~
Wednesday, May 31, 2006 8:30 a.m.
79 degrees, breezy, hazy sunshine
Yikes! Where has the month of May gone ? Doesn’t it
seem like only yesterday we were straining
our eyeballs to catch sight of the first robin? Even
though the calendar says it is still late spring,
yesterday
certainly felt like high summer to me. We were in a
frenzy of planting all morning long, trying to get all of
the
everything in the ground before rain moved in. A strong
line of thunderstorms moved up the valley just after
our late lunch, but we only received a few big splats of
rain in our neighborhood. Wide jagged lightning bolts
struck over and over again, following the broad lowlands
of the Black River; I wouldn’t be surprised to go
to Lyons Falls later today and find a huge smoldering
crater where the town used to be. I had to detour
around a barn fire on my way to work, a tragic total loss
from one lightning strike. There is a possibility
of random showers and thunderstorms,every day until
Sunday. High temperatures combined with ample
rain should give our summer crops an excellent start.
Wild strawberries have formed a carpet of snowy
white blossoms all over the meadows of Gomer Hill. With
enough rain, there should be plenty of berries
for everyone this summer, birds and beasts alike. Our
tame strawberries are in full bloom as well;
shouldn’t be long before cedar waxwings show up to
keep an eye on them as they ripen.
Have a berry nice day,
Daisy
~
Tuesday, May 30, 2006 7:30 a.m.
63 degrees, breezy, partly sunny
Big clouds are floating slowly across a pale blue sky and
the air is heavy with the promise of
more rain. Although it is not yet as stiflingly hot as
yesterday, it is just as humid, maybe more so.
A blast of fresh northern air blew the leaves outside my
window into a noisy uproar just before the
sky began to lighten up this morning, around 4:30. I
thought we were in for a storm then, but after five
minutes or so everything settled down again. Yesterday I
checked on all of our nesting boxes. One holds
six tree swallow eggs, another has two, and one nest sits
empty so far, but it looks like it may belong to a
bluebird, as there are no feathers lining the grassy cup.
Out of four bluebird eggs in another nest, three hatched
about a week ago. There were some blowfly eggs on the
floor of the box that had not yet hatched. The birds
are too little to be handled, so I cleared away as much
of the nest as I dared, swept the nasty larvae out of the
box, and placed some dry grass under the little guys.
Mama sat on a nearby branch the whole time and kept
her glittering eyes fixed on my task, and entered the box
as soon as I closed the door. While on my nest quest
I found one I hadn’t expected by our spring outlet.
A turkey hen waited until I was two feet away before ex-
ploding into the air with a thunderous whirr of deep
wingbeats. There are eleven large brown speckled eggs
in the neatly woven nest. I will have to remember to give
that area a wide berth for a few weeks as I
walk the paths. I believe the garden soil has dried out
enough for planting, so it’s off to work I go;
hi-ho, hi-ho !
Daisy
~
Monday, May 29, 2006 9:00 a.m.
71 degrees, windy, hazy sunshine
Strong northwest winds take the edge off of what will
surely be a humid day. Strong
thunderstorms with heavy downpours lit up our dreams off
and an all night long; the soil can’t
absorb one more drop of water so it hangs out in the air,
warm and moist like a big dog’s sigh.
The window of opportunity for getting our summer plants
into the ground has become very small,
as we wait for the ground to dry out a little before the
next round of storms blows through. It was
tricky getting over to the asparagus bed this morning to
cut some tender stalks; the freshly tilled water-
logged soil has taken on all of the worst properties of
primordial ooze, and one could lose their shoes if
not careful. Yesterday I attended a gathering at a friend’s
newly erected tipi on the southern edge of Tug
Hill. We noticed a huge amount of tent caterpillars
apparently dropping from the sky, as we were not under
any trees at the time of their onslaught. One little
wriggler must have thought it was a tipi caterpillar, as
it slowly
descended on a silken strand from the apex of the crossed
ash poles and looked right at home. Soon the deck
was covered with these messy little critters, and I
carefully checked my belongings to make sure I didn’t
trans-
port any of them to our end of the Hill. We don’t
seem to have them in this neighborhood. Yet. Later in the
day we were suddenly engulfed in the middle of a swarm of
honeybees, a loudly buzzing swirling mass of
insects that were traveling so fast we couldn’t get
a clear look at them. They were like little bullets
zinging
every which way at once. Everyone stood stock-still, and
soon the swarm took off into the forest, giving
us a good illustration of hive mentality. Not one
bee remained behind, and no one was stung.
It was a wonder-full natural event that few of us had
ever seen before.
Have a bee-youtiful day,
Daisy
~
Sunday, May 28, 2006 7:00 a.m.
53 degrees, breezy, mostly sunny
Sunrise was a grand sight after a starry, starry
night.
The moon is new and thus seemingly absent, and the stars
were brighter than ever.
I have always been baffled that when a moon is new it is
invisible to our eyes; new things
should be all shiny and bright, at least by tradition. A
new penny, a new baby, a new car,
all are effulgent with gleaming light. A new moon is
elusive, so new it doesn’t even reflect
any light back to us here on planet Earth. Did you ever
wonder where the light goes ? Here
is what Wikipedia has to say: “The New Moon
is the lunar phase that
occurs when the Moon,
in its monthly orbital motion around Earth, lies between
Earth and the Sun, and is therefore in
conjunction with
the Sun as seen from Earth. At this time, the illuminated
half of the Moon
faces directly toward the Sun, and the dark or
unilluminated portion of the Moon faces
directly toward Earth, so that the Moon is invisible as
seen from Earth.” Mystery solved.
