A brisk north wind is slowly pushing clouds away from the
Hill, revealing
several patches of pale blue sky. The morning air is
fresh and clear, despite
the heavy dark clouds that prevail for now. The full moon
appeared at intervals
during the long night, pieces of it glowing silvery and
pale behind heavy mist.
There were times that the land seemed brighter in the
middle of the night than
it was during the worst of the weekend storms. We took
advantage of a pause
between rain showers to walk the meadow paths late in the
day. There is water
standing in little ponds at low spots, and high humidity
soaked us to the skin even
though no actual rain fell. Trees are starting to dress
for fall; even off the hill we
notice maples showing gold and red weeks ahead of
schedule. It has been
a strange summer for weather. Perhaps it will be an odd
autumn as well.
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Monday, August 30, 2004, 7:30 a.m.
65 degrees, breezy, fog
There is thick fog on the hill this morning, but a breeze
from the west is moving
the mist around in swirls and eddies, occasionally
revealing a tree here and there.
Yesterday turned out to be a beautiful hot sunny day
until early afternoon when more
storms moved in. I heard distant thunder and headed out
to pick some wildflowers
before the rain showed up. I was way at the bottom of the
east meadow hill when a
thick bolt of lightning broke the sky behind the barn,
with an instantaneous crack of
ear-splitting thunder. Holy cow, that was a close one! I
sprinted up to the house,
hoping that my pruning shears wouldn’t act as a
little lightning bolt for the next round,
but unwilling to drop them as they have been in the
family forever. The last time I ran that fast was on a late winter day; I was hiking
and heard a wolf’s howl from the forest
nearby. It’s nice to know the old adrenaline will
still propel me three hundred yards uphill,
although I did spend a while gasping for air after
reaching the porch. All of our cats were
waiting to come inside and looked at me like I was crazy.
That brief storm blew through
without dropping one single splat of rain. I stayed close
to the house, pruning tomato
blossoms and gathering cucumbers and onions, carefully
watching the sky. Later, the
skies opened up and another storm hovered over Gomer Hill
for hours, thunderously loud
and crazy with rainfall. At 4:30 in the afternoon it
resembled twilight outside, and we made
pickles with the lights on. A few more storms will come
our way today, with northwest
winds bringing in some welcome high pressure for a few
days. The edge of the front
should blow through in time to reveal tonight’s
glorious full moon, traditionally known
as the corn moon. This is also the date of the old
Roman festival of thanksgiving,
the Charisteria. We can watch the moon rise at 8:20
and be thankful for the bounty
of corn that this season has provided so far, feasting by
candlelight on a late supper
of garden goodies seasoned with conversation and a touch
of butter.
Enjoy this day,
Daisy
~
Sunday, August 29, 2004, 7:30 a.m.
67 degrees, calm, foggy
We arrived back on Tug Hill yesterday evening, just in
time for the sun to burst
through the storm clouds and create a huge rainbow that
arced bright over the east meadow.
We had a beautiful vacation in Maine, but the view from
our porch rivals any that I have ever
seen, land or sea. We sat still as mannequins after our
nine hour drive, admiring the play of
light as the sun set behind masses of storm clouds.
Weather must have been good here, for
the garden is bursting with beautiful red tomatoes,
golden hot peppers, juicy cucumbers, and
corn that won’t quit. I want to eat everything all
at once! It is a foggy wet morning, steamy
and muggy already with no breeze to stir the air. The
windows are open; for some reason
it is warmer inside than out. Today will bring some rain,
and the sun will be back on Tuesday.
Nothing is falling from the sky right now, so I believe I
will take the dog for a walk to admire
the lush colors of late summer. Thanks to everyone who
held down the fort here at the
farm and the daily column; I enjoyed catching up a week’s
worth of View last night...
no computer in the Maine Woods. Good job !
Have a wonderful day,
Daisy
~
The 'dog days' are upon us,
and for a dozen summers you have slumbered, shaded,
under the same tree.
As I watch you from the window, as I always do,
wishing that I could lie there, too,
but not wanting to disturb your peace,
I am envious.
You haven't a care in the world and I have too many.
Still, I'm glad that you are so carefree.
Perhaps that is one of my greatest accomplishments.
Perhaps that is why Man keeps dogs...
as a reminder that life isn't only worries and
responsibilities,
and that we can give you what we cannot give ourselves.
You remind me that simple pleasures are enough, more than
enough...
that it should take so little to be happy.
Would that with a life of worry we had your years,
and with a life of contentment, you had ours.
But neither of us made these rules.
So sleep well, my friend, there in your cool shade.
One day, you will rest there forever.
