The News From Owl Hollow

The Pileated Returns!

2011-11-25T06:12:00.000-08:00

For the first time since March 2010, and for only the second time in 16 years, I caught sight of a giant pileated woodpecker here at Owl Hollow. He flew to an old apple tree and was inspecting a large crevice formed when a limb came down in a storm. A diminutive downy woodpecker was clinging to the other side of the tree trunk and flew off when the pileated became frisky.

My camera was right at my desk and as I went to turn it on, the woodpecker flew toward a white pine, out of sight.

So exciting! Love those birds!

Calculating the Savings in Growing Your Own Food

2011-09-25T18:11:00.000-07:00

Most will agree, a garden is not complete without tomatoes.

We all know that growing our own food offers multiple benefits—for our health, our taste buds, and our pocketbook. But how many of us know how much we’re actually saving?

For the past few summers, I’ve conducted a little experiment to see just how much I would save by growing veggies myself versus buying their supermarket counterparts. You may be surprised at the results!

Why Grow Your Own?

Before getting to the numbers, let’s review the many benefits of growing your own food. They include:

Personal satisfaction: When it comes to self-sufficiency, there is nothing more elemental than being able to feed oneself. I love the early-evening ritual of wandering down to the vegetable garden, colander in hand, to pick whatever has ripened and prepare it for my dinner that same evening.

Lessening your environmental footprint: By reducing your reliance on foods grown far away and trucked hundreds or thousands of miles to your local grocery store, your food consumption contributes less to smog and global warming. By growing your vegetables, you’re also doing your part to reverse the globalization of the food supply.

Superior taste and freshness: Homegrown fruits and vegetables simply taste better than produce that’s been allowed to ripen in trucks during transport and sit on store shelves before you’re ready to eat it. Even if you’re not a verifiable foodie, the taste, flavor, and freshness of homegrown produce is reason enough for many gardeners to devote a portion of their yard, patio, or terrace to growing vegetables.

Better nutritional value: Because less time elapses between harvest and consumption (say, about an hour when I harvest my own produce compared to days or weeks when I buy it in the supermarket), homegrown vegetables deliver higher nutritional value. And if you choose to grow your produce pesticide-free like I do, you’ll get the added health benefits of consuming organic produce at little-to-no extra cost.

Early September harvest

But for the budget-minded among us, a fifth important benefit of growing your own food is…

The ability to reduce your grocery expenses: In today’s challenging economy, nearly every consumer is looking to save a few dollars wherever they can. Growing your own vegetables can substantially reduce your grocery bill throughout the summer. If you freeze or can your surplus, you can extend your savings into the winter months.

The Economics of Homegrown

This is the third season I’ve tracked my garden’s output, not only by the pound, but by its monetary value.

My garden plot is modest in size, about 120 square feet. It was not intended to feed a large family, although the inevitable surplus is freely given to friends and neighbors. In its current form, it’s L-shaped (to detour around a small juneberry tree) and located in my front yard, to take maximum advantage of sunlight.

Die-hard gardeners can spend lots of time experimenting with heirloom varieties, growing plants from seed, and researching the best soil amendments, fertilizers, compost, and mulch covers. Yet you can fumble along, make mistakes, and still wind up with a respectable harvest, provided there’s ample sunlight and adequate watering.

Due to my own laissez-faire attitude about plant diseases, my garden is succumbing a few weeks early to blight and powdery mildew. With the harvest about 95 percent in, I’ve tallied up my pickings for the season.
To determine their monetary value, I checked the prices of comparable produce at Shop Rite, my grocery store of choice. Whenever possible, I used prices of Shop Rite’s organic produce. But for about half of what I harvested, I couldn’t find organic equivalents and was forced to use the non-organic price in my comparison. Because produce prices fluctuate regularly, I used an average of Shop Rite prices I found throughout July and August, at the height of my garden’s production.

Here’s what I grew and harvested this year, ranked by its dollar value:

2011 total monetary value: $330.08
2011 total expenses: $21.78
Net savings: $308.30

How do these numbers compare to previous years? In 2009, I grossed $148 in produce from a somewhat smaller-sized garden, but ended up with -$222 after factoring in my ‘start-up’ expenses which included a pricey, six-foot-high roll of wire fencing and metal posts (essential to exclude deer).