Have a mysterious day,
Daisy
~
Saturday, May 27, 2006 8:00 a.m.
59 degrees, breezy, overcast, foggy
It is chilly and very damp, likely to change into warm
and muggy before too long.
Radar shows a small cell of precipitation directly over
Turin, and nothing else of any
atmospheric substance over the whole rest of our area.
When this little blip gets shoved
off by the good west wind, the air will clear and
sunshine will return to the Hill. Yesterday
morning I divided a huge mass of shasta daisies (Leucanthemum)
into smaller clumps and
planted them all over the farm, some snugged into
existing flower beds and a few nestled up
against an old foundation wall. A friend had given me one
single plant four years ago; judging by
how well it has adapted and spread out since then, I
should have beautiful tall daisies all over the
place in no time at all. These are larger than the wild
daisies that grace our meadows and roadsides,
and will bloom for a long time if kept picked. I noticed
some daisies abloom down by the river; I’ll bet
after a day or two of summery weather they will soon be
showing their sunny little faces up here on Tug
Hill as well. We managed to finish mowing the lawn and
all of the long meadow paths before the storm
arrived, but just barely. Rumbles of thunder and huge
splats of rain sent us scurrying under cover, our
outdoor tasks temporarily suspended for the day. Later,
the rain stopped but fog moved in, and the
air was thoroughly saturated with sweet spring mist.
After a short walk the dog was as wet as if he
had jumped into the creek, but it was all merely sponged
up from thick air; it was a little like
walking on the bottom of a big old lake. Fog seems to be
lifting now, time to get busy.
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
.
Friday, May 26, 2006 8:00 a.m.
64 degrees, breezy, hazy sunshine
One look at the radar map shows me that this pleasantly
sunny morning will soon morph into
something completely different. A broad band of moderate
to heavy precipitation is headed right
for the Turin area, and it is moving swiftly enough that
we will delay setting out plants until after the
storm passes through. I predict a blustery day is in
store for us, with possible thunder and lightning
adding some excitement. We could use some rain, that’s
for sure. Strawberry plants and raspberry
canes are beginning to form blossoms, and they will need
at least an inch of water a week right through
fruiting, along with warm days and lots of sunshine. So
far it looks good for the next five days, perfect
for growing things. Memorial Day weekend is the time that
we traditionally plant out our tender plants,
tomatoes, peppers, eggplants, squash and cucumbers.
Everything is tilled up and ready, and the plants
are stretching towards the sun and eagerly awaiting their
summer homes; now we must simply wait for
the storm to come and go. We will probably plant another
row or two of beans this morning, and dig
some weeds from the perennial beds. Life on Tug Hill is
often dictated by the weather, and not by
what seems to be most convenient at the time. Fortunately
we are flexible enough to accept this as
a fact of life, and don’t feel the need for strictly
scheduled activities. It is always good to build some
wiggle room into your daily plan, so that when Mother
Nature forces a change then it is merely
inconvenient, and not totally disappointing. The wind is
now picking up and leaves are
upended and all a-twirl, so perhaps the beans won’t
get planted today after all. No big;
have a surprisingly nice day,
Daisy
~
Thursday, May 25, 2006 8:00 a.m.
65 degrees, breezy, mostly sunny
One of the best views in the whole world is what we see
when we drive up Gomer Hill Road
after a week away: our peaceful little farmstead, nestled
among tall trees and bird-friendly shrubs
and perennials. The coast of Maine is full of unique
oceanic beauty and wildly unpredictable weather
(we are used to that !), but there’s no place like
home. After several days of scrambling over rocky trails
and wandering along flat expanses of low-tide beach, it
was a horse of a different color to stroll our grassy
meadow paths in the waning light of day. Rolling hills
and valleys spread out forever as dusk softened all of
life’s hard edges with a fluffy pink cushion of
clouds. Our corn has emerged from cool damp soil, near
perfect
germination; we hope that by planting it extra deep the
crows will not be able to easily pull it up and will
become
discouraged early in the game. March-planted red potatoes
are barely showing deep green leaves, and carrots
have emerged in a long feathery green line of fine
foliage. There is much to do today, unpacking and
cleaning
up ourselves and our gear, but there is always time to
stop for a few quiet moments and let a beautiful sight
sink in. No matter where you live, there will be an
opportunity to admire and appreciate a songbird, a
beautiful flowering houseplant, or even a plucky
dandelion growing in the crack of a city sidewalk.
Open your eyes and ears, breathe deep of the lilacs and
lily-of-the-valley;
our lives are made up of little individual delights like
these.
Have a momentous day,
Daisy
~
May 24, 2006
Giving The Gift Of You
Serving Your Community
To live harmoniously, we need to be supportive and
helpful to all people, creatures, and
plant life that share this earth with us. While "being
of service" is part of being a good citizen
of the world, it also feels good to help others. When we
do something for others in service,
without the expectation of anything in return, we are
turning our actions into offerings. There
are many ways to be of service. Imagine the impact we
would have on the environment if we
picked up one piece of trash off the street everyday and
chose not to drive our car once a week.
Even gardening tactics such as throwing wildflower seeds
onto a vacant lot can brighten the lives
of others - including the lives of birds and insects.
