinagrette- remark to the children, "I grew this!" Watch their faces say-"So what!!" Shrug it off and enjoy the peppery arugala, be glad. (Though, vow to make the children sorry some day for not appreciating winter growings. Vow to take their children aside in confidence and share all the horrible growing up stories, shock their children, validate the feelings that their parents are crazy...make them see, that yes! Parents are a mess... rebel! You must rebel! (Grandma is sweet and always right...) and then send them home to their unsuspecting parents. That's my plan, my evil get back at them some day plan...)

 How do I know all of this? I don't. I just try it, see how cheaply, frugally, simply I can get by. Let the sun and the earth and all the elements do most of the work for me. The straw bales just end up as compost later, so it never matters if they get wet and boggy...just throw them on the heap or simply work them into the ground where they're sitting. I'm quite the lazy gardener. I'd rather get it planted and watch. Sit. Be amongst it. Take it all in, nibble or graze while I'm out there. AAhhhh, dreaming my farmer's dreams in February...seed catalogs will have to suffice for now, kind of like the pin up porno stuff of gardening. Stay warm. Take care-