In 2010, I enlarged the garden (since I had leftover fencing) and harvested more, growing $515 worth of food ($429 after expenses). I attribute some of the increase to a more concerted effort to harvest wineberries daily during the month of July, as they ripened. The wineberries, which grow naturally in my backyard, are an invasive Asian bramble that produces berries that look similar to a raspberry. Since you’ll never find them in a store, I’ve used raspberry prices for comparison when calculating their monetary value. (And you know how expensive raspberries are in the store!)

Acorn squash on the vine

Last summer, I hand-picked 39 cups of wineberries, which really boosted my ‘garden’ productivity. I planned to do the same this summer, but lost my enthusiasm after finding a tiny tick embedded in the skin between my fingers. I don hip boots sprayed with DEET for wading into the brambles as protection against ticks (I’ve had Lyme disease twice) but hadn’t counted on picking one up on my hand. So I settled for about nine cups of berries picked from the relative safety of the periphery of the thickets.

This year’s garden is pretty much spent, but I take comfort knowing I’ll be enjoying my tomatoes, wineberries, kale, basil, and zucchini (in the form of soups, stews and quick breads, and on my breakfast cereal) in the cold winter months to come. I can’t wait until next spring, when I’ll be planting soybeans for the first time.

How long have you been gardening? Are you considering trying your hand at it for the first time? What’s the first thing you’d want to grow?

International Coastal Cleanup Day at Milford Point

2011-09-17T12:49:00.000-07:00

Today was International Coastal Cleanup Day, an annual ritual here along the Connecticut and New York coastline when dozens of volunteers fan out to pick up beach litter from some of our environment's most beautiful locations.

You may have heard about the continent-sized toxic stew of trash (twice the size of Texas) that perennially floats between San Francisco and Hawaii. It's images like that which propel me to do my small part to clean up this planet.

Like the Great Pacific Garbage Patch, probably 85% of the litter I found today was plastic, either soft plastic food wrappers or hard plastics like bottle caps, straws and many unknown objects. Along with that I found a shoe, a car tire, shotgun casings and a variety of unmentionables.

There was a disappointing turnout, but the three of us who did show up at Milford Point made up for our small number with determination. We trudged up and down the coastline with our bags of trash for nearly three hours and were rewarded with a glorious late summer day, bright sunshine and uplifting views of the coastline, marshes and estuaries.

I love the warm, golden tones of beach grass in the sunlight.

This would be a great spot to explore in a kayak.

I was wondering if these purple martin houses were occupied earlier in the summer.

I would have liked to do some beach-combing right after Hurricane Irene.

Perhaps there would have been some interesting seashell finds.

After picking up trash, I hung out at the Audubon Coastal Center, expecting to meet a new friend there for a get-together and picnic lunch. I spent some time chatting with an Audubon employee and her husband to pass the time. Then I lingered at the observation deck near the driveway that overlooks the marshes, taking snapshots. After about 45 minutes, I reluctantly left.

When I got home, there was a message from my friend. She had gotten a little lost, as I did, trying to find the sanctuary. I called her back, and she was still there at the center, wondering where I was. After we compared notes, it became apparent that we missed each other by about 5 minutes. Aarrgh.

It was such a beautiful day, and while I enjoyed my time there, I found myself thinking how much nicer it is to share that with another. Sharon, if you're reading this, let's try again! Hope you enjoyed the views!

The Clean-up Continues

2011-09-05T15:34:00.000-07:00

Tropical storm Irene was not kind to Owl Hollow. She raged and roared, leveling a favorite tree, the snowball hydrangea, dropping the crown of a large hemlock tree on the tool shed my dad built and depositing several large tree of paradise branches in the backyard, not too far from the sun room.

Here's the collateral damage:

The venerable snowball hydrangea, beloved by bees, stands no more.

Amazingly, the hummingbird feeder that hung from it was not damaged.

This is the crown of a large, single trunk hemlock; it remains exactly where it fell.

I'm unsure whether it damaged the roof shingles or not but hope to find out soon.

I have since cut up and hauled to the driveway most of these Tree of Paradise (ailanthus) limbs

except for a rather hefty 10-foot-long piece.

