~
Friday, September 30, 2005 8:30 a.m.
42 degrees, breezy, mostly sunny
A starry night and canadian cold air spelled the end for
some of our more tender garden crops.
Our low overnight temperature dropped to thirty two
degrees. We could not see any frost on the
meadow stubble this morning but the tarps that we had
placed over several tomato plants had a layer
of ice on them, frozen rainwater from yesterday’s
storm. That was one wild and wooly day for sure;
winds blew steady at forty miles per hour with gusts of
sixty plus. Branches and twigs are all over the
yard, and most of the ornamental corn has been knocked
flat, saving us the necessity of a ladder to pick
it. The lights flickered frequently but we never lost
power. Much of downstate New York was in the dark
all day, and many schools to the south were closed, using
up one of the precious snow days very early in
the year. Clouds began to dissipate late in the
afternoon, and as I drove to work the sun burst through
and
spawned a gorgeous broad rainbow that hung low over the
Black River Valley. A few more showers blew
through, and finally just before dusk the sun painted the
last lingering clouds with every shade of red in the
book. Twin vertical rainbow columns sprang from the
valley, tail ends of a double rainbow as brilliant as
a child’s crayon drawing. We are in for a gorgeous
weekend; plan an outdoor adventure or two.
Have a beautiful day,
Daisy
~
Thursday, September 29, 2005 8:30 a.m.
55 degrees, windy, raining
The wind is picking up steadily, and rain has been driven
hard against all of our windows
for the past hour. Leaves are being torn from their
branches and fly past the window down
to the meadow; that’s some we won’t have to
rake later. All of this action precedes a front
of strong thunderstorms that will be packing gusty winds
of 60+ mph. There is speculation of
frost later tonight after the storm blows through. How
much fun is it going to be to pick tomatoes
today in hand-numbing rain? That is the only crop we
really care about rescuing at this point. We
have harvested all of the red fruits, but now if we pick
some that are mature but still green, we will
have ripe fresh tomatoes through November if they are
stored just right. We don’t do anything fancy
like individuallywrapping each piece, we just put them in
boxes and slide them under the kitchen table
out of the way. Some varieties keep better than others,
with Early Girl being one of the best. Stems
should be left on, and of course there can be no nicks,
bruises or marks on the skin. Our noses tell
us if any of them are heading south, and usually we only
lose a few. One year we were able to have
yummy tomatoes on our leftover turkey sandwiches at the
end of November. Stored fruits aren’t
as good as tomatoes that have ripened on the vine, but
they are infinitely better than the hard
woody orbs that pass for fresh from the grocery store.
Wow, it is really raining hard now,
and I hear the distant rumble of thunder. Time to
disconnect and go make salsa.
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Wednesday, September 28, 2005 8:00 a.m.
53 degrees, calm, sunny
We have a clear view all the way to the Adirondack
Mountains this morning.
Several flocks of geese have already passed over the
house, honking noisily to let us know
they are coming so we can run outside to gape up at them.
Closer to earth, many blackbirds
are busy gleaning treats from the dewy meadow, and
sparrows have congregated in the aspen
to peck at something too small for us to see. Blue jays
are all over the sunflowers that have gone
to seed, and since we planted them in succession they
will continue to provide meals for another
month or so. I think the ornamental corn is ready to pick.
I may need a ladder to reach it, as the
stalks are over twelve feet tall. Our late sweet corn has
been delicious, and we have been sharing
it with some raccoons who have leave their cobs picked
clean along the edge of the garden. For-
tunately there is enough to go around. There is a
beautiful little fox that has been hanging around
the past few days, mostly grey with some reddish patches
here and there. It is a fast runner, hold-
ing its bushy tail straight out as it dashes along the
paths. Today will be perfect for gathering in
the last of the peppers and tomatoes; tomorrow will be
stormy and salsa will be the order of
the day. Time to gather up loose ends and begin to wind
down this busy harvest season;
let’s take a little time to enjoy the view.
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Tuesday, September 27, 2005 8:00 a.m.
49 degrees, breezy, mostly sunny
A massive bank of dark clouds to the east delayed
the morning sunrise by at least a half hour.
Yesterday’s rainy front is slowly moving away,
taking its sweet time after stalling out above us
for two days. I noticed patches of blue sky beginning to
emerge as I drove home from Boonville
last evening, with broad sunbeams escaping the flat grey
clouds like shimmering leaks from a tin
pan full of golden cider. Many leaves have started to
lose their green color, revealing their true
hues of red, orange, and yellow that chlorophyll masks
during the warm summer months. Swamp
maples at the end of our road are completely crimson, the
first trees to change as a group every
year. Some autumns are more colorful than others, and I’ll
bet this will be one of the best years
ever. Traditionally, the first full week in October
offers the best colors in our neck of the woods;
that is just a few days away.