I'll glance out the window again in awhile,
to make sure all is well,
and to be assured that you are still the keeper of my
peace,
and to be grateful that I am the caretaker of yours.
~
Friday, August 27, 2004
Live in joy,
In love,
Even among those who hate.
Live in joy,
In health,
Even among the afflicted.
Live in joy,
In peace,
Even among the troubled.
Look within.
Be still.
Free from fear and attachment,
Know the sweet joy of the way.
-from the
Dhammapada
~
Thursday, August 26, 2004
Bits and Pieces of
Happiness
By Eevee
Today is a windy but warm and sunny kind of day.
The birds are singing away and the trees speak as a
breeze
goes through them. Here is a poem I found that
reminds me
of the trails through my family's woods.
~
The Way through the
Woods
They shut the road through the woods
Seventy years ago.
Weather and rain have undone it again,
And now you would never know
There was once a road through the woods
Before they planted the trees.
It is underneath the coppice and heath,
And the thin anemones.
Only the keeper sees
That, where the ring-dove broods,
And the badgers roll at ease,
There was once a road through the woods.
Yet, if you enter the woods
Of a summer evening late,
When the night-air cools on the trout-ringed pools
Where the otter whistles his mate,
(They fear not men in the woods,
Because they see so few.)
You will hear the beat of a horse's feet,
And the swish of a skirt in the dew,
Steadily cantering through
The misty solitudes,
As though they perfectly knew
The old lost road through the woods.
But there is no road through the woods.
Rudyard Kipling 1865 - 1936
~
Wednesday, August 25, 2004
One single visible
ray of light shown on the Earth this morning, a ray of
hope.
We discussed the wind and it's flow as we drove home
from Gomer Hill. My son
was testing his skills at navigation and I was hoping
that the gray clouds in the East
would not be headed in our direction. Direction is
plaguing me. Which way to go ?
The path of least resistance will be easiest on my mind
and spirit, I know.
Now to go and find it.....or let it find me.
Change your ways,
Pooniel
(filling in for Eevee, who's filling in for Daisy :)
~
Tuesday, August 24, 2004
Bits and Pieces of
Happiness
By Eevee
Today, the sun is golden on the trees and makes the
grass
sparkle like diamonds. There are clouds so low in the
sky that
they look as if they are touching the land. In
the deepest valley,
there is a strip of clouds that is pure white. Far away
at the very
top of the hills is another strip, lying across all the
tree tops.
I wish I was a bird, so I could fly right
through them and
see what is really inside of a cloud.
Enjoy the sunshine,
~Eevee~
~
Monday, August 23, 2004
Bits and Pieces of
Happiness
By Eevee
Today's breeze and sun make it a wonderful day to go
enjoy Mother Earth. As I walk I can hear hundreds of
crickets
and if I listen close I can hear the different rhythms of
their songs.
The flowers and garden look wonderful and healthy as rain
and
sun have been plentiful and made everything
grow high. The sky
is a deep blue with wisps and dots of clouds everywhere
and
some are blending into the rest like a painting. Off in
the hills
there are trees so green that you want to jump and
land in them,
like a dream where trees become a wonderful moss cushion.
Enjoy this day of natural beauty,
~ Eevee~
Sunday, August 22, 2004
Bits and Pieces of
Happiness
By Eevee
This is a poem that I found
and really liked because it makes me think of when
me and my
family goes camping in a forest. It tells all the
things you can see or hear in a beautiful forest.
Charles G.
D. Roberts (1860-1943)
The Solitary Woodsman
When the grey
lake-water rushes
Past the dripping alder-bushes,
And the bodeful autumn wind
In the fir-tree weeps and hushes, --
When the air is sharply damp
Round the solitary camp,
And the moose-bush in the thicket
Glimmers like a scarlet lamp, --
When the birches twinkle yellow,
And the cornel bunches mellow,
And the owl across the twilight
Trumpets to his downy fellow, --
When the nut-fed chipmunks romp
Through the maples' crimson pomp,
And the slim viburnum flushes
In the darkness of the swamp, --
When the blueberries are dead,
When the rowan clusters red,
And the shy bear, summer-sleekened,
In the bracken makes his bed, --
On a day there comes once more
To the latched and lonely door,
Down the wood-road striding silent,
One who has been here before.
Green spruce branches for his head,
Here he makes his simple bed,
Crouching with the sun, and rising
When the dawn is frosty red.
All day long he wanders wide
With the grey moss for his guide,
And his lonely axe-stroke startles
The expectant forest-side.
Toward the quiet close of day
Back to camp he takes his way,
And about his sober footsteps
Unafraid the squirrels play.
On his roof the red leaf falls,
At his door the bluejay calls,
And he hears the wood-mice hurry
Up and down his rough log walls;
Hears the laughter of the loon
Thrill the dying afternoon;
Hears the calling of the moose
Echo to the early moon.