Everyday, you can do something to make this
world a better place. This can be a wonderful way to
start your day. Smiling at a stranger who
looks down in the dumps or teaching your neighborhood
kids how to whistle will impact
someone's day or even their life. Giving of yourself is
the best gift that you can give.
May 23, 2006
The Mirroring World
We Are Like Nature
Nature is a mirror, inspiring and
teaching us, deepening our sense of belonging in the
world.
Wherever you look, you can see that our patterns and the
patterns of the natural world are the same.
We live our lives according to the same principles as the
trees, the mountains, the clouds, and the birds.
We begin our lives in the womb, folded in on ourselves
like the bud of a flower. When we emerge from
the womb, we slowly begin our unfolding, just as the
flower begins to open its petals. At its prime, the
flower draws many insects to it and also the eyes of
appreciative humans. When the flower's petals begin
to fade and its life cycle comes to an end, it ceases to
hold itself upright and returns to the earth. Tradition-
ally, we return to the earth, just as all plants and
animals do. Like flowers, we leave behind seeds in the
forms of children and other gifts only we could have
given. They continue to unfold even after we are gone.
Rebirth is encoded into our lives, and death is just one
part of the cycle. Look around you, and you will find
connection and insight. Notice how your moods shift from
one to another like the sky shifts from bright blue
to turbulent grays. Your thoughts are like clouds,
appearing, changing shape, passing through, and then dis-
appearing without a trace. The rain cleanses the sky,
just as an emotional release cleanses your mind. The
sky itself is your eternal awareness,unchanging
underneath all these permutations. Let it reflect back to
you
your own abiding perfection. As you walk through the
world, find your own metaphors for connectedness
in nature. Flesh them out fully and follow them as they
lead you through the mystery and intelligence of life.
~
Monday, May 22, 2006
Honoring Life Changes
Blessing Way
A Mother Blessing is a ritual
adapted from the traditional Navajo ceremony known
as a Blessing Way. Mother Blessings fill a gap in western
celebrations surrounding birth.
Whereas a baby shower celebrates the coming of the child,
a Mother Blessing celebrates
the woman's passage into motherhood. Friends-generally
all women, but not always-gather
to give their support to the mother as she approaches one
of the most intense experiences of
her life. A Father Blessing is also a wonderful idea
especially during a time when fathers can be
feeling a little left out. A Blessing Way ceremony can be
given in honor of anyone going through
a major life transition. From graduating high school to
turning 50, significant life changes deserve
to be acknowledged and celebrated. Many of our
traditional ways of recognizing these transitions
have become hollow, often dominated by consumerism. A
Blessing Way is less about giving gifts
and more about communicating from the heart, offering
words of encouragement and inspiration
to buoy the guest of honor in the face of major change.
If someone you know is approaching a
momentous rite of passage, organize a Blessing Way in
their honor. Or, if you need one, ask
for one. It could become a beautiful new tradition in
your community of friends and family.
~
Sunday, May 21, 2006
Goddess Of Infinite Compassion
Kwan Yin
Long ago, according to legend, Kwan Yin earned the
right to enter Nirvana after her death.
But when she stood before the gates of paradise, she
heard the anguished voices of those left on earth
and, turning away from bliss, vowed to remain in the
world, gently leading others until all living things
reached
enlightenment. Kwan Yin, a bodhisattva, became the
goddess of compassion, or 'she who hears the cries of
the world,' and her message spread beyond the Chinese
Buddhist community. Today she is known by many
names in many countries. Because of her popularity, she
is depicted in hundreds of ways. Most often shown
as a slim and graceful barefoot woman dressed in flowing
white robes, she is the embodiment of empathy,
unconditional love, and perfect compassion. Sometimes she
transforms herself - into a child, a man,
or even a king - to better guide and teach the path to
Nirvana.
~
Kwan Yin's goal is to liberate all beings from suffering,
no matter who or what they are, and thus
building a relationship with her involves little. There
is no required ritual or dogma. Rather, her devotees
strive to emulate her compassion and caring in their own
lives by attempting to adhere to the standards of
the goddess and by serving others. Kwan Yin's unselfish
devotion to all living beings is key. She is free from
pride and vengefulness, and passes no judgment. She is
reluctant grants great comfort to the lost, the sick,
the senile, the troubled, and the unfortunate. In the
tales surrounding Kwan Yin, the dejected need only
cry out to her for help to be freed from fear and danger.
~
Embracing the way of Kwan Yin is as easy as cultivating
her virtues,
which are said to exist deep within all beings, in your
own life. You
may want to meditate on her sacrifice and ask yourself
what selfless
actions you could take to better the world. She provides
us with an
example of how to better relate to the world and each
other, asking
us simply to treat all living things as we ourselves
would be treated.
~
Saturday, May 20, 2006
While Daisy is away, 'The Daily Om' will fill in.
The Power Behind Us
People That Support Us
Behind each of us stands at least
one supporter. Our
supporters are the people whose help
allows us to do the things we're best at, see to our
obligations, or pursue our dreams. Support
may come from the people who are there to help us through
life's challenges by offering us their
strength and bolstering our spirit. Our supporters may be
the mentors who help us express ourselves
by listening to us as we share our thoughts and feelings,
or the person sitting next to us at a networking
meeting or the teacher from our childhood whose words
still resonate in our minds. We have always had
supporters around us whether we noticed them or not. No
matter where the support comes from, few of
us can make it through life without assistance. As we
take the time to acknowledge everyone that has every
supported us, we can't help but feel grateful.