Have a beautiful day,
Daisy
~
Monday, September 26, 2005 9:00 a.m.
60 degrees, windy, overcast, light rain
It seems like the sun did not rise at all this morning,
it is that dark and gloomy outside.
In fact, today is the first day of the autumn season
where the daylight hours are shorter
than the night, by two minutes. We will shave almost
three more minutes of daytime off by
tomorrow morning. Most folks think the date of the
equinox presents equal day and night hours,
but in fact that date is more about the position of the
sun than the length of day. Sunrise and sunset
are also affected by your position on the globe. People
living at the equator experience almost exactly
twelve hours of day and twelve hours of night all year
long, with little variation. And, of course, we
are familiar with the Land of the Midnight Sun, those
places close to the North Pole where the sun
stays up in midsummer and barely rises in midwinter,
which of course is the exact opposite near
the South Pole. Now I feel a little foolish griping about
one gloomy morning on Tug Hill,
thinking about Christmas Day in Barrow Alaska, Holy
Blackout Batman !
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Sunday, September 25, 2005 9:00 a.m.
56 degrees, breezy, overcast
It’s a dull morning, outdoors anyway. Rain is in the
forecast but has not yet started to fall.
It looks like a wet couple of days before the sun
reappears. Is it possible that we will have a
day or two of rest and recreation before heading back
outdoors for fall cleanup duties ? We have
started to move firewood into the barn from the neat rows
stacked by the woodlot. Some pieces
we recognize, a certain tree we cleaned up from the golf
course blowdowns, or that gigantic maple
that was so huge that one single round split into 48 big
stovewood pieces. And here is some fragrant
twisty apple mixed in with a few hunks of curly maple;
had we only known, we would have left that
rare wood in log lengths and had it made into lumber.
Basswood and aspen are very lightweight, and
cherry weighs the most. All of it leaks bark strips, and
sometimes there are bugs and slimy fungus. I
say I wear gloves to protect my hands from wood
slivers, but it is really because once you have sunk
your naked thumb into a termite queen’s mushy
gelatinous body, you will never unload wood
without gloves again. Meanwhile, time’s a-wasting,
that wood won’t unload itself.
Have a fine day,
Daisy
~
Saturday, September 24, 2005 7:30 a.m.
52 degrees, breezy, sunny
There was frost in the Adirondacks last night, and
several low-lying spots near Lowville
also reported temperatures as low as twenty-eight degrees.
We saw forty-three as a low, and
it is taking a while for things to warm up. The sun feels
nice and warm as long as we stay out of
the breeze, which is coming from the east for a change.
Our wood range has been pressed into
service this morning, both as a source of heat and as a
good place to slow-simmer a 16 quart pot
full of fresh tomato marinara sauce. Good garlicky smells
waft through the downstairs rooms, com-
peting with the exotic aromas of herbs bundled up and
hanging to dry on the sunporch. If only we
could put these fragrances in a can for later, Daisy’s
Harvest Kitchen would surely outsell Glade’s
Country Fresh, don’t you think? My grandma
used to boil a small saucepan of water and then sprinkle
on some cinnamon and ground cloves, allowing the spicy
steam to freshen the house. She also used to
dab vanilla extract on the inside of her wrists, and to
this day whenever I make cookies I am reminded
of that sweet woman and her busy kitchen. What
aromas trigger your best memories of home ?
Have a beautiful day,
Daisy
~
Friday, September 23, 2005 8:30 a.m.
54 degrees, windy, changing skies
Fog has been coming and going all morning. When it thins
out for a moment we can see the sky,
blue and full of big clouds moving very quickly from
north to south. Sometimes we are surrounded
by dense black clouds with only a tiny patch of blue
sending sunny arrows down to the ground. Then
suddenly everything is lost once again in thick mist. We
must have had rain overnight because everything
is very wet, but I never heard one drop and I was awake
until the wee hours and beyond. We are having
a bright clear spell right this minute and the tops of
the scarlet runner beans are the only thing illuminated,
brilliant red blossoms like little flames against dark
green leaves. It is downright chilly outside this
morning,
damp cold air driven by a north wind that is ushering in
a spell of cooler weather for a few days. Our well-insulated
house still retains yesterday’s heat, but as night
approaches I’ll bet a little fire in the wood range
will be just the ticket. Scattered frost is in the
forecast for the Adirondack region, but not in the
picture for
us for at least a week. Today is the first full day of
autumn, and it is certainly letting us know it has
arrived.