And he hears the partridge drumming,
The belated hornet humming, --
All the faint, prophetic sounds
That foretell the winter's coming.
And the wind about his eaves
Through the chilly night-wet grieves,
And the earth's dumb patience fills him,
Fellow to the falling leaves.
Have a great day,
~ Eevee~
~
Saturday, August 21, 2004
Bits and Pieces of
Happiness
By Eevee
Well, yesterday did turn out nice but the rainy weather
moved over to today. It's 52 degrees, there
isn't much wind,
but it's chilly because the rain is cold. This
morning there was
also a layer of fog on the hills which made it even more
humid.
It would be nice to have a sunny day to go explore with
the family.
Today, though, is a good day for doing inside crafts
or projects.
For those who don't mind the choppy weather, lumber by
the
Woodsman's Field Days in Boonville, N.Y.
Stay dry, keep warm and have fun !
~Eevee~
~
Friday, August 20, 2004
Bits and Pieces of
Happiness
By Eevee
This morning is a warm 62 degrees and the air sends the
lightest
breeze through the trees. The grass is dappled with so much dew that
I find my feet soaked with my first few steps outside.
On one side of the
sky is a beautiful true blue, on the other side is a
clump of stormy-looking
clouds and in the middle is the sun, breaking up the two
and shining bright
beams of light onto the Earth. In the sky the wind is
picking up and the
clouds start to rush back to where they came from.
Hopefully it will prove to be a nice day.
Enjoy the rest of summer,
~Eevee~
~
It is partly sunny, but it is a hazy shifty sunshine with
the wind blowing all
of the leaves upsidedown, so I suspect we will see some
rain before too long.
Yesterday remained dry and summery, and we picked the
first bucketsful of beans
from the main crop. We planted something new, a slender
yellow fillet bean called goldito. It is a very tasty bean with a firm
texture that holds up well after cooking.
We tossed them with some butter-toasted sliced almonds
for an extra special treat.
We put an unbelievable amount of beans in the freezer
every year and never get
tired of them. One year we ran out in mid-winter, and
there was nothing available
commercially that even came close to Tug Hill beans. It
is hard work to grow, can,
and freeze a year’s worth of food, and if we could
find another reasonably-priced
source of good naturally grown foods and poultry without
preservatives or added
salt or foodzilla gene mutations we might be able to
relax a little more during August
and September. Taking full responsibility for the food we
put into our bodies has a
payoff not only in better health and vitality, but the
hours spent tending the gardens
or the flock ensure an interaction with the natural world
that is rare and wonderful.
It is time well spent; we can rest when we are dead.
Speaking of which, we will be
resting (fully alive!) along the eastern coast for the
next nine days; the beans will still
be here when we return. Be sure to check The View
during my absence,
for Eevee will be sharing her insights and observations
with you all.
Perhaps we can even coax another poem from Captain Max.
Stay tuned,
Daisy
~
We may be spared rain showers this morning, as radar
shows the storm clouds
moving across the northern counties of our state. Morning
sunshine moves in and
out of mist; sometimes the shadows are sharp as a knife,
and sometimes every edge
is blurred and melting into one huge green and silver
blob, with lilies and black-eyed
susans adding splashes of color here and there. The
breeze comes and goes as well,
scudding low clouds right across the meadows. Fog fills
the valley and teases us briefly
with a moist caress before moving on down the road. We
dug some potatoes yesterday
and will have to gather them up while still dewy;
otherwise they will get soaked in the
next rainstorm which is predicted for later today.
Raccoons have discovered our early
sweetcorn patch, but so far they have only had a couple
of ears. Some of that good
corn will go into the freezer today, and I reckon there’s
enough for us and the coons
alike. The recent influx of coyotes in the neighborhood
should be taking a toll on the
general varmint population. Rabies thinned out the coons
ten years ago, but since rabies
vaccine has been distributed in the form of bait all over
the north country they are back
stronger than ever. It is hoped that predator and prey
will eventually achieve a natural
balance without human meddling. Speaking of varmints, we
cleaned all of the old hay
from the barn last week and uncovered the mummified
corpse of a skunk. It was light
as a feather and odorless; we had no idea a skunk lived
in the barn. It must have gone
quietly about its business without ever being confronted
by one of our many pets, keeping
a low profile and eating slugs or raiding the compost
pile at night. I have seen a lot of
skunks this summer, many of them flat on the roadside and
many more waddling along
the berm as I drive home late in the day. More than once
I have narrowly missed hitting
one, especially an all-black one who roams the bottom of
the hill; he is nearly invisible
in the twilight. Keep you eyes peeled for all of our wild
critters this time of year,
especially in the dim light at either end of the day.