A friend had offered to dispatch with the largest limbs with his chainsaw. On Tuesday, the appointed day, he arrived with chainsaw oiled, sharpened and ready to go. Unfortunately, he managed to cut his finger even before he started up that chainsaw, making it impossible to do the tree work. You see, he somehow managed to nick his finger on something sharp at the top of my basement stairs (darned if I know what he grabbed) and his finger started bleeding. And bleeding. It just wouldn't stop. As he described it, "It's a gusher."

I am not a nurse, and the sight of an actively bleeding anything makes me uncomfortable. I suggested that since we couldn't seem to get the finger to stop bleeding using the usual pressure and holding his arm upright, that he should see a professional. Surprisingly, he agreed.

I drove my friend to a walk-in clinic about 15 minutes down the road, only to find the place closed due to a lack of power. Bummer. It didn't help that every 5 minutes Frank would cheerfully announce, "It's still bleeding."

We returned to my home. Frank said he'd drive himself to Danbury Hospital. I debated driving him there myself, but I was supposed to be driving my mother up to Sherman to do an art installation for an upcoming show. So we parted company at that point.

Frank got a tetanus shot and he is fine. Meanwhile, I set to work myself to cut up and then drag the many branches down my stone stairs and into the driveway until Frank (or someone else) could help me bring them to the landfill. If I left the branches where they fell, they'd kill the grass and their foliage would eventually shrivel up and fall off, making twice as much work for me. Using a broom, I reasoned, is easier than raking.

There's a large pile of debris that now occupies the driveway to the left of the garage. The storm solidified my desire to have a large white pine and the nearby Tree of Paradise removed in late fall. They both are situated to the south side of the house, within striking distance. Both trees grow way too fast and are prone to dropping their branches in a storm. The white pine is not ideally located since it blocks the winter sun from warming the house.

I have a tree guy in mind who seems to have fair prices. He's taken down a few others here in the past few years. It can be enormously expensive, and despite not really being able to afford it right now, I'd gain such peace of mind from having those two trees gone. I worry about tree limbs raining down on the house during every heavy rain or snow storm. There are several others that could possibly threaten the house, but the two I mentioned are, I believe, the leading contenders. They could also take down power lines.

Irene was bad enough, but I keep thinking, what if all that had happened in winter? Six days without power was not pleasant, but in winter it would be disastrous. Can we say, frozen pipes, anyone?

Anyway, the tree cutting guy I have in mind tells me he works year-round, weather permitting. I am sure his business slows considerably in winter nonetheless as most people wouldn't think to have that kind of work done in January. So I will call him in November because I think I'll get a better price than if I called him when everyone else calls him. I am hoping it will be no more than $2,500 for the two trees, but I don't know. They will be a challenge, I am sure, because they are hemmed in on one side by telephone wires going to my house and on the other side by my neighbor's wires. There's not much margin for error.

Luther and Waldo will not appreciate the ear-splitting sound of a chainsaw so close to the house, but I think it still wouldn't be as bad as when the the old shingles from my house were pried off and new vinyl siding installed. It kind of made you jump out of your skin. They banged so hard on the walls that shelving and mini blinds fell down.

Ahh, the joys of home ownership.

The Day's Accomplishments

2011-08-21T16:41:00.000-07:00

Inspiring Thoughts at the Garden of Ideas

2011-08-17T11:23:00.000-07:00

The day dawned bright with the promise of blue skies and sunshine. It seemed like the right time to revisit the Garden of Ideas in nearby Ridgefield, Connecticut. This private, 12-acre garden offers meandering walkways that bring visitors up close and personal with an unusual collection of plants, garden art and statuary. There's also a boardwalk extending into a marsh, meadows and woodland. There's a small art gallery and, if you're so inclined, you can purchase vegetables on the premises.

Intimate walkways encourage exploration...

...or a restful break.

Garden art includes an airplane propeller,

...a dozing, bald-headed man,

...a man balancing a teacup on his head

....and poetry.

I love this weathered Adirondack chair.

There were bee hives on the site, and plenty of pollinators.

A rustic tool shed with stained glass windows

It was a tranquil respite to which I'm sure I'll return.