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Thursday, September 22, 2005 8:30 a.m.
66 degrees, windy, mostly sunny
There are a few wisps of high cloud straggling along the
broad expanse of pale blue sky
this morning. It is a pleasant warm morning and a good
day for autumn to make its grand debut
for 2005. Summer will officially end at 6:23 tonight. Get
out your chicken eggs and stand them on
end, it really works! Along with parlor tricks, take time
to relish all of the changes in your life, the
different kinds of weather that we experience and
varieties of good things we can sample. Which
is better, a breezy late summer morning or a sunny snow-spangled
frosty afternoon? Which is tastier,
apple pie or barbecued chicken? What’s cuter, a
puppy or a kitten? Why in the world would we have
to choose one thing over the other? If you ask me, we don’t.
Someone once asked which season I pre-
ferred, and I said I liked them all the same. Each has
its own charm and challenges, and there are good
and bad aspects to them all. I’m afraid I totally
derailed the conversation by my refusal to choose just
one; for some reason not obvious to me some folks were
distressed at my refusal to name just
one season as my favorite. I finally asked, “Which
of your children do you love the most?”
Case closed, point made. Join me now in enjoying this
gorgeous final day of summer (my favorite!)
and welcoming autumn (my favorite!) later today.
It’s all good,
Daisy
~
Wednesday, September 21, 2005 8:00 a.m.
58 degrees, windy, mostly sunny
The sky is clear and blue except for a big rolling cloud
mass over the Black River Valley,
blowing from west to east. It flows like a river in the
sky, reflecting the sun’s rays with silvery
intensity and making the morning view extra shiny.
Lingering heavy dew spreads the glimmer
right up to the house, magnifying the rich deep greens of
late summer with surreal ultra-colorful
undertones. The wind puts it all into motion, a rolling
sea of green both high and low, peppered
here and there by yellow goldenrod and purple asters,
tall sunflowers and bronzed cornstalks;
it’s really almost too much ! Last night’s
sunset was one of the prettiest of the summer, with
the colors reflected from clouds overspreading the entire
sky shifting from pink to red to purple
without missing a beat. There was a brief period of deep
twilight with stars popping out slowly,
then the waning moon rose majestically just as total
darkness was about to set in. What a show !
Get out and enjoy this final day of summer, take your
lunch outside if it is a workday,
go for a ramble after your tasks are done. This day will
never pass your way again.
Enjoy yourself,
Daisy
~
Tuesday, September 20, 2005 7:30 a.m.
59 degrees, windy, raining
Thunder and lightning just before dawn jolted us wide
awake this morning. Several strikes
hit very close, and the rain came down in buckets. A few
lingering sprinkles continue to fall
as the sky brightens up, big dark clouds rushing across a
pale sky from the west. Radar shows
that the worst has passed, and a fine day is on the way
for most of our area. We are just two days
away from the autumn equinox; where has the summer gone?
Soon we will be raking leaves and
piling firewood into the shed as the days grow shorter
and chilly nights fog our breath. It is a
mad tarantella we dance this time of year, so we can
enjoy the slow lazy waltz of winter.
Yikes, here comes some more thunder!
Time to unplug,
Daisy
~
Monday, September 19, 2005 8:30 a.m.
66 degrees, breezy, mostly sunny
Yesterday turned out to be one of the most beautiful days
of the summer, full of bright
sunshine and moderate temperatures. The wind never
settled down into any recognizable
direction; I hung laundry to catch a west wind but it
mostly just twisted and spun as the wind
shifted from here to there. Nothing blew smooth, and all
of our tee-shirts look like they were
wrapped around a broom handle like long hippie dresses.
Today the cotton sheets and towels
are flying out straight in a strong west breeze, flapping
noisily and soaking up good smells to take
into storage for the winter. Last night was chilly enough
to remind me that it is time to get out the
flannel bedding. Last summer I don’t believe I ever
put the flannels away, it was so damp and chilly.
We took a walk on an old farm lane late yesterday; with
the lowering sun right in our eyes everything
was vibrating with color. Bright red crabapples stood out
like christmas lights, and deep orange moun-
tain ash berries dangled in heavy clumps that swayed in
the wind. Turkey tracks were everywhere in
the soft clay of the road, and we heard them calling in
the tall grass. A little pond had come up over
the road and there were frogs plopping everywhere. The
aroma of fermenting apples and spicy ripe
elderberries lent a special tang to the cool air, and we
scuffled noisily through the first fallen leaves.