Look both ways,
Daisy
~
Tuesday, August 17, 2004, 8:15 a.m.
66 degrees, breezy, sunny
We are the lucky ones on top of Tug Hill this morning,
with beautiful sunshine
drenching the area instead of rain. The entire valley
gleams with bright fog; nothing is
visible beyond the treeline that surrounds our property.
Huge flocks of blackbirds are
on the move, landing as a group, briefly picking through
the hay stubble, then rising aloft
in a single swoop and flurry to repeat the sequence a few
yards farther down the meadow.
I have seen large groups of kingbirds during the past few
days as well, except they feed
on the wing, moving from high wire to high wire. Finches
are beginning to band together,
house finches and goldfinches all mixing together in a
beautiful blend of rose and yellow,
gathering at the birdbath for a drink and a splash before
traveling on. Crows are noisy
this morning, calling back and forth as they check out
the diminishing harvest of
grasshoppers in the neighborhood. A huge marsh hawk has
been circling low over all,
picking and choosing whatever it wants then grasping it
in its big sharp talons.
It seems that this morning is for the birds,
Daisy
~
Fog starts at the house down the road and levels the
entire valley with silvery light.
The sky is pale and hazy as well, and it is difficult to
determine where the sky leaves
off and the fog starts. It is warm outside, but lack of
any breeze has brought gnats
out in full force. Breathing with an open mouth is not an
option this morning. These
tiny bugs don’t bite, they just hover and hum and
generally become annoying after
about a minute of relentless swarming. Their favorite
trick is to crawl on the inside of
my eyeglass lenses, tiny wings tickling my eyelashes and
making me slightly crosseyed
as they move across the field of vision. They are at
their worst during early morning
and evening hours; even the slightest breeze will usually
waft them back into their hidey-
holes, where they rest up in anticipation of the next
windless day. The main crop of
beans is just starting to fill the bushes, green and
purple and yellow, and even some
yellow with purple stripes. You can eagerly anticipate
the arrival of bushels of beans,
but if you look at them too often I believe they are too
surprised to grow. If we ignore
them for a day or two, then they will burst into ripeness
with amazing speed.
When I go over to check them Wednesday I’d better
take a wheelbarrow.
Have a wonderful day,
Daisy
~
We saw just a sprinkle of rain at mid-day yesterday; none
of the heavier showers
that were predicted for our area made an appearance.
Today’s plans must remain
flexible enough to accommodate any kind of weather, there’s
no telling what’s in
store for the North Country. Red raspberries are still
coming on like gangbusters, so
prolific that they aren’t even much of a special
treat anymore. Ho-hum, raspberries
for breakfast again? When I was a kid, they were a
special event, purchased from
a farm stand just outside the city limits for the
exorbitant price of a dollar a pint and
served with powdered sugar and heavy cream. If we were
lucky, we had them twice
during the summer. Blackberries grew by the roadside, but
there was too much high-
speed traffic to allow us to pick them safely. We relied
on my Granny’s garden a
hundred miles away to provide us with homemade jams,
jellies and preserves; they
grew a little bit of everything in their suburban back
yard: cherries, strawberries, red
and black raspberries, peaches, crabapples, and
blackberries. They would drive into
the country and pick bucketsfull of elderberries, and
Granny made wonderful shimmering
ruby jelly from the tiny stringent fruits. When my
grandparents came to our house for
Thanksgiving dinner, they unloaded eagerly-awaited boxes
of sweetness, jewel-toned
treasures sealed into old-fashioned jelly jars with
paraffin and capped with a little golden
lid. My Granny passed along her gift to me, and our kids
leave here after every visit
with cases of homemade goodness for their toast and
peanut butter sandwiches. I
think of my sweet Granny every time I hold up the big
spoon and watch jelly drip
in transparent sheets back into the kettle, indicating it’s
ready to pour into jars.
Pass a skill along to someone you love, to keep yourself
alive in their memory
long after you move on from this earthly existence.
Our deeds will be remembered ,
only if our deeds are memorable...
Daisy
~
The valley is shrouded in fog but the top of Tug Hill
gleams with water droplets
in the morning sun. Asparagus is exceedingly beautiful,
bending gracefully under the
burden of moisture, each drop magnifying sea green fronds
until they look like prayer
shawls of fine silk lace, shimmering and shining, pure
adornment in a sea of mud. We
are due for a lovely summer day, and it’s about
time, too! Tomorrow’s weather will
depend on the whims of Hurricane Charley, but then all
will be sunny once again. Today
will be a good day to trim extra blossoms from tomato
plants. There is no chance that
these new flowers will set fruit, and if we remove them
in mid-August the green fruits left
behind will have a better chance of ripening. Last night’s
salad had the first ripe tomatoes
of the season, as well as some tender seedless cucumbers.