Understanding our place in our human support system helps
us see that just as there are people that support us, we
are a supporter to many people. By gratefully
accepting the expertise and assistance of our supporters,
we can consciously and more easily build
a life that we love. Thank you to our groups, friends,
and loved ones for all their support.
We all need each other to thrive this world.
~
May 19, 2006
Set Yourself Free
Letting Go Of Perfection
It is good to remember that one of
our goals in life is to not be perfect. We often lose
track of this
aspiration. When we make mistakes, we think that we are
failing or not measuring up. But if life is about
experimenting, experiencing, and learning, then to be
imperfect is a prerequisite. Life becomes much more
interesting once we let go of our quest for perfection
and aspire for imperfection instead. This doesn't mean
that we don't strive to be our best. We simply accept
that there is no such thing as perfection-especially in
life.
Perfection may happen in a moment, but it will not last
because it is an impermanent state. Trying to hold on to
perfection or forcing it to happen causes frustration and
unhappiness. we can choose to experience the universe
as a loving place where we are free to be imperfect. Once
we realize this, we can begin to take ourselves less
seriously and have more fun. Imperfection is inherent to
being human. By embracing your imperfections,
you embrace yourself.
~
Thursday, May 18, 2006 7:30 a.m.
52 degrees, breezy, partly sunny
The sky is awash with huge clouds drifting slowly across
a pure blue sky. We saw our first
taste of sun late in the day yesterday, and it picked out
the very tippy-tops of trees to bathe in
golden light. Dense black storm clouds threatened havoc
but instead provided an otherworldly
background for what little sunshine there was. I am
headed to the rocky coast of Maine for a
week, assuming there is any of that state left after
torrential rains ripped up and down the eastern
seaboard for the last ten days. We have been spared the
fury of those storms so far this season.
Let’s all hope for gentle rains and plentiful
sunshine for the months to come.
Have a great week,
Daisy
~
Wednesday, May 17, 2006 8:00 a.m.
50 degrees, windy, overcast, foggy
Ditto to yesterday’s scene; misty, moist, and
unbelievably green. Well, what do you know,
accidental haiku ! Summertime foliage is developing
quickly on most of the trees of Tug Hill.
Heart-shaped aspen leaves are spinning in the wind like
emerald-skirted dervish dancers. Ash
trees are still bony and bare, but their buds are
beginning to plump up a bit. Lilacs are fully budded,
and now I can see that their overall vigor has improved
immensely with some serious pruning done two
years ago. Late tulips are in full bloom, a purple hue so
deep and dark it almost appears black. Fiddleheads
are gone-by, transformed into lush ferns that form a
graceful background for snow white strawberry flowers
in the hedgerow. Leeks are huge and nearing the end of
their run; there are still enough for one or two last pun-
gent casseroles or soups, but then we must leave them
undisturbed to spread their roots and multiply over the
summer. Birds have been too busy at nesting to regale us
with much music this morning. A bluebird has been
sitting on her four eggs for about a week, and two pairs
of swallows are in the process of putting some eggs
in their well-feathered nests. Two geese lifted off from
the neighbor’s cornfield this morning, honking
loudly
as they passed over our house, and a moment later a great
blue heron followed in their wake. The fog
seems to be deepening instead of thinning; looks like it
is here to stay, but I have been fooled before.
Have a wonderful day,
Daisy
~
Tuesday, May 16, 2006 8:00 a.m.
49 degrees, breezy, overcast, foggy
We have a misty damp morning here on Gomer Hill. The sky
is bright behind a thin layer
of clouds that reach all the way to the ground. Yesterday’s
dull beginnings surprised up by
morphing into one of the nicest days we have seen in a
while. The sun came out and warmed us
nicely while a stiff wind kept black flies from swarming
while we worked outside. We set out the
broccoli and brussels sprouts plants that have been
waiting for such a perfect day, and now they are
happily rowed out and covered with tiny droplets of fog.
We planted parsnips, beets, lettuce and more
peas, and thinned out the first crop of spinach and
lettuce that are doing very well in this cool wet weather.
It is hard to predict when the last frost will strike in
this odd weather year. I would hate to jump the gun
with our more tender crops, so we will sit tight with the
tomatoes, peppers, cucumbers and squash until
the end of May at the very least. A couple of cherry
tomato plants are already in their big wooden pots
but they have the luxury of being portable and can come
inside if frost threatens. Asparagus is going crazy
now that it has enough water; even though the bed is
thirty years old it still produces lots of tender purply-
green spears to perk up our suppers. We are but a week
away from fresh salads resplendent with baby
spinach, tender lettuce, chives, oregano, and basil,
dressed lightly with garlicky olive oil and balsamic
vinegar.
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Monday, May 15, 2006 7:30 a.m.
46 degrees, windy, overcast
It is not raining at present but a damp and chilly wind
makes this less than a perfect morning. Well,
perfect for some things, I would guess, like sneaking up
on trout who won’t be able to see past the
whitecaps and wind-ripples on the surface of the water.
It is also an excellent morning for catching
up on indoor chores which have been let slip the past
couple of days. Yesterday we intended to set
out broccoli and brussels sprouts plants, but every time
we gathered the gear and headed down to
the garden it rained hard. We managed to mow the lawn
between showers for the first time this season.