Sunset was immediately followed by moonrise, and the
Harvest Moon was gigantic as it inched its
way up from the valley, reflecting the warm tones of
sunset in its big orange face. Calendars can’t
agree on the date of this month’s full moon; some
have it the 17th, some say the 18th,
and the
Weather Underground webpage says it’s today. Those
are just words on a page; the actual
moon last night was big and round and didn’t give a
fig for what puny mankind had to say
about it. As it moved in and out of fluorescent clouds it
shone down on us, and if we
were lucky, we shone a little too as we stared upwards in
wonder.
Have a wonder-full day,
Daisy
~
Sunday, September 18, 2005 8:30 a.m.
57 degrees, windy, mostly cloudy
It seems like the weather can’t really decide which
way to turn. There were a few moments
of dazzling sunshine earlier, so I have started the first
of many loads of laundry. Now it looks
like the sky could open up and let loose tons of water
from huge ominous clouds that chased
the sun back into hiding. Hopefully the west wind that is
picking up speed will usher in some
clearing skies and dry air. We were walking late
yesterday and it seemed that there would be
a spectacular sunset; clouds parted to let bright rays
slant down to earth but just for about ten
minutes, then it was dark and stormy once again. The full
moon was just a statistic, we never
saw that either. This is the Harvest Moon, and is aptly
named this year especially. The final
planting of sweet corn has finally ripened, small tender
ears perfect for roasting, wolfing them
down fresh from the stalk, or slightly steamed to
perfection, is there anything better! It is a
gamble to plant corn in mid-July, but it has paid off at
least double or nothing this year.
Wow, the wind just stopped all at once, nothing stirs,
not even the aspen’s little heart-
shaped leaves. What next; who knows... Tug Hill is seldom
predictable, and never boring.
Have an interesting day,
Daisy
~
Saturday, September 17, 2005 7:30 a.m.
60 degrees, breezy, overcast
The sky seems to be brightening up a bit after showers
graced the land off and on all night long.
Our hardest rain was at lunchtime yesterday. We managed
to pick a crazy amount of beans, tomatoes,
and broccoli before the deluge, and I was looking forward
to getting everything but the tomatoes in the
freezer before dinner. The best laid plans, you know how
that goes; the power went off just after I start-
ed to blanch the broccoli. I sorted tomatoes, hauled
clean jars, put away dishes, swept the floor, shelled
some dry beans, sampled this year’s raspberry wine,
and still no electricity. I figured it was as good a
time as any for a walk, and we took a turn around the
back meadow, shoes squishing in the wet grass
and everything smelling sweetly ripe. My nose led me to a
tree full of gorgeous yellow apples with red
cheeks. One sweet juicy bite was enough to send me
sprinting up the hill to the barn for the apple pick-
er and an old pair of pantyhose. I filled both legs with
perfect fruits and then slung the makeshift pack
around my shoulders for the long trudge back uphill. This
is a good way to carry apples while walking
any distance, as the weight is evenly distributed and
they don’t move around too much so bruising is
avoided. It is tricky unloading them unless the stems are
clipped off while picking; otherwise they catch
on the fabric as they slide out. The lights were still
off and twilight approached, so we gathered oil
lamps and candles to light our night. Just as we lit the
first lamp, the power popped back on. The
broccoli went in the freezer late, and we still have to
tackle a mountain of beans. Tomatoes can
wait another day; we are off to an Open House at the
Rodman Landfill after the beans are done.
To the dump !
Daisy
~
Friday, September 16, 2005 9:00 a.m.
66 degrees, windy, hazy sunshine
Hazy sunshine may actually be very light fog, it is hard
to tell on this damp morning.
The ambient temperature seems much chillier than sixty-six
degrees, maybe because the
wind pushes the mist deep into my bones with a shiver of
things to come as we find our way
to summer’s end. Rain is coming sooner than
expected, putting gardening chores into high gear
this morning. Most of yesterday was spent catching up
with ripe tomatoes, filling the house with
steam and good smells as pots of this and that simmered
away before being sealed into jars. In
thirty years of living on Tug Hill we have never seen a
tomato harvest like this one. We have
been blessed with hot days and warm nights, and no
foliage disease or insect pests to slow
things down. I think we will put so many tomatoes away
this season that we will only
need to grow a handful of plants next year, just for
eating fresh. And now, off into
the mist I go, a clean stack of pails and a bouncy little
dog already at the door...
Have a fine day,
Daisy
~
Thursday, September 15, 2005 8:00 a.m.