We had to plant cukes three
times before they were coaxed out of the ground; mostly
the seeds just rotted in the muck.
Potatoes continue to do very well, and last night we
tried a new variety. Carola is a
yellow-fleshed potato with the shape of an Idaho baker.
We baked a few, and they were
unbelievably creamy inside their tender crispy jackets,
requiring only the slightest dab
of butter and a little salt and pepper. It was like a
single serving of mashed potatoes,
fluffy and golden, absolutely delicious. We also have a
row of fingerling potatoes,
and tonight we will roast some whole with basil and
chives. We never grew these little
long spuds before, and I hear they are a gourmet prize
not to be missed.
Have a tasty little day,
Daisy
~
Friday, August 13, 2004, 8:00 a.m.
58 degrees, breezy, raining
Wowza ! I just had a look at the projected path of
Hurricane Charley, and it looks
like it may plow through central New York unless it
changes direction. Sunday and
Monday might be a little windier than usual, and gee,
more rain... On the other hand,
weather has been so hard to predict this summer that we
might as well just wait and
see what we get. It rained all night long, and although
it is no longer a roof-rattling
deluge, it is still raining. Thanks to a few hot days we
have tasted our first ears of fresh
sweet corn. For some reason, there is more than one ear
located within the same husk.
There is one regular sized ear, and one, two or three
tiny other ones springing up from
the base. Last night we had these little guys stirfried
with peapods and sweet red peppers,
and they were very good. Occasionally we have found
abnormal extra small ears on a
sweetcorn stalk, but they have each been encased in a
separate husk. We have never
seen a mutation like this, and anyone I have mentioned it
to has never heard of such a
thing either. Out of six ears that we picked, we got a
total of 14 ears of mixed sizes.
One ear out of six was single. Only one variety of corn
has been affected in this way;
all of the others seem normal. Ah well, in this summer of
extraordinary weather extremes,
perhaps we should expect extraordinary crops, emphasis on
extra. Have a special day,
Daisy
~
Thursday, August 12, 2004, 7:30 a.m.
60 degrees, calm, overcast
It is a cloudy morning, and was a cloudy night as well. I
stepped outside just after
midnight to look for shooting stars, but I couldn’t
even see any regular ones. I guess
we will just have to remember some Perseid meteor showers
from years gone by.
The first time I ever saw one was the summer I turned
thirteen at Girl Scout Camp.
I grew up in the city, and the only chance I had at
seeing the night sky without streetlights
was the twelve days I was at camp. I usually went to camp
in June, but that summer I
attended in August. We were on an overnight hike at a
cliff and ledge formation, with an
unlimited view of the stars. Our counselors had no idea
that this was an annual heavenly
event that occurs every August, and we stayed awake most
of the night, freezing in our
cheesy duck-printed flannel lined sleeping bags. We were
simply amazed. We supposed
all kinds of explanations, from Wellsian tales of outer
space invasion to angels on parade.
Our counselors were awesome leaders and role models, but
as I look back on it they
were probably not much older or experienced than we were.
I became a counselor
myself at the age of sixteen, truly a babe in the woods.
I didn’t find out about the Perseid
meteor storms until well into adulthood, when I followed
my curiosity about the natural
world and started reading. I’ll bet I only got one
percent of my total knowledge from the
seventeen years I spent imprisoned in public school and
university. We are charged at
birth to enrich our minds as well as our bodies and
spirits, but only when the
responsibility falls on out own shoulders do we truly
thirst for knowledge.
Teach yourself something new today,
Daisy
~
It is a fresh morning, everything bright and shiny with
water leftover from
yesterday’s amazing storms. There were several close
lightning strikes, and
thunder boomed as loud as I have ever heard. The speed
and intensity of the
storms was surprising; one minute the wind was gently
nudging my hair out of
its braid, and the next I was scampering indoors to avoid
being swept away by
an absolute downpour. Then, as fast as the rain started,
it stopped on a dime.
There were several showers off and on into the night,
like we were rewinding
a video of a thunderstorm and playing it over and over.
Just after midnight we
reckoned it was okay to open a few windows. The lonesome
wail of a lost cat
kept drifting in, setting off echoes in our three once-lost
cats, a country song
warning it away, back to its lonesome life under the old
dumptruck in the beeyard. No food for yooooooooou, it all belongs to meeeeeow...
I finally closed the
windows; three cats under one roof is more than plenty.
