Archive for April 2020
New Garden
Sunday afternoon launched our effort to create a new produce garden at Wintervale on the slope at the end of the driveway.
We plan to use old reclaimed wooden fence posts for a retaining wall that will create a terrace for a flat garden plot. There is space below it to add a second level farther downslope but we are going to start small. If all goes well, next year we can expand.
After my first challenge of devising a way to connect and secure all the posts, the more complicated next step involves installation of barriers to the local wildlife who are known garden pests. Cyndie wants me to bury hardware cloth to block burrowing critters. Great idea, in theory. A hassle to accomplish in reality.
I’m recommending Cyndie put in a giant hasta spread nearby to offer deer a more enticing alternative to leaping over the fence I plan to build. Then I can make that barrier primarily designed with rabbits in mind.
Cyndie got right to work breaking up the turf and confirming how much of our soil is clay. There will be a fair effort to doctor the soil toward maximizing the plant growth potential. Of course, there is a handy resource of composted manure available a short distance away, but she is talking about also adding some sand, too.
I’m just the muscle on this project. I’ll leave those decisions up to her for now.
Before calling it a day and heading in to shower, I snuck down to hook up the come-along winch to the pine tree stump to see if it would stand up straight.
Close enough for my purposes, of which I currently have none. Just seemed like something to do. I have a high suspicion it will tip again at the first trigger of high wind or excess moisture since the roots have all been thusly stressed and held for months in that previous lean.
That fact has me hesitant to plot any significant artistic endeavor for the stump until it has had time to settle in the upright position.
It is located beside Cyndie’s perennial garden, so carving it into a gnome seems like a great idea. Unfortunately, I don’t have any plan to learn how to carve a gnome out of a tree stump, so that most likely won’t happen.
If it stays standing for a year or so, I’ll have had plenty of time for inspiration to strike.
I’ll likely be busy fixing garden fencing in the meantime.
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Slow Progress
Yesterday, despite mighty intentions to tackle many tasks, I lowered my expectations to match my level of energy. To start, I decided to complete the prior day’s effort to shape up the old manure compost area. The chickens were thrilled to see me.
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It was low-hanging fruit, so to speak.
I had intended to do some chainsaw tasks that I’ve been saving for when I wasn’t home alone, but a power tool with a sharp blade was more than I wanted to be managing this day. In fact, the leaning pine tree stump I was going to trim back suddenly offered an alternative solution of being pushed back upright with a hydraulic jack.
Some spur-of-the-moment ideas don’t always pan out. The extra effort toward that side-project was only successful in avoiding doing something else. I think it is going to take the come-along winch to ultimately accomplish that task, but we decided to save it for another time.
From there, we headed across the field to try digging in the footbridge. That was another project which morphed into an adaptation somewhere between the ideal I had in my mind and the reality of what could be easily accomplished in a short amount of time with tools we could carry.
It ended up a perfect example of “good enough.”
That is a pretty good description of my whole day yesterday. It is something for which I have no complaints.
Slow progress is better than no progress at all.
Still healthy, 97.2°, and happily sheltering at home for the weekend with an amazing chef and companion. No complaints whatsoever, indeed.
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Digging Projects
Since much of my yesterday was spent tethered to the day-job email account I didn’t dig into any large outdoor projects, but I did get a chance to do a little digging. There are remains of two old manure piles that have essentially been flattened by chicken activity that I have wanted to toss together into one big pile. When I start turning dirt, chickens come running to take advantage of the opportunity for their worming purposes, so it needed to be a project that didn’t involve the presence of a certain canine.
Now that Cyndie is home to entertain Delilah, I nabbed my chance to revisit my old days of turning composting manure piles, much to the chicken’s delight.
The three breeds have distinctly noticeable differences in behaviors. The two Australorps are impressively bold about getting as close as possible to my every pitchfork turn, eager to get first-dibs, accepting my tapping them out of the way so I have room to take the next scoop. The yellow Buff Orpingtons recognize the advantage the black Australorps have and try to emulate them, but they aren’t as confident about getting so close to the business end of my pitchfork and spend most of their time in retreat.