63 degrees, calm, foggy, showers
The air is so still that when the rain does fall it comes
straight down, not splatting on any
windows at all. The first shower arrived just before the
clock radio came on, a much gentler
way to wake up than rock and roll blasting through the
static of a cheap speaker. The morning
view looks like a watercolor painting, not a leaf
stirring and no birds wandering to and fro. One
orange tree stands out like a beacon amid the greyish
greenery of our neighbor’s meadow, and
everything beyond that disappears into fog. We will see
the sun later today and tomorrow looks
like a fine day as well, but the weekend will probably be
a wet one. Yesterday I was delighted to
find that our late corn is just about perfectly ripe; I
had to search for a dozen ears that are still a little
on the green side, but they certainly whetted our
appetite for the plump milky-sweet ears that will be
ready in a week or so. We have a final planting of mixed
lettuce that is big enough to thin out, providing
tasty salad greens for at least another month, if we can
keep wild turkeys out of the row. Mmmmmm,
a big bowl of mixed greens and herbs sprinkled with a
little white balsamic vinegar and olive oil
infused with garlic, topped by bold gorgonzola cheese
with fat juicy tomato wedges on
the side so they don’t overpower the tender greenery...
I can’t wait for lunch !
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Wednesday, September 14, 2005 7:00 a.m.
64 degrees, breezy, sunny
A south wind wafts the spicy aroma of a hundred-foot row
of marigolds up to the back porch
where we have been enjoying coffee, overpowering even the
rich fumes of freshly ground Kona
beans. Several birds have been putting on quite a show in
the birdbath, splashing and fluffing their
feathers in a whirr of sparkling water droplets as they
play. Many finches have been in the tub, and
bluebirds have been around now and then as well. They
seem to gather all of their broods for one
last hurrah before heading south, posing atop the grape
arbor or lined up like clothespins on the old
line outside my window. Yesterday there were eleven
bluebirds flying back and forth from the arbor
to the birdbath, the bright plumage of spring slightly
faded until next mating season. I have peeked into
the bluebird nesting boxes several times during the last
week, and have found everything from piles of
twigs marking a wren’s territory, to a little
deermouse shivering in one corner. Several doorways were
infested with earwigs which dropped to the ground in a
wriggling nasty mass as I raised the hatch. Yuck.
I cleaned out the wrens’ messes and left the door
open on the mouse house, so he could find his way
home. If any mice build fluffy little beds during the
coming months I will leave them alone until March,
happy to oblige the little guys a warm cozy shelter from
the storms. Those blustery days seem far away
now, but as the harvest intensifies and preserving or
freezing food becomes a priority I am very much
aware that summer is indeed skidding to a slow halt. If I
were not so intimately connected to the ebb
and flow of the seasons because of our gardens, how else
would I mark the end of summer? The change
from sandals to boots... strappy tees exchanged for
flannel shirts and fleeces... setting the car’s A/C
control from low to high? When I was a kid in the city, I
marked autumn’s arrival by scuffling through
dried leaves in my mary janes, deemed unladylike
by my mom as she scrubbed the brown duff out
of my white ankle socks. I still scuffle, relishing the
crunch and that wonderful sweet smell of leafy
decay as they swirl around my shoes. I love it that my
socks get insanely dirty this time of year
and that I never once in my entire life put ladylike
behavior on my list of priorities.
Tomboys of the world, unite!
Daisy
~
Tuesday, September 13, 2005 7:00 a.m.
60 degrees, windy, cloudless
The sun rose twenty minutes ago, but I’ll be darned
if I can find it. Haze all along the horizon
is allowing only the faintest rosy glow to escape into
the rest of the sky, lending a less-than-festive
look to today’s view. Every living thing is a muted
shadow of itself, layer upon layer of soft green
fading into the distant mist where all is pearly grey.
Crows abound on this otherwise dull morning,
perched atop swaying trees and calling out greetings all
around. The sun has finally made an appear-
ance, a big peachy disc looking flat as a pancake against
the milky blue sky. It’s gonna be hot today,
ameliorated a little by this awesome southwest wind. Get
your heavy work out of the way early, and
soak up all of the summery goodness laid out for us like
a huge buffet. Heat will activate the awesome
aromas of dropped apples brewing in their own juice, and
who knows what else will be borne on
the breeze? Even if your day is packed full of tasks and
appointments, take a few moments to totally
immerse yourself in the sensations that this day holds,
grateful for the small things that keep us truly alive.
Carpe Diem,
Daisy
~
Monday, September 12, 2005 8:00 a.m.