Return of 'The Blob'

2011-08-14T04:48:00.000-07:00

Do you remember the old horror movie from 1958 called The Blob? It's an alien life form that consumes everything in its path, and nearly does in Steve McQueen.

Well, I came upon something in my vegetable garden that reminds me of that kind of twisted, uncontrolled growth:

Behold, the homely acorn squash.

Look at all that life, all the potential that awaits in the furled up future foliage and that massive, flattened out stem, the tendrils seeking something to clasp onto. Isn't that a bit twisted, grotesque and wonderful at the same time?

Fruit formation is no less amazing.

In other news, I caught a bobcat photo in last week's Voices, the free weekly covering the Southbury area. It was in someone's backyard, and it sounds like it wasn't the first time. What interested me was the fact that while it did indeed have the patterned coat I knew bobcats had, those markings were more visible on the underside. From the top, it appeared to be a solid tan.

Since I only really saw the animal crouching, and it was mostly its head, tail and backside I saw as it leapt into the woods, perhaps it WAS a bobcat. Ahh, save for that pesky fact that I saw a long, curved tail.

The mystery at Owl Hollow continues.

....as does the vegetable pickins'. I am faithfully recording the weight and number of all harvested produce. At season's end, I'll also record the going price of corresponding organic produce at Shop Rite, so I'll be able to come up with a grand tally of the total value of this year's garden. What will be most fun is comparing this year's winners and losers to the previous two years' vegetable gardens.

Mysterious (Very Exciting) Animal Sighting

2011-08-04T11:18:00.000-07:00

OK, folks, hang onto your hats. I have quite a story to tell you.

Just a day ago, the workers finished installing vinyl siding on the house. It looks great, but for five days, there was quite a bit of racket here, especially sitting inside the house, which I did for the bulk of the time they were here. It was out of deference to my two cats. I mean, they were banging so hard on the walls that I had two small shelves in the kitchen fall off the wall, as well as some mini blinds in the bathroom. My one cat stayed holed up in the basement for most of the time, while Luther, the braver of the two, endured the noise with me in the office, but I could tell he was stressed.

But back to my story. Around mid-day today, I had just put a loaf of chocolate zucchini bread in the oven. I was comfortably ensconced in the sun room on my lounge and probably could have drifted off to sleep. My gaze was in the general direction of a large rhododendron shrub in the backyard about 20 feet from the sun room. All of a sudden, I see an animal face appear. It was crouched on a small branch of the rhododendron that was growing parallel to the ground, about 3 inches high off the ground.

There are a number of my neighbor's cats that wander through here regularly, but this cat was different. It was solid tan. While most of its body was obscured by the shrub, I could tell it was quite a bit larger than your garden variety house cat. It had a long, curved tail and a distinctly feline-looking face.

It was acting nervously, as if it might bolt at any minute. Again, its behavior was different than the cats I see around here, who prowl around and are obviously hunting, exploring, wandering. Then my cat, Luther, started meowing elsewhere in the house. He does that sometimes when he doesn't know where I am. Normally, I would call to him, but I was afraid any movement on my part would scare off this animal. I had the windows to the sun room wide open.

I think it was Luther's meowing that spooked the animal, and it bolted off the rhododendron branch and disappeared into the brambles and woods behind my house. There's a fairly large expanse of woods behind my house, up on the hill, and on the other side is a dairy farm. There's a coyote den somewhere in there; my neighbors and I see or hear them periodically, and in fact, they killed my neighbor's Golden Retriever.

I'm really mystified about what I saw. A coyote would not crouch on a tree branch like that. There have been bobcat sightings in my town, but bobcats have short, cropped tails and are usually spotted.

I called Wildlife Biologist Paul Rego at DEP and told him what I saw. He said the mountain lion killed on the highway in Milford was the first and only confirmed mountain lion sighting in Connecticut, so it would be an exceedingly rare thing if what I saw was a mountain lion. I did not really see the animal's full size because it was crouching, and then I saw it from behind only when it ran back into the brush. But I don't think it was larger than, say, a German Shepherd. Paul said you would be impressed by the size of a mountain lion, and that while sizes vary, they generally are larger than a big dog.