Just a reminder to all
you folks with outdoor cats; be responsible and spay or
neuter them. You will
be saving generations of critters to come the heartbreak
of homelessness,
hunger, and painful death by disease or predator.
That’s all for meow,
Daisy
~
It is a beautiful summer morning. Three crows kept us
entertained earlier with
noisy antics in the east meadow. It looked like they were
having a rugby match.
They called and cackled and swooped for nearly an hour
before taking off into
the nearby forest. Perhaps there was some threat hidden
in the weeds, a carnivore
threatening this year’s brood. I don’t recall
ever seeing a young crow around here.
Crows don’t leave the nest until they are nearly as
large as their parents, and a
juvenile crow has no distinctive plumage to mark it as a
youngster. I love to listen to
crows, and this morning’s hubub was a pleasure
indeed. High clouds are moving in,
and we are expecting a passing shower or two later in the
day. Yesterday’s fog finally
moved off the Hill, and the wind was stiff all day long.
By the time I hung out the last
towel in our clothesline the first one was dry. Sunset
was spectacular, with colorful
eastern skies echoing the bright hues of the west. We
hope for clear skies for the
next few nights, so we can get out and look for shooting
stars. The Perseid meteor
storm officially starts at 9:00 Wednesday night and peaks
at around 2:00 a.m.
Thursday morning. There will be several meteors tonight
as well;
if it is cloudless go outside and stare into space for a
little while.
For more information, check out
this link.
Have a heavenly day,
Daisy
~
Monday, August 9, 2004, 8:30 a.m.
60 degrees, windy, fog
Spurred on by an impossibly blue sky earlier this morning
I loaded the washer with
sheets and towels, thinking “What an excellent day
for hanging out laundry!” Now
the fog is so thick I can barely see border trees, and
the air is so rich with moisture
that it is dripping off the tin roof as if it were
raining. I have a feeling that anything I
hang out now will absorb more water than it will release,
weighing down the clothes-
lines and dragging the clean linens along the ground.
Fortunately, weather changes
from minute to minute here on Tug Hill, and by the time I
load the laundry basket
the sun may well have returned. It is somewhat unusual to
have fog and wind at the
same time; it is very windy, and several sunflowers tilt
earthward under the weight
of wind and water. Great curtains of mist speed by the
window, setting maple leaves
up on edge and aspen branches wildly wagging. Even queen
anne’s lace by the side
of the road is thrashing about, tiny droplets of water
flung asunder from the broad
blossoms. What a fine morning to putter about indoors,
enjoying the wild weather from the inside out.
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
It is chilly indoors and out this morning, and I have lit
a small fire in the
kitchen range to take the edge off. On Friday a little
fire was kept going all day,
as it remained unseasonably cold. Today we should see
temperatures in the seventies,
and the sun might even appear and warm things
up. For now, the little blaze feels mighty
good. I can’t imagine that turning up the thermostat
on an oil, gas, or electric heater has
the same effect as touching a match to a pile of pine
kindling and feeling the heat slowly
fill the room. I will drag my comfy chair closer to the
big old Kalamazoo cast iron range
and enjoy a hot beverage, warming myself inside and out.
No big logs for today, just
little leftover scraps and chips until the sun pokes
through the masses of clouds. Friday
I burned a big fragrant yellow birch log, and it was a
pleasant anachronism to smell that
spicy wintry smoke drifting to the garden on a downdraft
as we picked beans. We had
a nice long hike yesterday, unhindered by mosquitoes or
deerflies. We bushwhacked
through the woods to a balsam swamp that provided great
ski trails through last winter.
In summer it is an impenetrable tangle of brambles and
weeds, and the wet mucky spots
are obscured by groundcover. After a few minutes of
stumbling through poke-your-eye-
out alder shrubs our dog refused to take another step, so
I picked him up, turned around
and backtracked out to the road. The entire swamp was
beautifully green, surrounded by
four-foot tall ferns and lush clubmoss carpeting. I didn’t
see any open water at all, and
even the stream where the outflow goes under the road was
obscured by greenery. Weeds
along the seasonal roads were trimmed by the town in May,
and some wildflowers are
beginning a second bloom. Daisies are small but turn
their perky faces to follow the sun,
and chicory is getting a new set of dresden-blue blossoms
along their lanky stems. Soon
forget-me-nots will show blue, pink, and white against
their dark green leaves. There is
so much color everywhere you turn this time of year; pack
your mind’s eye full of
summery hues to recall during the black-and-white days of
winter.