62 degrees, windy, hazy sunshine
A big balloon head and joints screaming oiiiiilcaaaan told
me there was a change in the
weather before I even opened my eyes this morning. The
wind had come up in the middle
of the night and I watched a leaf dance on the tin roof
for several minutes; it is probably still
there, in a cycle of lifting and falling, skidding across
the tin’s edge, then being tossed back to
the peak to start all over again. Clothes on the line are
blowing every which-a-way, and just
when I’m sure the west wind has won, the east wind
takes over for a spell. Even the blackbirds’
flight seems more chaotic this morning, the flock a
scattered troupe of individual aerialists each
doing its own thing. A big orange sun shines through
atmospheric haze but the rays carry little
warmth as far as my upturned face. Later today, when the
air is hot and steamy, I will relish the
memory of this cool morning breeze. We are in for several
hot days and warm nights, so be sure
to check your cukes and zukes; they will rally and double
in size daily with this little return to sum-
mer. Tomatoes and peppers will be happy as well. We took
a ride yesterday to check out the wind
farm north of here. The vanes are not yet spinning, and
scattered about in a seemingly random manner
they look like a set for an H.G. Well’s story. The
sheer size of them cannot be imagined until you
are right there looking up, and up, and up... So far
there are 33 windmills in place, about twenty
percent of the total. I’m all for alternative energy
sources; I’m happy they aren’t in my yard.
What a sight that will be when all of the vanes are
turning in the ever-present Tug Hill wind !
Life can be a breeze,
Daisy
~
Sunday, September 11, 2005 8:30 a.m.
62 degrees, breezy, sunny
The low temperature last night was forty degrees, and at
this point it seems unlikely that we will
see the predicted high in the eighties later today. But
who knows, anything can happen in this neck
of the woods. I was awakened early by a bird I have never
heard before, one that had a collection
of whistled notes that almost sounded like someone
calling their dog. I looked for the source of the
song through field glasses but couldn’t find it as
it was concealed within the foliage of the giant maple
tree by the barn. It sang for quite a while before
falling silent, perhaps sneaking out the back way where
the building blocked my view. It must have been some
species on its way south for the winter, just stop-
ping by for a brief recital and a little rest. I can’t
imagine the stamina migratory birds and insects must have
to undertake such a journey twice a year, all that
distance plus the task of finding nourishment for the
trip,
it’s mind-boggling. One would think that, over time,
they would adapt to their surroundings enough so
that such trips would be, if not unnecessary, at least
shorter. After all, humankind has learned to man-
ufacture clothing and shelter so that we are no longer
primitive nomadic groups following herds and
seasonal seed crops for sustenance. Of course, geese and
butterflies have neither large problem-
solving brains nor opposable thumbs. Many critters (dogs,
cats, horses, budgerigars, hamsters, etc.)
have solved the over-wintering problem by moving in with
humans, but at what cost to their freedom ?
Food for thought, available all year long,
free to all,
Daisy
~
Saturday, September 10, 2005 9:00 a.m.
58 degrees, windy, sunny
Heavy dew shivered my toes as I walked sandal-clad to the
garden to grab a cabbage.
A small flock of geese passed over, heading south a
little earlier than usual. Slanted early
morning sunbeams lit them from underneath, and they
looked like spirit geese, bathed in pure
light that radiated from their white bellies. A north
wind ruffles the leaves, shaking a few loose
and dappling the ground with shadows. So strong is my
need to be outdoors on this rare
morning that I can hardly key in these last few words...
'bye now,
here I go,
Daisy
~
Friday, September 9, 2005 8:00 a.m.
63 degrees, calm, mostly sunny
The view this morning is milky-white fog as far as the
eye can see, curdled in the valley
like crème fraîche. It gleams with interior light, as
if a thousand floodlights were aimed up
towards the sky, high-wattage bouncing around inside the
fog for spectacular special fx. The
fog stops with a sharp line just beyond our south meadow,
and above that is a layer of high thin
clouds fading into a lovely blue sky. Dew sits heavy on
the grass, and the odd morning light is re-
flected a thousandfold from each glimmering droplet. It
is a magical morning, and if a unicorn or two
were to appear from behind the forsythia hedge I would
not be one bit surprised. Several flocks of
blackbirds are lined up along the high wires, just
perched in long rows as if waiting the sharp crack
of a starter’s pistol. I have never seen them sit
this still for so long. All along the road home from
work last night there were huge groups of birds swooping
around the fields, sometimes in a
dense swarm thick enough to cast a shadow, sometimes
scattered about like dandelion
fluff blown away for wishing. The mass expanded and
contracted like a single entity,
now wing to wing with close companionship, now scattered
and seeking.
What a marvelous dance! Get out and swoop a little
yourself today;
the time is right,
Daisy
~
Thursday, September 8, 2005 7:30 a.m.
60 degrees, breezy, mostly sunny
The valley looks like it might be really foggy,
but here on top of Tug Hill the sun is shining.