Grass has been growing an inch a day in all this rain,
and it will be hard to maintain a good lawn until the
downpours stop. Our lawn is actually old hayfield, full
of interesting weeds and random escapees from
perennial beds. The front yard is all violets, and that
remains unshorn until the blooming is over. Several
stretches give off the pungent aromas of oregano,
spearmint, and gill-go-by-the-ground (ground ivy) as
the mower blade passes over. Hayfields on the upper road
are resplendent with dandelions; some mea-
dows seem to be more yellow than green, as pretty as any
of the more exotic and traditional wildflowers.
Hay crops are off to a good start; as long as farmers can
get a few dry days in a row to during June they
should be all set. There is a good chance of some rain
every day this week, but I doubt it will be a
total washout like the east coast has been getting. When
you venture out, dress for the weather;
in other words, be ready for just about anything.
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Sunday, May 14, 2006 9:00 a.m.
51 degrees, windy, mostly cloudy
It is a brisk morning following a downright chilly night.
The rain that was
in the forecast disappeared as if by magic, and the main
feature of the day was
deep blue sky framed by swift surreal clouds and wicked
gusts of wind. The wind
in particular is burned into my memory, as there were a
dozen or so of us trying to
wrestle a huge canvas cover onto a cone of smooth-hewn
ash poles without becoming
airborne, like a giant stringless kite with a human tail.
Finally the wish of a lifetime became
reality, and now a beautiful twenty-foot council tipi
stands high atop a rolling meadow at the
southern end of Tug Hill. When the full moon rose huge
and orange in a sky filled with twink-
ling celestial bodies, it cast a wonderful glow upon the
awesome scene. What better way to
ring in Mother’s Day than with a perfect circular
shelter at the summit of one of Mother Earth’s
most beautiful meadows. Four generations of women were
witness to this singular event,
and a great time was had by all. And now, back to the
more mundane tasks of planting
and weeding to feed the physical body during the long
harvest months to come.
The spiritual self is already filed to the brim with the
joy of shared experience.
Good, good, good, good vibrations,
Daisy
~
Saturday, May 13, 2006 9:00 a.m.
52 degrees, breezy, cloudy
Yesterday’s rain left us with a damp and humid day,
with just enough of a breeze to keep
away black flies. We strolled through all of our gardens
looking for signs of the corn and carrots
we planted a week ago. Nothing has sprouted yet, not that
we planted, anyway; there are scads of
sunflowers that are springing up all over the place from
last year’s fallen seedheads. As soon as they
get their true leaves we will move them to little spots
all over our property where we can enjoy their prolific
blossoms later in the season. I’m sure that birds
will appreciate the heck out of them after they go to
seed.
I guess I didn’t really need to buy sunflower seeds
to plant this year. We seldom have this many volunteers;
mild winter temperatures must have safeguarded the seeds’
viability. There is also a huge number of gloriosa
daisies (rudbekia) that overwintered as plants.
They are classified as hardy annuals, but this year they
are
behaving like perennials. Usually the next years’
stand of these lush sturdy flowers comes from seeds that
have dropped the previous autumn. I expect that this year
we will have old growth as well as the new,
providing us with bouquets of varigated black-eyed susans
for much of the summer and on into next
fall. As we move through this perfect springtime,
forsythia is now more green than gold, and marsh
marigolds are dropping their petals onto the still waters
of their respective grottos. Mid-season frilly
jonquils have given way to late-season tulips, stately
and regal in their simplicity of form. The front
yard is a carpet of small velvety violets, the purple
haze signaling that morel mushrooms aren’t
too far away from fruition. Maybe the rain will give them
the jump-start that they need.
And now, I believe a hike is in order before the rain
returns.
Have a fine day,
Daisy
~
Friday, May 12, 2006 8:00 a.m.
51 degrees, windy, overcast, raining
A fierce wind ushered in some hard rain late yesterday,
and the storm continued all night
long. The rain has dwindled down to sprinkles, but the
wind is still blowing really hard from
the southeast, peppering the windows on that side of the
house with flying seedheads from the
aspen tree as well as raindrops. It was a long and loud
night; while some may take comfort from
the sounds of rain on a tin roof, it is less than
soothing to me, inspiring chaotic repetitive dreams. For
all of the wild weather this morning, the view is
relatively clear all the way to the mountains. While
walking
late yesterday my husband spotted an unusual sight next
to an old drained pond across the road. A large
animal sporting a luxuriant coat of dark mottled fur was
crouched low and baring his teeth, displaying a
big red tongue, soundless and absolutely still. Thank
goodness our dog was on a leash. The wind was
blowing so hard that the big critter never heard them
approaching, so assumed a defensive position
when they came around a corner and into its sight. It was
probably a very large fisher, although
pictures of wolverines also fit the description. We have
cougars and timber wolves on Tug Hill;
why not an occasional wolverine that has drifted down
from the Canadian wilderness ? Now
I will be wary around that pond, and mindful to keep
control of our snack-sized dog.
I believe our cats are canny enough to avoid such
dangerous beasts;
at least so far, so good. Meanwhile, enjoy the much-needed
rain.
Keep your powder dry,
Daisy
~
Thursday, May 11, 2006 7:30 a.m.
