Merry Christmas Eve

We just experienced a two-day ice storm with unusual weather conditions that left trees, bushes and branches with inches-thick coats of ice. The ice was thick enough that we could walk on top of the slippery snowbanks without breaking through --- amazing, but dangerous. Air temperatures stayed warm and all the precipitation came as rain, but froze on contact. So, it's not a white Christmas, but a glittery one. And one where many without power might actually wish for coal this year.

Saw My Mom Yesterday

Yesterday, Kevin, Oliver and I stopped in to City Hall to take a look at the winter wonderland of the Festival of Trees. It was magical: Softly lit with paper stars hung from the ceiling that moved in mysterious air currents, friends and family milling around, live music playing onstage and, of course, the trees up for auction. My mom, who passed away years ago, would have loved all the Christmas spirit on display.

Unexpectedly, we got to see an old friend, and to catch up on where our lives have taken us. We saw new friends, too, and I sat listening to the music and watched while Oliver danced with a girl from his class. I also saw him put his hands behind is back and stand quietly still as another boy pushed and pulled him, in a bit of exuberant rough-housing. I felt a sense of awe as I saw Ollie master his self-control and not react. I love who he is, and who he's becoming. I looked up and saw the afternoon sun streaming through the high windows and felt my mom's hand on my shoulder. I was glad to have her there.

Wordless Wednesday: Scale

Wordless Wednesday: Plastered

A Walk in the Woods

We just spent the weekend visiting family in upstate New York and on Saturday we took the kids geocaching. If you've never tried this outdoor/electronic treasure hunting, it's worth checking out. It's a wonderful way to encourage kids to get outside, and turns even the most basic of outdoor walks into adventures. We didn't go very far on this one, but it had some lovely views.

When walking in the November woods, the only green is the moss. And it's striking.

We made our way along a river path, and our vantage point gave us some great views of the water. This particular area was heavy with oaks and we saw some evidence of acorn feasting and some biiiiiig deer tracks.

It's turned cold and I'm guessing our next woods walk will be over a blanket of snow.

Late Harvest

I finally got around to digging up the last of the beets and the carrots. We've had a beautiful fall and we continued to pick both of these as we needed them right up through the first frosts. Frozen ground is coming, though, and I'm happy to have gotten this garden chore done. The carrots will become soup, to freeze and store for winter lunches. I like the beets in my salads, so those will store on the cold porch for day-to-day use. Until next year, my root-crop friends.

Wordless Wednesday: Hard Frost

Fall Raspberries

Our red raspberries produce two crops - one in the spring and one in the fall. This fall our crop was much larger than in the spring, probably the best we've ever had. It was very warm in early fall, and it felt like summer to be out in t-shirts picking berries for pie. This box was picked in early October and baked into an apple-raspberry pie,  joining the fall orchard apples. Weird, but an incredibly delicious combination.

I've found that the fall berries have a different taste than spring, which was especially noticeable this autumn. I did a little research and the good folks from Cornell (of course) had some information on this. Wet weather reduces sugar content, which is necessary for the right ratio of sugar to acid. These berries were a bit bland, which means the ratio is too high.

So, that wet spring weather was still haunting us, even in October.

Wordless Wednesday: Lake Sunset

Grape Jelly

This year's fairly small picking. Note the Nerf bullet standing by. 

We are lucky enough to have some Concord Grape vines that grow semi-wild on a fence in the backyard. They're not terribly good for eating --- with big, crunchy seeds and fold-your-face-in tartness that's only sweetened by frost. But, they make fantastic jelly. 

Many of the grapes we pick are only about blueberry size. 

I know, the grapes themselves don't look like much. They're small, and many stems are partially wizened by the time we get to picking.

Don't let that deter you, though. You may have some of these growing wild around you, and they're worth a little effort.

Here are the basic steps we use:

• Pick and pull grapes from the stems. (This is the tedious part, but over some good conversation and a cup of coffee, this can be fun). 
• Wash the grapes well, but don't worry too much about drying. 
• Cook the whole grapes on the stove over low-to-medium heat and mash the heck out of them with a potato masher. 
• Once they're well-mashed (this isn't an exact science, just give it your best go), pour the grape slurry into a food mill. Don't have a food mill? You can also squeeze the juice out using a piece of cheese cloth. This is pretty messy and time-consuming though. Go ahead and put a food mill on your Christmas list. You won't be sorry. 
• Once you've got the juice separated, the rest is easy. You'll need some pectin and the store-bought variety comes with instructions about how much juice to use per enormous quantity of sugar. 