A few high clouds are slowly moving into the area, and I’ll
bet we may see some rain before the
day is over. We picked lots of veggies yesterday and now
seem to be mostly caught up, except for
tomatoes which gain more color every time we blink. We
pick them a little before they are ripe, to keep
them from being devoured by slugs and other insects that
enjoy their squishy goodness; they don’t seem
to get munched on while still firm. The dining room table
is covered with boxes of tomatoes that were
picked last Monday and are now ready for the canning
kettle. A spackle bucket full of cucumbers is
standing by in the wings to be transformed into crunchy
sweet pickles, and the final planting of green
beans is beginning to bear thousands of tasty little
spears. If we are lucky, frost is still several weeks
away and we can continue with the busy-ness of putting
food by for the rest of the year. Next year’s
garlic can go into the ground later this month, although
we will till the bed now while the soil is still re-
latively dry. One of my flower beds needs to be dug up
and the bulbs divided as well; the initial
investment of a half bushel of mixed daffodil bulbs eight
years ago has multiplied severalfold,
and now we have cheery spring blossoms all over the
place, with plenty to share with friends.
There is much to do; best get crackin’,
Daisy
~
Wednesday, September 7, 2005 7:30 a.m.
57 degrees, breezy, sunny
I have been absolutely caught up in watching a big flock
of turkeys walk down the drainage ditch
by the side of the road. The young’uns are as big as
their mommas now, and they all look big enough
to fill a roasting pan. Fall turkey season starts October
1st and runs through the 18th for
our area, and
the bag limit is one bird of either sex. These wild birds
are so cunning and quick that it is difficult to get
even one, and even though the breast meat is tender and
tasty, the rest of the bird is nothing like what
you find on a domestic turkey. Think about it; the birds
you buy from the store have likely been raised
in pens, with little need to run or fly, so their legs
and wings are not very muscular. The wild turkeys
travel miles every day, foraging for food, and thus the
legs are extremely fibrous with muscle, which
translates to stringy and tough as cooked meat. If you
are lucky enough to get a wild turkey, it helps
to refrigerate it in a brine solution for an hour. Make
the brine by combining two quart water with
½ cup salt and ½ cup sugar. This may make the legs and
thighs more edible on a young bird. Now
I’m getting hungry, and when I look at the turkeys I
see them as Elmer Fudd views Daffy Duck,
already plucked and marching headless with crispy skin
and exuding fragrant steam.
Sheesh, better go make some toast.
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Tuesday, September 6, 2005 8:30 a.m.
72 degrees, breezy, sunny
A couple of real nice days are lined up for the North
Country, with warm sun and gentle
breezes to make outdoor tasks into ventures of delight.
It is hard to keep up with the bountiful
harvest from our gardens, but when this month is over and
done there will be full freezers and jars
with colorful contents lined up on the cellar shelves.
There is a recent trend to make salsa from things
that are beyond tomatoes, peppers and onions, and I will
be experimenting with that a little myself, adding
apples, corn, blueberries, and anything else to the
kettle that seems like a good idea. It is important to
main-
tain acidity in salsa, so lemon or vinegar must go into
the mix along with the other things. We are also going
to try and nail down the sweet pepper relish recipe that
is sold in tiny jars for big bucks by Harry and David.
How hard could that be? At any rate, if good fresh
ingredients are used, the results have to be yummy. We
have a ton of hot peppers this year, and I guess I will
whip up a batch of hot sauce following the ingredients
list on the Melinda’s label: carrots, garlic, lime
juice, hot peppers, salt. it tastes better than it
sounds, believe
me. At some point we hope to have enough time to check
out the wind towers that are being put into place
a little to the north of here. I don’t believe they
will affect our view, but I understand they are highly
visible
from many other places. For more information about this
project, visit http://www.mapleridgewind.com/.
Have a wonderful day,
Daisy
Monday, September 5, 2005 8:30 a.m.
66 degrees, breezy, mostly sunny
Clouds line the eastern horizon and obscure the tops of
the Adirondack Mountains.
Low clouds sit along the Black River Valley, and probably
look like fog to flatlanders.
Here on top of Tug Hill all is amazingly clear, with the
deep blue sky that accompanies
high atmospheric pressure. The temperature dipped into
the mid-forties last night, and
sleeping conditions were the best ever. There is much to
do in the garden today after a
whole weekend of goofing off, but it will have to wait
one more day. Oneida County
has lifted sales tax for a week and this is the last day,
so it’s off to the city to shop
for tax-free essentials. We hope to return in time to
pick tomatoes, cukes, zukes,
and the rest of the broccoli. Time sure flies when there
is much to do !