He asked me how large the branch was that the animal crouched on, and whether it would likely support the weight of an actual mountain lion. I went out afterwards to check that branch. It only looked to be about an inch-and-a-half in diameter, growing parallel to the ground and about 3 inches off the ground. However, I was startled to see a good-sized crack in the branch. I put my hand on the spot where I saw the animal crouch and as I pressed down, the weight of my hand caused tension on the branch in the very spot where the crack was. The only reason it hadn't cracked further, I think, is because the branch touched the ground. So it supported the idea that the weight of the animal was great enough to bend the branch down far enough to crack it.

Paul was a little stymied about what else this animal could be. Could it be an immature mountain lion, I asked. He said yes, anything's possible, but the question is, how likely is it? While I can't be absolutely sure about the size, what I am sure about is that this was in the feline family. Its face was very cat-like and it had a long, curved tail. It also ran into the woods like a cat, not trotting like a dog. I don't think it was a housecat because not only was the body larger than a cat, but the head was larger than a normal-sized cat.

I guess it's unlikely I will ever see this thing again, and so I guess I may never know exactly what I saw.

New Family of Raccoons on the Premises

2011-07-26T15:20:00.000-07:00

Oh, I know. Raccoons are a common enough sight when it comes to suburban wildlife. But in most of my 15 years here, I saw little evidence of raccoons, which seemed a mystery to me. Here and there I saw skunks, and of course, I'm awash nearly every year in woodchucks,deer and turkeys, red fox and gray fox, even coyote, but raccoons? Not usually.

Earlier this year, I noted the likely presence of a raccoon when I discovered a bag of corn seed ripped apart inside my garage. I have a bad habit of leaving the garage door open overnight, to save on wear and tear on the garage door opener. I've heard they're expensive to replace. I figure I'll be out there the very next day, so why not? (Wierd, I know.)

So I spotted the likely culprits this afternoon after a sudden summer downpour forced me indoors. I was relaxing in the sun room, listening to the steady pounding of raindrops on the roof and the sound of water funneling down the gutter leader.

As usual, Luther saw them first. He growled, and then I watched as a mama raccoon and her three juvenile babies nonchalantly made their way up the stone stairs to the backyard (aka, The Stairway to Heaven), and then disappeared into the single row of forsythia along the stone wall/property line. It's the very spot where there's an old, and I assume uninhabited, woodchuck burrow. (Animals often reuse other animals' dens. Guess it's always easier to move into existing real estate rather than new construction.)

Those babies were awfully cute. I don't mind having them around.

Kayaking the Cedar Creek

2011-07-16T11:38:00.000-07:00

Amidst the long slog of unemployed life and a seemingly endless job search, I took a two-day break to zip down to visit my dad on the Jersey shoreline.

I strapped Little Minnow to the car roof the day before, feeling a bit of trepidation as I thought about the three-hour drive ahead of me on the Garden State Parkway. Have you ever noted the resemblance of a torpedo to a kayak? I had visions of that kayak going airborne at highway speeds. So I checked and double-checked my knots and fastenings and arrived in Ocean Gate perfectly fine this past Wednesday.

Our destination was Cedar Creek, a twisting, slow-moving and narrow river in Ocean County that terminates in Barnegat Bay at Berkeley Island County Park, although we didn't travel the entire length of the river. We put in at Double Trouble State Park (isn't that a great name?) and dropped off the other car at Dudley Park in Bayville.

Although the water was quite calm with a slow-moving current, it made for a challenging two-hour trip because of its many hairpin turns. When you're in a touring kayak or a 14-foot canoe, as we were, making those turns in such a narrow body of water was difficult, and we ended up frequently careening into the overgrown river banks. We weren't alone, judging by the various tree trunks scarred by countless paddlers attempting to fend off a collision.

Adding to our challenge were the many downed tree trunks that hung suspended over the water's surface. If you weren't paying attention and failed to duck at the right time, I'm sure you could be knocked out, or worse.

The river was largely deserted, save for a few small groups of swimmers at certain sections where the river widened out to a small, sandy beach. Cedar trees hugging the water gave the water an amber tint, exactly like black tea. The water's acidity, I'm told, makes aquatic life difficult. (This was also the case on South Carolina's Little Pee Dee River, though in that case, it was cypress trees that made the water tannin.)