Grape juice on the stove. 

• Use any pot big enough to cover your jars with a few inches of hot water for the canning process and ---voila!--- homemade grape jelly. 

We often have leftover juice because YOU MUST MEASURE YOUR JELLY INGREDIENTS EXACTLY. I say again, measure twice ... cook once. Jelly won't "set" unless you've got the ratios right. 

You can also combine the juice with seltzer and make amazing home-made grape soda. Delicious!

Wordless Wednesday: Fall Foliage

Neglect

I wrote this note earlier this summer when it became apparent that this would be a neglectful year of gardening. We spent most of our spare time working on a deck project ... and letting the weeds take over as you can see in this picture. We still got a good harvest, in fact we're still picking ... I guess the garden doesn't need me as much as I need it. 

Dear Garden -

Hey there! I know it’s been a while and since you’re not on Facebook and don’t have cell service I thought I’d go old-fashioned and drop you a note. I’m sorry it’s been so long since I’ve been out to see you, I feel terrible … the tomatoes must be getting so big by now! Are they ready to start school, or do they wish for a few more weeks of summer?

I’ve been thinking of you. In fact you’re never far from mind. I keep wanting to spend some time with you and free you from those weeds. But let’s face it, the weather hasn’t been stellar. Of course, you know that better than anyone. Just when you finally dried out, you must have wanted to keel over in that hot spell. And then, where’d the blossom end rot and blight come from? Maybe you should see someone about that, an organic specialist of some kind?

I did see those amazing zucchini, though, and the dill and basil are taller than I thought possible. Nice work! I love how you manage to persevere through it all. And I’m hoping you’ll apply that steady approach to our friendship because I promise a time will come when I’ll be a more regular visitor.

It’s just that this has been a busy summer. We tackled a big deck project and have spent a lot of time with family. Oliver’s getting ready for Kindergarten and his own blossoming is pretty amazing to watch. He’s at that stage of growth when you feel like you want to make sure he’s got good support, but enough room to stretch out. It’s an important time. You want the roots to set deeply, and you hope for enough sun so you can watch his face turn to the light. Of course, there are times when I want to tie him to stakes so he’ll stay still, but I know that energy will serve him well in the long run. So, I’ve been focused on our own family fertilizer this summer, and while it’s no excuse for neglecting you, I hope you’ll understand. Your weeds and wildness are just a reflection of another garden I’m growing.

Take care, my friend. I’m sure I’ll get out to see you soon. Maybe we can catch up when the brussels sprouts are ready. If not, we’ll try again next year.

Love and kisses,

Kate

A Look Ahead

I carried my sleepy son back upstairs early this morning, his weight heavy in my arms, his skin smooth and warm, his legs dangling and his arms thrown around my neck. It's too early, I told him. I'm not ready to start the day, I thought to myself. And, you're getting too heavy for this, I thought. Suddenly I could see the way forward for my boy as easily as I looked back at my baby. A schoolkid, a teenager, a young man, a father. My heart ached a little as I layed him in bed next to his dad, man and boy, made of the same stuff. A window opened and the clarity of the view was breath-taking and beautiful. I'm still not ready to start.

Bolted

Lovely isn't it? This lacy-leafed, delicate white flower is actually cilantro gone by. This beautiful image felt like failure to me. The cilantro is for the salsa we'll make later this summer, but the tomatoes are weeks away from ripening.

I did a little research, though, and found out that cilantro (also called coriander for the seeds it produces) grows quickly and will self-seed.

It quickly became one of my favorite plants, echoing the name of this blog and my love of wild and unplanned growth.

Notes on cilantro:

--- The newer leaves are preferable to the smaller, later ones which can be bitter.
--- Cilantro doesn't mind cool nights and will grow until hard frost.
--- Seeds can be eaten green or dried.
--- Dry seeds upside down, shake the seeds off the stems, and store in an airtight jar for use in spice rubs and baking. They're also an aphrodesiac. Whoa.