The Wyandottes have always been the more timid of the three, and have figured out there are plenty of worms to be found in the scoopfuls getting tossed onto the new pile, so they spend their energy on the back end of the process.
The constant presence of the hens is both entertaining and annoying. I could do the job twice as fast if they weren’t so in the way, but it wouldn’t be near as much fun.
After I had tired of the exertion, I stepped back to just stand and watch them. In no time, I found myself surrounded by the flock as if they wanted to come thank me for the treats I had unearthed for them.
Today, there is more digging in store. I want to dig in the new footbridge so the ends are at ground level to accommodate the primary purpose of being able to drive the lawn tractor across the ravine with ease.
After that, a much larger dig is awaiting up by the house. Cyndie wants to plant a produce garden on a slope that will require terracing. I thought I was just going to be putting in some short retaining walls but the project now threatens to involve critter proofing with buried hardware cloth and perimeter fencing.
I fear the possibility of more digging than I’m interested in, but I expect visions of a future with home-grown produce might help me to overcome that lack of interest. Plus, such a garden will provide a place to use all that composted soil I’ve been piling up.
Can you dig that?
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Mamma Returns
One explanation I have heard for a dog’s overzealous greetings when their masters return from time away is that the absence was interpreted as a death. I believe that theory was based on an interpretation of wolf pack behavior. When a wolf disappeared from the pack, it was generally due to death. The survivors don’t expect to ever see that missing member again.
If that missing wolf does reappear, it’s a miracle! No wonder they would get excited.
As far as Delilah was concerned last night, the mamma who has doted on her for most of her life returned from the dead.
I was careful not to utter the highly recognizable sound of “mamma” to our dog until I saw Cyndie’s car coming up the driveway. I made that mistake one other time when Cyndie wasn’t going to be home for days and Delilah walked over toward the door to the garage and stared at it for so long I began to feel awful.
There was a blur of spinning and some squeaky sounds and a whole lotta love.
“She’s alive!”
My resourceful wife beat me to the punch and ordered her own favorite Gina Maria’s pizza on her drive home from the airport, and since it wasn’t ready when she arrived, took advantage of that time to go grocery shopping.
Gone for over a month, and she walks in the door with dinner and groceries.
Sheltering at home just got a lot less lonely for me.
Welcome home, Cyndie. Welcome home.
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Sell By
I’m pretty sure my neglect of concern for food “sell by” dates on packaging borders on unhealthy. Last night I learned a lesson the hard way. In the four weeks that Cyndie has been in Florida with her parents, I have successfully avoided buying any new food. Admittedly, as time passed, the amount of fresh fruit and vegetables in my diet has dwindled, lately replaced by delicacies discovered in the freezer.
There are only a few clementines left in the fruit drawer in the fridge. It’s getting down to slim pickings.
With Cyndie due to fly home today, I’m claiming victory in the quest for survival on my own during her absence.
Really, yesterday’s brush with death was the only calamity worth mentioning throughout the ordeal of sheltering at home alone, and it was one of the most innocuous things you’d probably ever worry about.
With cereals and crackers, I’ve encountered plenty of stale product in my lifetime. When chips go limp during the humid season, I sneer at the people who don’t seal a bag properly. I’ve been known to continue to snack on tortilla chips noticing each bite offers a telltale hint they are on the verge of not worth it.
Desperate cravings will stoop to embarrassing levels when there are no unopened packages in reserve.
Over the previous weekend, I used up the last opened package of saltine crackers with some chicken chili soup I found in the freezer, but I didn’t use up the soup. Last night, I heated up the rest of the soup and rearranged things in the cracker cupboard to find an unopened 4-pack of Zesta saltine crackers nestled in the very back corner behind everything else.
“Huzzah!”