There was an abundance of blue and black butterflies flitting about the river, as well as fragrant summersweet (Clethra alnifolia), or sweet pepperbush. We flushed a lone deer that had come to drink the shaded water.

I wanted to take more photos of the three or four scenic bridges we passed under, but I didn't dare take my hands off the paddle!

A good time was had by all, although our sore muscles will take some time to recover.

Candy Growing on Trees

2011-06-27T07:16:00.000-07:00

As a gardener or naturalist, you may have noticed that certain plants act as a wildlife magnet, thanks to the food they supply, or perhaps the shelter they provide. I have four such magnets on my property.

1. The apple trees.
When I moved to Owl Hollow 15 years ago, I counted five apple trees. I'm down to just two producing trees now, as they were all quite old and somewhat diseased, but the two remaining trees produce little yellow apples that begin dropping in June. I've seen everything from a crow flying across the yard with a small apple speared in its beak to a hungry coyote pup going after these apples.

2. The mulberry tree.
I planted just one mulberry tree probably six years ago, but it's a volunteer tree, very close to one of those apple trees, that has really taken off. Just three years old now, it's already 20 feet high. Its berries are starting to ripen and the birds are going nuts. Cardinals, catbirds, robins and a Baltimore oriole, plus a little red squirrel, are what I've seen in its branches so far. I have a great vantage point for viewing all the ruckus as the tree is just outside my office window.

3. Brambles.
Whether it's blackberries, raspberries or wineberries doesn't really matter, but if you have thorny brambles that produce berries, it's a bird bonanza. The berries shown above are wineberries, another Asian interloper, I'm afraid, but I'm guessing they provide just as many antioxidants as native berries, so yes, I will enjoy them all winter long.

4. Viburnums.
I have a large double file viburnum in the front yard. Its berries are reportedly blue/black, but I have yet to see a single one (!) because the birds pick them off before they're even ripe! Not sure what it is about these fruits that make them so delectable, but the birds love 'em. The shrub in bloom, I might add, is magnificent.

Do you have any wildlife magnets in your yard?

Critter Sighting

2011-06-26T05:20:00.000-07:00

You never know what you might see at Owl Hollow. Over the years, I've gotten into the habit of frequently peering out the window of whatever room I'm in whenever I happen to think of it. It's just an absent-minded way of keeping tabs on the out-of-doors as I go about my normal routine. And I've been rewarded with sightings of a lot of critters who are either year-round residents or just passing through.

Waldo and Luther do the same thing. Often, it's the cats' behavior that alerts me to something interesting on the other side of the glass. Sometimes, it's a neighbor's cat on the prowl. Yesterday, my neighbor's big shaggy dog had gotten loose and he came ambling on by, apparently delighted to be on the lam. Other critters, like the deer, coyote and woodchucks, linger for a while, making a meal of the apricot-sized green apples that have begun falling from the apple tree. At other times, the critters are just passing through like the wild turkey, or the raccoon that took recent advantage of my laziness to raid a bucket of bird seed left in an open garage.

Today, the early morning light woke me up early, around 5:30 a.m. After feeding the boys, I settled in at the kitchen table with a plate of blueberry pancakes and a morning news show. A movement outside caught my eye. This time, it was a gray fox acting like it was late for an urgent appointment. He was taking the narrow blue stone footpath that runs along the north side of the house, just five feet from the window, and with a waist-high picket fence garden on the other side. He was gone in an instant; no time for photo ops.

I've only seen foxes here a handful of times, and not recently at that. And it was always red fox that I saw. So spotting the more elusive gray fox was quite a cool surprise. Especially given that, according to my reading, coyotes won't tolerate a fox in their territory. We have a coyote den in the area, and they make their presence known on occasion.

So, this was the second big critter surprise of the season, after the sighting of a large garter snake by the stone wall. (Not the usual pencil-diameter variety.) The snake hung out for at least part of one day because I saw him at two different times one day a few weeks ago, but seemingly left for parts unknown.

It was great to see the fox, though I worry for the many domestic cats that run around here all the time. They seem to prefer the unkempt environs of my property to the tidier lawns and landscapes of their owners' homes.