Bee Balm and Carry On

 

A week or two of 85 to 90 degree weather has brought the back flower gardens into full bloom. The rain has lessened and the garden is responding. We are at that point in the summer when I could sit out back for hours just looking at the riot of colors. It's not well-planned or manicured, and the weeds are close to taking over, but I love it just the same. 

The black raspberries had a good year, but have now gone by. Additional shade from Oliver's still-unfinished playhouse helped them out, I think. The red raspberries are ripe and we pick them by the handfuls, mostly to eat on the go. There's more than enough for a pie but they never make it inside. The blackberries are beginning to turn, and Kevin thinks this will be the best year yet. We'll see if we can keep up with the picking. 

This is the first year that our bee balm has hit its stride. We'll need to divide it and move it around to slow down its takeover, but that's a job for fall. For now ... we're just letting it all go. 

More Rain

We've had another week of daily rain showers and our backyard is a mud-pit. Thus, the weeding and garden work has fallen by the wayside and many of the flower beds look like this. I started pulling weeds at the edge of this bed weeks ago, and improvised a wheelbarrow out of this nearby truck. Well, the weeds in the dump bed have gotten naturally watered like everything else lately and are growing nicely, thank you. Now I'm considering leaving the truck as a garden ornament / art installation. Title: Truck It. 

Beauty of the Pea

Of all the vegetables, peas are my favorite. They blend the beauty of an ornamental plant with the no-nonsense function of a veg. They don't mind cold weather, and they stand up to be picked. They're also just gorgeous. 

The blossoms are delicate origami, and tipped upside down, eventually producing a pea in slow-motion sleight of hand that turns the handkerchief of the bloom into a pod. The curly reaches of the vines make the plant seem more alive than other vegetables. I feel like if I could sit still long enough, the pea would wind around my fingers and hold my hand. If only. 

Garlic Catastrophe

This spring we've had some problems with our garlic. Around the time scapes normally form we noticed we weren't getting any. A closer inspection revealed the scapes were dying off as they formed, turning white and mushy. We've had so much rain my first thought was that the ground was too wet. Closer inspection found holes in the leaves, and I started to suspect a bug/pest of some kind.

I recently pulled up a plant for a closer look and dissection. I found, a small, white worm.

Crap.

I don't know what it is, but I'm afraid we're going to lose the whole bed. We don't typically use pesticides, and so it's time to go searching for a natural remedy if we can find one.

Update: After some research, I found out that the pest we've got is a leek moth. Details here. Not sure what we're going to do to save the garlic, yet. We may just give it up.

Small, But Sweet

 

Maybe it's my imagination. But, it seems as if the berries we pick from our backyard taste like heaven. Certainly fresh berries are far better than the mealy ones packed in plastic in the grocery store, but there's something about those from your own patch that's even better than farm-fresh.

 

It's been our best year yet for strawberries, without a doubt. Now don't get too excited. That just means that we've got enough for a serving a day. But it's a wonderful, well-fitting gift to head out to the patch in the morning, pick enough for breakfast or a lunch-snack and know that there are still some that'll come ripe for tomorrow. It's a lesson in patience, and satisfaction in small, sweet gifts.

 

Catching Rain

This is a good year for our small patch of lupines. We've got more plants than any year so far, and they include pink flowers this year in addition to the usual purple. I snapped this picture on a recent rainy day, which wasn't hard to do since we've had so many lately. There are several flowers in the garden that catch the rain in beautiful ways, reminding me that even non-sunny days can be brightened. 

Here's an example of that pink lady (you'll have to click through to see it) ... which must be the result of cross-pollination. I've researched a bit to see if lupines revert to color over time, and they do. But from what I can tell, they revert to purple, not pink. So, that color must be the bees work. Bumblebees in particular love lupines because they've got lots of pollen, but no nectar. I didn't know that, but found a fascinating article on color change on the racemes. 

Blackberry Bloom

Our blackberry bushes are in full bloom, and it's funny to see one of the central flower focal points of the backyard become a thorny patch of canes. It's inspiring to think that each of those small white rosettes will become a thimble-sized berry, which will then become pie filling. This year's full bloom occurred in the first few days of June, which feels a little early. No complaints, a longer growing season will hopefully bear sweeter fruit.