Have a colorful day,
Daisy
~
There are stripes of cloud hanging high over the Black
River Valley
and a bank of lower clouds moving in from the north, but
directly overhead the sky
is deep blue and clear as a bell. There is a slight
chance of rain later today, but for
now it is an absolutely beautiful morning. Yesterday was
perfect in its own way,
and we finally got garden weeds under control. Now all
that’s left to do for a few
days is wait for things to mature so we can resume the
task of filling the freezer and
cellar shelves. Tender sweet carrots are big enough to
pull every other one to allow
those left behind to grow larger. When dinner guests see
our autumn-harvested carrots
glazed with maple syrup, they marvel at the gigantic size
of them, with some slices
nearly four inches in diameter. There is no secret to
raising big carrots. The variety is danvers half longand they
tend to grow out instead of down. They will grow as big
as there is space for; if there is a four inch space for
them, they will fill it up. Most
gardeners don’t thin out their crops nearly enough.
I know someone who gets heads
of lettuce from me every summer, and she always says
“There must be something wrong
with our soil; my lettuce never gets nice big heads like
yours does.” I had a chance to
visit her garden, and her lettuce was crowded in the rows
just the way it landed from
the seed packet, nowhere to go but up in tall spindly
leaves. Nothing will grow to its
full potential unless given plenty of space. Ponder this
for a moment, and apply it to just
about anything... animal, vegetable, or mineral. This is
not to say that one should plant
seeds (or have a child, or a puppy, or a relationship)
and then walk away to see what
eventually develops. These things must be lovingly
tended, nurtured, weeded and fed,
and encouraged to fill the space surrounding them in
positive ways.
We do the best we can, with our gardens, our families,
and our friends.
Fill somebody’s space with love today,
Daisy
~
It feels more like autumn than midsummer.
We are supposed to be in the dog days and instead we’ve
had a couple of
three-dog nights. The outside temperature on Gomer Hill
was forty-five degrees
just after sunrise, and sixty-six is as warm as it is
supposed to be today. These
cooler days have been perfect for working outdoors, but
are doing nothing to
ripen tomatoes and corn. Our first planting of sweet corn
is hovering on the edge
of plump tasty goodness, but has stalled out just short
of readiness. We bought
some at a farm stand last weekend, and it was okay, but
there is nothing like
chowing down on a raw tender ear while standing in the
middle of the rows. I
reckon our corn will be ready in a week or less, and
there are plenty of beans
for dinner until then. There doesn’t seem to be much
in the way of a warming
trend until Sunday, when it will be once again in the
seventies. Take advantage
of this beautiful invigorating day to go on a long hike;
throw in some hills to keep yourself warm.
Have a cool day,
Daisy
~
It was a wonderful night for sleeping, chilly and breezy
enough to send us
looking for another blanket. The windows were flung wide,
and all of the
summertime nightsounds drifted into the bedroom. Four-wheelers
dominated
the early part of the night, with crickets trilling a
greeting during the lulls in traffic.
Just after midnight the high undulating yips of a coyote
pack on the run came stabbing
through the screen. I am always happy to be indoors when
I hear this primal sound.
Several summers ago my dog and I were exploring the creek
at the bottom of the
gorge across the road and I heard a pack approaching from
downstream. We climbed
up the steep slopes in record time, and for some reason I
thought that the coyotes would
stay at the bottom. My little dog kept running, through
the woods and out into the meadow;
I picked up my own pace to catch up with him. He stopped
at our mailbox, and as I turned
to get the mail, I saw a half dozen coyotes trotting out
of the woods into the meadow we
had just left. Smart dog! No wonder he went full speed
ahead. He’s a scrappy little guy,
but no match for six wild cousins. Yesterday a single
coyote stopped at our early cornfield,
no doubt waiting for the inevitable raccoon or two to
show up. It was a large animal, and
looked healthy and well-fed. So far we have lost several
pets to traffic, but none to coyotes
or hawks. I envision our property as a safe haven for our
domestic friends, and have the
utmost respect for predators that wander across the
boundaries. Our cats are smart in the
ways of Tug Hill and spend their nights indoors; last
night we all heard the howling and
snuggled farther down into the bedding, comfy and safe.
The next few nights will be
an early autumn preview, even colder than last night.
Have that extra blanket on hand,
and appreciate the shelter and safety of your home; count
your blessings.
Happy snuggling,
Daisy
~
Wednesday, August 4, 2004, 8:00 a.m.
66 degrees, breezy, sun/fog
Fog has been advancing and retreating all morning. A few
minutes ago the sun
was brilliant in a partly cloudy sky, and now all is
thick grey mist. Fog settles on
the skin like cold spray from the automatic vegetable
spritzer at the supermarket.