Paddling the Housatonic and Naugatuck Rivers Near Derby

2011-06-13T11:46:00.000-07:00

I set out on the season's first kayak foray this morning, intent on exploring the Naugatuck and Housatonic Rivers where they intersect in Derby, Connecticut.

I put in at the Derby Greenway boat ramp and headed south on the Housatonic, then turned north on the Naugatuck River to see how far upstream I could get. I'd been warned about possibly shallow water and exposed rocks, but I'm guessing it was the recent heavy rains that made that a non-issue until I reached the Bridge Street overpass in Ansonia.

I was hoping to see some interesting urban landscapes, perhaps some old factory buildings hugging the riverbanks. Surprisingly, that wasn't really the case. In fact, the Naugatuck seemed like a very sterile river, cut off from the communities through which it flows.

While the sound of traffic is ever-present, there was little to see of the old manufacturing towns of Ansonia or Derby, mostly because of the high banks covered with rip rap to stabilize the shoreline. This is, after all, the site of the infamous Great Flood of 1955, which devastated these communities and swept away many buildings. If you look closely at the photo below, you'll see two white vertical rulers that measure the water's height.

For a while, the Naugatuck runs parallel to a new paved walking trail in Ansonia. The trail, which actually runs along the top of a flood control dike, seems already quite popular, judging from the Monday activity. From a boater's perspective, though, there were little, if any views. The river seemed separate from the town. Perhaps one legacy of the flood was to turn the river into something that must be contained and managed than an integral part of the town. Indeed, I was struck by the fact that none of the homes on the river maintained any kind of river access. Overgrown foliage shrouded a few long-abandoned docks, but it was clear that no one had much use for the river these days. In my two-and-a-half hour sojourn, I saw not a single other vessel, docked or on the water.

I thought I might be able to paddle as far north as Seymour, but after passing under a series of railroad and road traffic bridges, I approached what must've been Bridge Street in Ansonia. I was paddling against the current the whole time, but the going got progressively slower. I could see exposed rocks up ahead. I'd been paddling steadily for about an hour at this point, and feeling a little fatigued and fighting a strong current, I decided to turn back.

Now moving with the current, I returned to my starting point in half the time it took me to approach Bridge Street. I swung right and continued north on the Housatonic, knowing my progress upstream would eventually be halted by the Derby/Shelton dam. Numerous swallows skimmed the water's surface, searching for insects. I startled an extended family of ducks with little ones, and I watched with sympathy as they struggled to clamber over the rip rap rock until I passed.

Looking north on the Housatonic, Shelton side.

The highlight of my trip was spotting a group of seven large shorebirds perched on a weeping willow tree branch protruding from the water. Two of the birds were great blue herons and two others looked to be cormorants. I was surprised the fishing was that good, but then, as if to emphasize the point, my attention was drawn to some splashing about in the water, and then a great blue heron swept into the water and emerged with a small fish in its bill.

I'm still curious to see what's further north on the Naugatuck, but I'll save that for another day.

Springtime Means Kayak Time

2011-06-11T09:37:00.000-07:00

Geez, I'm really embarrassed to say that I haven't posted about a kayaking trip since 2009. It's not that I haven't been kayaking, but the last time I had a kayak partner was over 3 years ago, and 14.5-foot-long Little Minnow can be unwieldy to handle on my own. So I haven't been out paddling much, and when I do, I tend to take the easy route and head to the Lake Zoar boat ramp here in town.

But serendipitously, I met a friend last week to do a brief walk on the Derby Greenway trail. I was on my way home from New Haven, and the location was convenient to us both. The walk was nice enough, but what I really got interested in was the boat ramp I saw off Caroline Street on the Housatonic. While I have paddled north of the Stevenson Dam on the Newtown/Monroe border, and just south of the Stevenson Dam in Derby, there's a second dam south of the Stevenson that halts your progress a mile or so downriver.

Putting in near downtown Derby would give me three options to explore: 1. Heading north on the Housatonic to cover a section I haven't yet done, although that Derby dam would keep me from going too far up, 2. Taking a quick jog south, then left (north) up the Naugatuck River, which would wind through the valley towns of Derby, Ansonia and possibly Seymour, or 3. Heading south on the Housatonic toward Shelton, and possibly reaching the Charles Wheeler Wildlife Area near Sikorsky.