Saltine crackers with soup harkens back to many very fond early childhood memories of comfort food for me. It’s an affection that has never disappeared. I excitedly opened one of the four tall columns of crackers and before even sitting down, spooned some good stuff from the soup on a cracker for a quick appetizer bite before finishing to prepare the rest of my meal.
The cracker wasn’t stale. It was downright rancid! It was awful. I should have smelled it coming. I certainly did afterward. They smelled like that disgusting bite tasted.
I quickly took a taste of the soup to confirm it was just the cracker that was bad, and to wash my tastebuds of the nastiness they had just experienced. The soup was still good.
I went back to the box and looked for a date.
Oops. “Sell by May 2018.”
Lesson learned.
By the way, Stacy’s Simply Naked Pita Chips make for a great combination with chicken chili soup if you don’t have any saltines available.
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Clean Driveway
One of the really great features of a spring snowstorm is when the snow melts on the driveway as fast as it falls. When Delilah and I set out on our first walk after I got home from work yesterday, there was no snow falling. After circling the majority of our acres, I parked her in the barn while I tended to chores at the chicken coop.
While I was down with a couple of egg-laying hens, the sky opened up and poured out a downburst of snow. It quickly became a mini-blizzard with little spinning snow-tornadoes that made my trek back to the barn into a heroic expedition. From the barn, Delilah and I hustled our way up to the protection of the house and turned our focus toward each of our respective dinners.
The next time I looked out the window, the cloudburst had ended. It went from everything to nothing in about ten minutes time.
But it wasn’t done yet.
Before dinner was over, flakes started flying again. This time, it lasted much longer. So long, in fact, I started to wonder if I was going to need to shovel. Delilah started getting antsy to make her obligatory after-dinner outing, but I kept delaying her in hope of waiting long enough for the snow to stop falling.
Not only did my plan succeed, but we were subsequently gifted with an outbreak of sunshine! The icing on the cake of this whole mini-drama was stepping out to the sight of a clean driveway. It was downright photogenic.
Take that, winter snowstorms…
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Wing Wave
Well, the woods look a lot different now than they did on Saturday.
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It is mind-boggling how much things can change in one day. It is such a dramatic difference to go from walking our trails on a warm, sunny day to tromping through deep snow the next.
Yesterday, while describing my landscaping adventures, I forgot to mention the total highlight of the day Saturday. I was toiling away placing some bales along the property line when a small plane approached and made a banked turn. I pay attention when small planes show up because I know a number of pilots whom I always hope will visit when they’re in the area.
When the plane continued the loop and came around again, my confidence jumped that it could be one of my friends in high places. I was in a tangle of trees at that moment and chose to make a break for the most open space nearby, which turned out to be my neighbor’s field.
I looked up into the sun in hopes my sunglasses might reflect my presence and waved my arms. The plane rocked its wings in response.
It’s such a thrill to receive that acknowledgment. At the time, I still wasn’t clear who it was, but I was confident it was someone I knew.
Then my phone registered a message. It was from Mike Wilkus.
“There is a man outstanding in his field. Or at least the neighbor’s field.”
He sent me some wonderful photos.
From the road at the bottom of the picture you see our driveway climb beside the big hay-field and turn at the hay-shed and barn, rise past the shop garage to the house at top. The paddocks and round pen are clearly visible, as is the labyrinth tucked in trees above the upper pasture that was also cut for hay last year.
And zooming in for a closer view, in the neighbor’s field there is a guy waving.
Thanks, Mike!
That view would sure look a lot different today with all this snow we received.
We had about 8 inches by the time I went to bed last night. I wonder how long it will take to turn it all into water that will keep us in the mud season for an additional week or two.
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Repurposing Decay
Old, moldy hay bales and piles of downed tree limbs make for excellent raw materials to build a natural barrier along our property line. As I’ve written before, it is one of my favorite dual accomplishments to clean up and declutter while also creating something functional out of the otherwise unwanted items.