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Sunday, September 4, 2005 8:30 a.m.
52 degrees, windy, fog
A rain shower sprang from a clear night sky at about 10:30,
dampening the bodies but not the
spirits of the thousands of folks gathered in Turin for
moe.down6. The weather was perfect yester-
day for an outdoor music festival, not too hot, not too
sunny, juuuuuust right, like Baby Bear’s porridge.
Most people who attend events like this are ready for
anything, and this annual event has a weather his-
tory that includes the liberal use of long underwear and
warm hats. This morning it is chilly and damp
enough that we have a small fire burning in the kitchen
range, which provides the opportunity for a
batch of blueberry pancakes for now and a slow-simmered
venison stew for later. We left the win-
dows open last night, and the morning fog has crept into
every corner of the house. With oil prices
soaring, we are indeed fortunate to have the cozy
alternative of burning wood. The morning sky is
brightening up a bit, and I can see the sun trying hard
to break through the mist. There is much to be
done before heading down the hill for another day of
music and fun, so I’d best get cracking !
Have a festive day,
Daisy
~
Saturday, September 3, 2005 10:30 a.m.
68 degrees, breezy, big poofy clouds
Sunrise was lovely this morning. At a writer’s
workshop it was mentioned that the second
most hackneyed, trite, and overused phrase in descriptive
writing is rosy fingered dawn but, hey,
guess what, sometimes even the most standard cliché is
right on the money. I don’t know if it’s the
angle of the sun this time of year, or the way the light
reflects back from the lovely deep greens of
late summer, but the past few sunrises have been real
lookers. Sunset last night was also particularly
nice; I was picking beans, and the sun slowly lowered
itself between two huge multi-blossomed sun-
flowers. All of the colors of sky, clouds, leaves and
flowers perfectly complimented each other, and
I have a mental snapshot that will be pulled out as
needed on some dark and stormy night.
(That phrase, by the way, is the first most overused
cliché, in case you were wondering.)
Have an extraordinary day,
Daisy
~
Friday, September 2, 2005 7:00 a.m.
59 degrees, windy, mostly sunny
The valley is shrouded in mist that isn’t exactly
fog, neither is it low clouds. If we were
nearer a large city I would call it smog. The top of Tug
Hill is bathed in pure clear light and
the breeze has put bright green leaves into motion,
shimmering with morning dew. Here and
there is a spot of orange or red, a sign that summer is
winding down a bit. Cool overnight temp-
eratures mean it is time to air out flannel sheets to
prepare for cozy dreams ahead. Meanwhile,
recent rain has left our gardens so waterlogged I can’t
harvest many things. I took a couple of
steps toward the broccoli yesterday and became stuck fast.
If I tried to pull one foot out, the
other sank into the muck even deeper. I thought I was
going to have to have the phone crew
winch me out with their backhoe. Of course, when I
finally freed one foot, where could I put
it that it wouldn’t get stuck again... so I tried a
giant step towards a weedy patch, and thus be-
came stuck in a semi-spread-eagled pose. I yelled “Make
a wish!” and with several unladylike
grunts, cusses, and giggles managed to get back onto the
grass. Since I don’t want the broccoli
to blast into flower, I will take a few scraps of plywood
with me today to step on so
I can finish picking. Maybe I should get out the skis...
Have a great day,
Daisy
~
Thursday, September 1, 2005 8:00 a.m.
68 degrees, windy, partly cloudy/sunny
This morning’s view is a lot brighter than yesterday’s,
that’s for sure.
We had over five inches of rain, and overflowing drainage
ditches threatened to
whittle away our road once again. Several yards in town
had water standing inches
deep from Mill Creek, which had escaped it’s banks.
I’m sure many a cellar pump pulled
all-nighters to keep up with the runoff. The gardens came
through in pretty good shape, ex-
cept for one section of late sweet corn which lodged;
this is farmspeak for a crop that just
gives up and lays its waterlogged self down in the mud. I
was worried about the ornamental
corn, which is twelve feet tall and laden with heavy
young ears, but that is all still standing. We
traveled a ways to the south yesterday and most of the
creeks and rivers that we passed were
at capacity. Had we gone north, I’m sure we would
have found the Black River alarmingly high.
I wonder what fish do when the water is so tumultuous? Do
they hang on for dear life, or just
go with the flow? For sure they are unable to feed until
the water levels return to normal. It
is very windy right now, which should help to dry things
out a bit, but may also knock
some stuff down. Don’t park under any trees today,
and wear your wellies.
Have a fine day,
Daisy
~
~
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