53 degrees, windy, cloudy
It seems likely that it will soon be raining, but
yesterday got off to a dull start too and
turned into a gorgeous day. We planted potatoes for much
of the day, and several times
I caught myself gazing mindlessly out over the valley and
simply enjoying the view. Swarms
of black flies accompanied us everywhere, so (fortunately
for the task at hand) I couldn’t stand
still for too long at a time. We planted several
varieties of spud, red-skinned norlands, yellow waxy
caroles and yukon golds, norkotah russets, tiny gnarled
fingerlings, and an heirloom variety called caribe,
purple-skinned with creamy white flesh. The upcoming week
of intermittent rain should get all of our crops
off to a good start. We had our first asparagus last
night, and now it will be on the menu just about everyday
in some form or other. What a far cry these lightly
blanched tender tasty spears are from the frozen-then-boiled
slimy grey mass I had as a youngster. I did enjoy
Campbell’s cream of asparagus soup, and now make my
own
from scratch and use much less salt and fat than the
canned variety. I wonder if a childhood spent with
BirdsEye
boxed frozen veggies is responsible for my fascination
with fresh produce in these adult years. Although I must
admit that I occasionally order peas with my meal at a
local restaurant, knowing full well they are canned; they
remind me of my grandmother, who loved the convenience of
canned vegetables. For her generation, peas
came in a can. In my mother’s, peas came in a frozen
box. And now, I like them best sweet and crunchy
fresh out of the pod, or heated in a little butter and
served along with tiny new potatoes.
Ahhhhh, peas on earth good will towards all !
Daisy
~
Wednesday, May 10, 2006 8:30 a.m.
59 degrees, calm, mostly cloudy
A few small patches of blue among the clouds are pretty
enough, but nowhere near where the sun is,
so no warmth is leaking down to earth this morning. Even
the sunrise was mostly shades of grey, with
only a hint of orange around the edges. A catbird has
begun its eclectic morning concerts, sitting high atop
the tallest maple tree and belting out fragments and
tuneful snatches of everybody else’s compositions.
While
a mockingbird will repeat a song several times, a catbird
could be the official poster bird for ADHD, never
repeating the same phrase twice. Starlings will repeat
things many times, often sounding like a stuck record,
and not always merely the songs of other birds. We have
one artiste that has a truck horn, barking dog,
howl-
ing cat, coyote yips, and human whistling in its
repertoire. As lovely as this morning’s tunes were,
they will soon
enough be replaced by a nasal repetitive meeeeew,
for which the catbird was likely named. This is their
call to
fledglings, to keep track of the little guys’
whereabouts after they leave the nest. Our wild turkey
flock is being
thinned on a daily basis, if the shots ringing out every
morning are any indication of luck on the hunters’
part.
There certainly are enough of the big birds to go around
this spring. For my friends that think hunting is a bar-
baric practice, just imagine if turkeys and deer were
allowed to reproduce and flourish unchecked. After our
recent mild winter, I am afraid I will be able to do more
than imagine... two deer grazing in the meadow is
a charming scene; a dozen deer munching their way through
our gardens is a disaster. Omnivorous man
is a natural predator, and an important part of the
balance of nature here on Tug Hill. For sure, wild
animals that are harvested by an ethical hunter have had
a much better quality of life than those
raised in cages or overcrowded feedlots. One doesn’t
have to be a vegetarian to abhor some
of the inhumane practices found in places that mass-produce
meat products. Alas, I seem to
have strayed from lovely birdsong to dead meat in the
space of just a few sentences. Ah
well, it will take only a moment outdoors on this fine
spring morning to turn my attention
back to the good things that abound, the flowers, birds,
and fresh-tilled soil sprouting
new plants on a daily basis. It’s all good, the meat
and the potatoes.
Have a wonderful day,
Daisy
~
Tuesday, May 9, 2006 8:00 a.m.
58 degrees, breezy, hazy sunshine
Our predawn sky was all-over pink, kind of like the land
was being snuggled under a blanket
of cotton candy. Sunrise was very muted, hidden behind a
thin veil of clouds. The valley is all
pastel green with silver mist rising from the river. It
is a warmish morning that will become almost
hot if the clouds ever completely disperse. A south wind
will twist my laundry around on the lines
until it changes over to southeasterly later in the day,
and then things should blow smooth. It is still
too breezy to set out broccoli seedlings, which aren’t
all that tender but they do fall flat in a good wind.
All of our little veggie plants will be so much happier
when they finally settle into their permanent summer
homes, but it would be jumping the gun to move them
outdoors before the planting moon of May 13th,
when there is a good likelihood of frost. They will go on
the back porch today for a couple of weeks
of hardening off, so it won’t be such a huge
shock to them when they hit the direct sunlight and
fresh Tug Hill air of their new environment. Come to
think of it, I could use a little acclimation
myself, get used to the feel of the wind and sun on my
jacketless arms.
Enjoy your day,
Daisy
~
Monday, May 8, 2006 8:00 a.m.
61 degrees, breezy, mostly sunny
Blue sky fades into milky clouds that hover above the
horizon this morning.
I was too late to catch the sunrise; more’s the
pity, as these clouds are the kind
that reflect dawn’s early light the best. It is
already warm enough to forego a jacket,
and the breeze carries no trace of dampness or chill. It
is a perfect morning in every way,
green and gold and fresh as tomorrow. We will set out
some broccoli seedlings later and
plant another round of salad greens for summer suppers.
Asparagus is ready to pick, the
first spears fat and purply-green, just a few poking up
now but in a week we will be feasting.