This morning, the snowflakes are flying, right on the predicted schedule, in stark contrast with the surprisingly pleasant warmth and calm of yesterday afternoon. My thermometer showed 64°(F) late in the day yesterday. This morning it is 30-degrees colder.
Taking full advantage of the nice weather while I had the chance, I finished getting rid of all but two of the old bales from our hay-shed and moved them into position along our property border.
Those bales have served as the base layer on pallets for several years, taking the bulk of the ground moisture in the protection of the many stacks of bales piled on top of them. In that time, the twine holding the bales tends to break down, making it an unpleasant adventure trying to move them.
I spent many extra minutes tying added twine to hold the moldy bales together just long enough to relocate them to my growing natural berm. Interestingly, this was the only time on our property since the COVID-19 outbreak that I have needed to wear a mask over my nose and mouth. I would hate to get seriously ill from breathing mold when lung treatments are all focused on keeping coronavirus patients alive.
The branches from the large pine tree that tipped over during the winter made for excellent added structure, upstream to the bales, allowing me to get rid of the pile we temporarily stowed beside the driveway that snowy day when I had to cut up the tree so I could plow.
I’m finding it a great inspiration that I can use branches to develop a natural fence of growth sprouting over and through the tangled skeleton of dead trees that are so plentiful in our woods.
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There is a never-ending flow of tree trunks and limbs transitioning from having reached for the sky to laying on the earth. One season, Cyndie and I worked to pick up all the dead wood and drag it out to be chipped or burned. Months later, when it looked like there was already an equal amount of new dead limbs on the ground replacing what we’d cleared, we realized how much actually falls. It was beyond us to keep up.
Now that I see the wood can be simply moved to the barrier I’m building –instead of needing the added work of chipping it every time or sawing it up to be split and burned– there is a better chance we can develop a tidier forest. At the same time, we gain much-needed material to improve the development of our natural barrier.
It’s a win-win!
Just my kind of favorable outcome.
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Snow Coming
I’m usually grateful to have advanced notice of coming weather, but sometimes I don’t like knowing we are about to receive large amounts of heavy, wet snow in April.
The snow is predicted to come in a narrow band, so it could shift a little, but we are located perilously close to the highest risk of seeing 6 or more inches of snowfall. Look to the right of the letter “e” in the word Moderate, just above Red Wing. Oh, joy.
I spent yesterday tinkering with the slowly developing berm we are constructing at the edge of our property where the neighboring cultivated farm field drains onto our land. It’s been 2-and-a-half years since we installed the latest version of erosion fencing and much of that has filled with so much topsoil the fabric is laying almost flat in some places.
Granted, the following photos were taken at different seasons, late summer vs. early spring, but the difference is rather striking.
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The bales obviously disintegrate. Progress that may not be evident can be found in the number of volunteer plants that have taken root and naturally help to hold soil in place. The thing is, though, that helps to hold our soil from eroding, but we still get large flows of the neighbor’s topsoil washing over our property.
If I can get the berm established enough to pool his runoff, it will serve as a natural replacement for the Polypropylene fabric and, most important to my sensibilities, be a less unsightly barrier.
I have found the use of gnarly dead branches that are too big for my chipper makes for great starter material in establishing a natural barrier. The highly fertilized runoff tends to fuel thick growth of tall grasses that ultimately create a tangled wall of live plants weaving through dead wood.
Looks like I’ll have a fresh opportunity Monday to see how my latest upgrade to the barrier yesterday will impact the drainage of many inches of melting snow.
Wouldn’t you know it, I changed the tires on the ATV yesterday to swap out the aggressive treaded winter tires for plowing snow, with the smoother treads of summer tires that are kinder to our land.
I could be in for a complex day tomorrow of clearing heavy, wet snow that will be a big problem for a day or two, and then melt. Then we can get on with spring, which is on the verge of swiftly getting sprung.
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Relative Something 