Yesterday was a funny day, alternating between brief hard
rain showers and
oppressive steamy heat. We managed to pick sixteen pints
of raspberries during
a sunny spell that was long enough to dry the rain from
the fruit. This year there
have been yellow jackets buzzing around the canes,
sipping sticky juice from
berries just the other side of ripe. So far so good,
nobody has been stung; there
must be just enough alcohol in the slightly fermented
fruit to calm their naturally
aggressive tendencies. Or maybe they are just so
delighted to find such a treat
they are paying more attention to the berries than to the
occasional hand that
comes too close. Now the fog has lifted to reveal a sky
that is mostly cloudy,
with darned few patches of blue. A quick check of the
weather reveals that it is
supposed to be mostly sunny today, a good day to hang
laundry out
and admire the way it sways in the breeze.
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
A few high clouds filter the early morning sunlight, but
most of the sky is
cloudless and pale blue. The breeze is nice, keeping
mosquitoes and gnats away,
for the time being at least. Our rain barrel had a little
leopard frog swimming in it,
and he was unable to climb up the smooth plastic sides to
escape. He hopped
away to the relative safety of the privet hedge after I
fished him out. There are
lots of frogs squished on the road, and Saturday night
there was a regular parade
of suicidal frogs hopping frantically across the moonlit
road. It wasn’t just one
species either; all kinds and sizes of frogs were on the
move, like a reptilian version
of Hitchcock’s film The Birds. There was lots
of traffic on the Hill due to graduation
parties, and many frogs did not fare well against the
vehicles. There has been an
unusual number of frogs in the garden this summer. Toads
have always been around,
but this is the first summer I have seen so many frogs. I
guess with all of the rain they
wander anywhere it is moist, which has been pretty much
everywhere this season.
We were finally able to cultivate the gardens yesterday,
and have been kept busy
yanking weeds. The heat has brought our crops along
nicely and the weeds have
kept pace. It looks like it will be a pretty nice week; a
few thunderstorms may
come along to keep things watered but for the most part
it looks like summer
is finally in full swing. It is easy to get swamped by
chores this time of year;
enjoy your tasks and notice the beauty that surrounds you.
Make the most of your day,
Daisy
~
Monday, August 2, 2004, 8:00 a.m.
81 degrees, calm, sunny
Summers are short here on Tug Hill, but this is the kind
of day that makes the entire
season memorable. It isn’t just the heat, it’s
the smell of garden soil as weeds pull free,
the sweetly intoxicating aroma of raspberries mingling
with roses, and the way road
dust hangs in the air for several minutes before settling.
It has been a long time since
dust has had a chance up here, being constantly sprinkled
into submission on a near
daily basis. Pollen has begun to move around as well,
with this year’s ragweed crop
being not only early but quite robust. Those of you with
sensitivities to pollen should
make sure you have whatever remedies you may need on hand
before visiting the
north country. Whether you choose pharmaceutical or
natural relief, remember that
drinking plenty of pure water will help speed toxins from
your system and ensure
optimal results from your brews, pills, and potions. On a
hot day like this it is
especially important to keep hydrated to avoid heat
exhaustion. Take it easy
during the middle of the day, and enjoy this wonderful
summer weather while it lasts.
Have a glass of water right now,
Daisy
~
It is shaping up to be a gorgeous summer day. It is
pretty hot and humid,
even early in the day, but a nice breeze is blowing from
the west, bringing some
welcome relief. All the raspberries in the world are
perched on the canes of our
modest-sized bed, and today I will try my hand at making
wine from them. They
are only just beginning to hit their peak, with many
unripe pink and small green
berries waiting in the wings to burst into succulence
during the next few weeks.
We planted these berries more than twenty years ago, and
have the bed once,
when weeds took over. The variety is Heritage, and
fruit is borne on both old
and new canes. We don’t prune, we seldom weed, we
don’t tie them up or thin
them out. They disappear under winter snows, and reappear
bent but unbroken
in the spring. We rototill a path down the middle, and
every year we have a bumper
crop of hassle-free fruit. A neighbor tied his canes to
posts last fall, on the advice
of a well-meaning fellow gardener; “You must prone
out the old canes and tie up
the new, you will get lots more berries that way.”
Heck, I’ve heard that advice too,
but we already get more berries than we can use. Every
one of my neighbor’s canes
winter-killed last year, unable to bend with the fierce
west winds, and tied up out
of the protection of snowcover during subzero nights. If
it ain’t broke, don’t fix it ! Why mess with a sure thing? Or, if you simply must
try something new, try it with
half your plants; that way you will have half left as a
control. Half of our peppers
are planted under black plastic this year, and so far I
don’t see any difference in
the plants. It was kind of a pain to plant the seedlings
in the plastic, but if it makes
a difference in overall yield, then I guess we will buy
more plastic for next year.
Everyone tells me it will make a difference, but I have
to see for myself.
Now, off to the berry patch !
Daisy
~