Rain, Rain, Go Away

Well, our jump-start on the growing season was just over taken by weeks of cold, rainy weather. The mountains got snow over Memorial Day weekend, in fact. I've braved cold weather to plant the vegetables that weekend, but it was impossible this year after days of driving rain. At the end of it, washed out roads closed many Vermont schools and our backyard was full of standing water. The Brussels sprouts and peppers we'd planted seem to have weathered this weather better than I. A return to warm weather this week is starting to erase my irritation with fickle spring. But only our rainflowers (above) are truly happy.

Warm Weeks

After two weeks of warm, sunny weather our trees and flowers are budded and blooming. It's been a kickstarter spring. I've enjoyed coffee on the porch day after day in just shirtsleeves when normally these early spring mornings are pretty darn chilly. The temperature has reached 80 many days and everyone has broken out their shorts.

Even more remarkable than the warmth is the string of 15 days without rain, or heck, even clouds. That's just not Vermont.

Rather than look a gift warm spell in the mouth, we have put it to good use, getting the vegetable garden tilled and even some of the hardier plants in the ground. In between sawhorses we'll use to cover them when the frost returns, of course. We're optimists, not fools.

Spring Haiku

Green limns bare branches
While we shuck jackets and shoes
Spring covers and uncovers

It's that time of spring when my favorite green is on display. I love it because it's brief and promising. As the new leaves emerge, trees are outlined in this yellow-green, bright and optimistic. You'll see it for a week or two, then it's gone and we move onto summer's full-leaf green. We've had a week or two of unseasonably warm weather: Yesterday it was 78 or so and it inspired our first few tulip blooms. Ah... spring.

Walking Home

While I have yet to have coffee on the porch, those days are coming. The light is longer, stronger and simply more present. I walked O to school and myself to work earlier this week on an unseasonably warm day when temperatures climbed into the 70s. I exhaled a breath I'd been holding since September.

Tiptoe Near the Tulips

It's finally happened! The spring bulbs are peeking up. It's been cold and snowy and after last week's three-to-six inch snowstorm I was just about convinced we'd never see spring. But you can't keep Mother Nature down.

Seed Starting

It's time!

This weekend we got out our new seed-starting trays and did a little planting. The first step, of course, was to find the darn things, then find the potting soil and seed-starting mix, and then let both thaw since we'd left them outside.

But, eventually, it all came together.

This year we're using a hot pink kit we bought from Gardener's Supply. The planting cells are hard plastic and sit on a tray with a water reservoir and a capillary action mat. Fancy!

We also set up our first grow light, also from GS, and topped the tray with its clear plastic dome.

O and I started small with one tray of lettuce seeds and amazingly, they germinated in three days! Holy Bountiful Biodome Batman!

Next up: Tomatoes.

Snow Art

While we've had more snow this winter than last, it still hasn't seemed like very much. One night this week, we got a few unexpected inches. I read later in the day that the freak storm had dumped two feet of snow in some towns just 15 miles from here. Truly odd. 

This storm produced light and slightly sticky snow in mostly windless conditions. This leads to some of the most amazing early-morning tree art. This photo doesn't even really do it justice --- the trees become blank, black canvases for paintings in white. How do you do it, Mother Nature? 

And it's a temporary installation. By mid-day minute temperature changes cause the snow to fall. You look again, and it's gone.

Brrr

A well-stacked woodpile warms you up, even just to see it in the field. This one's up at my brother's place in Montgomery.

Holy frosty frigidity, Batman. We're bundling through our second week of super-cold weather and although the end is in sight, it still feels pretty awful. This past week we had a couple of days of below-zero temperatures that lasted all day. It didn't get much worse than 10 below for us, but that's still pretty c-c-c-cold.

So far it's been a pretty different winter. We started out with a good amount of snow in December and early January --- different from last year's no-snow. That all melted off, though, just before this super cold snap. I don't think we had cold weather like this last year, either.

I wonder what it'll mean for the gardens come springtime. And, at this point, I'm wondering when we'll get outside comfortably again, and whether we'll finish up the winter with snow to play in.