A long row of spinach can be thinned and thrown in with
our store-bought romaine, tossed
with fresh-snipped chives, alfalfa sprouts, and tender
oregano leaves to perk up a meal
of leftovers tonight. What I really look forward to is
the first New Jersey tomatoes
that will work their way north into our markets; not as
good as home-grown, but
much better than the tasteless dry crunchy orbs that are
available all winter.
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Sunday, May 7, 2006 10:30 a.m.
51 degrees, breezy, sunny
What a spectacular morning! We just returned from
monitoring our nesting boxes; a sturdy
grass bed in one of them holds three pale blue eggs,
bluebirds for sure. One other box contains
a nest but not yet any eggs. Swallows have been exploring
two other sites but haven’t yet made up
their minds, and one box across the road contained the
haphazard collection of twigs that indicates a
wren has moved in. I cleared that one out; wrens get
three chances in my book. If they are persistent
enough to rebuild after I have moved them out twice, I
let them stay. Bobolinks are back in the neighbor-
hood, their crazy metallic chuckles filling the air as
they bob and weave above the meadows. Now it is truly
spring with the return of these cheerfully hyperactive
birds. Fiddleheads are nearly at the end of their run,
quickly unfurling into long green plumes that will soon
tower above the smaller plants along the hedgerow.
Yesterday’s rain has really brought out the deeper
shades of green that have lain dormant since summers-
past, May’s lush promise of growth, fruition and the
abundance of summers-yet-to-be.
Have a beautiful day,
Daisy
~
Saturday, May 6, 2006 6:30 a.m.
45 degrees, calm, partly sunny
What is reported to be a rather large cell of rain looks
like it is going to be keeping north
and west of here for the most part this morning. We may
get a few sprinkles, but this shouldn’t
make you change your plans to visit the bustling little
village of Turin today for the annual bake and
book sale at the fire hall. There is also a chicken
barbecue and many household yard sales all over town.
It never fails; the weather is nearly always chilly for
this event, so dress in layers. Our gardens are very dry;
although I don’t wish to put a damper today’s
local festivities, a few passing showers would be welcome.
Yesterday was a rare jewel of a day, with the deep blue
sky and emerald green shimmer of early spring.
We walked along a dirt road and admired several little
woodland grottos filled with false hellebore, lush
young ferns, and marsh marigolds effulgent with sunny
yellow blooms. It was quite windy, and that helped
keep the black flies at bay during our little hike. Trout
lilies are out in full force, but on a cloudy morning
like this they keep their heads tightly wrapped and bowed
low, so it is easy to miss them. Our flower
beds are slowly changing over to tulips, tiny narcissi
and fancy jonquils, and it is time to deadhead
the daffodils that are shriveling atop their long green
stems. Dandelions are popping out in the
lawn; old-timers say that is this is the best time to
plant potatoes. Whatever you do today,
enjoy yourself; this day will never pass your way again.
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Friday, May 5, 2006 7:00 a.m.
48 degrees, windy, mostly sunny
The half hour before sunrise this morning was very
elegant, featuring a softly lit horizon
painted with broad skyblue-pink stripes. When the sun
came up in a blaze of fiery orange
the pastel colors faded as quickly as if wiped out by a
giant eraser. After yesterday’s rain we
can practically watch the leaves growing on our maple
trees, tightly rolled foils unfurling into burnished
jaggedy flags of bright yellow-green. Colors really pop
this morning, newly opened tulips of red, orange,
and yellow, the green of the meadow grass so intense it
almost hurts to look directly at it; what a wonderful
view ! Yesterday we planted carrots, corn, and sunflowers.
Several seeds have sprouted from last year’s
blooms, and it looks like we will have some early
sunflower bouquets this summer. When we first started
gardening 36 years ago there were two kinds of sunflower
available: those for edible seeds, and those grown
for oil. Now you open any seed catalog and there are two
or three pages of sunflower varieties, a far cry from
the mammoth giant russian strain we used to grow, with
only one huge flower borne on each fourteen-foot stalk
as big around as my arm. We now buy a mix of seeds (Fun
‘n’ Sun from Burpee), and each plant has
dozens
of stems terminating in a smaller flower in hues ranging
from creamy white through deepest crimson. Of course,
there are some standard yellow ones too; some blossoms
are varigated, some are double like huge mums. The
roots don’t go very deep, and if we don’t keep
mature flowers picked often the plants will topple over
and
uproot, victims of their own luxuriance. We have a little
more rain headed our way tomorrow, with the tem-peratures
falling into the chilly zone. Today will be the jewel in
the weekend crown; Start your weekend
early with lunch enjoyed outdoors, a frosty beverage on
your deck with a friend after you leave work,
and a sunset stroll after you change out of your city
shoes. (You know who you are...)
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Thursday, May 4, 2006 7:30 a.m.
55 degrees, breezy, sunny
A whole lake of fog sat low in the valley earlier, but
now the whole view remains only a little hazy.
The early morning light here on Gomer Hill is crystal
clear, and everything looks just a little surreal,
too shiny and colorful to be entirely natural. Long
shadows have dark sharp edges, adding to the slightly
otherworldly effect. Yesterday we gathered a pail full of
leeks and a double handful of fiddleheads from
the hedgerow. After the tedious job of cleaning and
peeling the tiny oniony bulbs everything was baked
into a cheesy pie with a biscuit crust, the first fresh
veggies of the year. Fiddleheads are hard to describe,
having the texture of asparagus and a flavor all their
own. I blanch them a little before using them in
anything,
just in case there are any little bugs hitching a ride in
the tightly curled frond. We also dug a few wild
gooseberry
bushes out of the rock wall and lined them out in our
garden. I am not really sure what to do with
gooseberries,
but the price was right and if they manage to produce
much fruit I will probably make a pie. The little thorny
shrubs produced very few berries in the shade; it is our
hope that putting them out in full sun with a good
dressing of natural fertilizer might encourage them a bit.
Some much-needed rain is on the way later today,
so best get outdoors early if at all possible.
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Wednesday, May 3, 2006 8:30 a.m.
45 degrees, calm, fog lifting
I can’t really tell if it is sunny or cloudy above
the fog this morning. We will hope for sun to
eventually take the nebulous dampness from the land,
which makes it seem colder outside than it
actually is. There is no touch of breeze, which is
unusual for Tug Hill. Little aspen leaves that were
twirling
yesterday hang straight down this morning, soft green
against the rising mist. A forked stick from that tree
that landed on the clothesline last winter (I call it my weather
stick) moves only when a male bluebird lands
on it on this quiet morn. Some days it rocks back and
forth with gusto, sliding from one end of the rope to the
other. This good old stick was dislodged from the tree
many years ago and finally fell away from the crotch
that held it during last winter’s windstorm; what
are the chances that it would land squarely on the line?
It
is perfectly balanced, a real conversation piece for the
easily amused. A pair of white throated sparrows
has been feeding in the yard; soon there will be a neat
little nest concealed at the base of a dense shrub or
nestled under the grapevines. For some reason our cats
never seem to find these cleverly concealed nur-
series. The nests are invisible to the human eye as well,
and usually only accidentally discovered while
pulling weeds from the immediate area. Goldfinches are
back in the neighborhood as well, our most
frequent visitors to the birdbath. Wild turkeys are heard
but no longer seen; whether this is because
they are now tending to their nests or they have taken to
the deeper woods to avoid hunters is
unimportant. What really matters is that they are nowhere
near our tender spinach seedlings.
The sky is brightening a bit, but I can see now that the
fog has blended into a sky full of
big poofy clouds. This will be a good day to bust up some
of the perennial flower
clumps and replant them.Time for this Daisy to spread the
other daisies
around, both the gigantic shastas and the fern-leaved
painted ones.
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Tuesday, May 2, 2006 8:00 a.m.
50 degrees, breezy, partly sunny
Clouds have been steadily moving into our area since
sunrise, keeping the warmth of the sun
from reaching us for much of the time we hung out on the
porch with our coffee. Fleece jackets
helped, but my barefoot toes got cold. Even though the
breeze is from the east, it still has a bite.
Tiny heart-shaped yellowgreen leaves are spinning crazily
on our aspen tree, and the combination
of these delicate dancers next to long fuzzy catkins that
still cling to each twig makes this ordinary
tree look like some exotic specimen. Maple trees have
changed out their brilliant red buds for green
tightly folded leaves almost overnight. Deep yellow
blossoms of forsythia are now mingling with emerging
foliage of an indescribable shade of green. Just when I
thought the view couldn’t get any better, Mother
Nature put some finishing touches to the landscape of my
life that takes my breath away. Yesterday we
planted a row of beans, optimistically thinking that our
hard freezes are behind us. What the heck, we
have plenty of room in the garden and plenty of bean
seeds; no little two-buck packet for us, we buy
our seeds by the pound. We are hoping that this early
planting will bring us that much closer to fresh
tender snap beans, our favorite summer vegetable. Much of
what will go into the ground today
will get an excellent start with mild daytime
temperatures and a little rain later in the week.
I may even put out a tomato plant or two, just in case.
Have a wonderful day,
Daisy
~
Monday, May 1, 2006 7:30 a.m.
55 degrees, light breeze, sunny
Today marks the ancient Celtic festival of Beltane, the
official return to the light and
promise of fertility of all living beings. Ever since I
was in kindergarten I have gathered
flowers for a May basket on this day. If my parents had
realized the pagan origins of this
activity I am sure I would have been admonished most
sternly against it. But in my adult life
I am free to embrace all cultures past and present, and
so will venture down to the hedgerow
to pick trout lilies and spring beauties for my little
handwoven grass basket. To find other ways to
celebrate this beautiful May Day, visit http://www.celticspirit.org/beltaine.htm
. Yesterday we walked
back to a newly made pond to see how it fared after the
winter weather. It is filled with water and the
surface was peppered with whirligig beetles spinning in
tight circles. The bare banks are strewn with
flat shale stones perfect for skipping, so we did that
for a while. Swarms of newly hatched black flies
soon forced us back on the trail at a brisk pace, trying
to keep one step ahead of the bloodthirsty
little suckers. Marsh marigolds (also locally called
cowslips) are beginning to bloom, covering low
wet spots with bright yellow blossoms and large emerald
green leaves. We passed several lovely
grottos filled with cowslips, false hellebore, and
sparkling clear streams gleaming in the late day
sun. A few dark butterflies crossed our path and frogsong
accompanied our homeward
journey. Yesterday was the first day it has truly felt
like spring on Gomer Hill, from
sunup to sundown, a glorious day full of sweet fragrance
and gentle warmth.
Enjoy this beautiful spring day,
Daisy
~
~
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