As I was researching these options today, I came across the blog of a longtime Derby resident and kayaking enthusiast, so I wrote him and was able to get his feedback on possible routes. He warned me of possible shallow water on the Naugatuck, which was a little disappointing, as that was my first choice route. I'm not into portage. Well, never mind, I can explore north and simply turn around and go south if the water gets low. All a kayaker really needs is a good 12 inches of water. Maybe Friday's rainstorm will have helped.

After checking the weather forecast for next week, I decided to head out early on Monday. I have a very bad habit of always putting "fun" stuff on the back burner and end up not doing what I'd really like to be doing. Since I'm still not working steadily, what the heck! It's free, and I've got the time. I don't like to kayak in the heat of the day, because on the water, there's not often much in the way of shade, and sweating in a hot life vest detracts from the experience.

Monday's high will be just 75 and it should be partly cloudy, which I consider perfect for kayaking. Here's my list of what to bring, because I always seem to forget something:
1. Sunscreen
2. Camera
3. Water bottle
4. Water shoes
5. Plastic bag for collecting trash (hate to see stuff floating around)
6. My lunch
7. PFD vest
8. Watch
9. Map
10. Binoculars

And of course, better not forget this:
11. The kayak with paddle and paddle leash

You'll see my pix Monday night!

What's Growing On in Your Garden?

2011-05-14T08:11:00.000-07:00

The daffodils and hyacinths are spent, and my three crabapples put on a colorful, albeit brief, show of exuberant spring color. Serviceberry, dogwood and apple flowers still shroud the yard in white, and we await the main show of mountain laurel and rhododendron with bated breath!

In the meantime, here's what's growing in the garden.

Azaelas here come in three colors: chartreause.....

...salmon and....

pure white.

Here is some blue milkweed, which soon will offer up some lovely blue, star-shaped flowers atop grass-like fronds three or four feet high. This is a really under-utilized perennial; I'm not sure why, but I think it's lovely.The foliage reminds me very much of weeping willow leaves. Once established, I find it does slowly spread, but that just means there's more to dig up and plant in other places.

My massive doublefile viburnum always blooms in a way that enhances its distinct appearance, from the outside in.

This blue hosta pairs nicely with lungwort (pulmonaria).

Japanese black pine closeup. It's so rewarding to see a tree seedling you planted really take off.

The cones are much more attractive than the barrel-shaped cones of the Eastern white pine. It took 15 years for this pine to grow about 18 feet tall. That's more than a foot a year, which seems like a lot for an evergreen.

Here are some morels, growing right in my front yard....or are they the poisonous, false morel? Don't worry, I won't eat them!

What's growing in your yard?

Tongue-Tied Tuesday

2011-04-05T17:25:00.000-07:00

Major Snow Melt in Progress

2011-02-18T08:12:00.000-08:00

With balmy, nearly 60 degree weather in store for us today, I'm looking forward to significant progress in melting our waist-high snow here. Judging by the portion of picket fence now showing above the snow pack on the north side of my house, we lost about 10 inches of snow just yesterday, when temperatures reached into the 50s.

The bluebird box, mounted on a 6-foot-high pole, no longer looks like some sort of mouse house at ground level. In other words, you can see the pole now.

With all the white stuff on the ground, it's really hard to turn one's thoughts to spring, but the calendar tells me we are indeed headed in the right direction.

I don't usually say this sort of thing, but I'm quite happy to see my asphalt driveway.

It was just three or four days ago when, after attending to roof snow removal, ice dam removal, and keeping the driveway just barely passable, I found time to tackle the front stairs leading to the main entrance.

Owl Hollow did not escape the winter unscathed. We experienced water leaks against the south wall of the house when ice dams became so backed up the water had nowhere to go but inside the wall. This caused paint to blister, wallpaper to come up and walls to wrinkle and crack inside two closets and adjacent walls.

An initial estimate for repairs I got from someone I met at a local Home Show was ridiculously overpriced, so I will be looking around for an honest workman who can do wood paneling inside two closets, a project that needed to be done all along but which is now even more of a certainty; I think I can manage the more minor damage outside the closets by doing the compounding, sanding and repainting myself.

As for downed tree branches, a recurring event, we only had one white pine branch come down; it appears manageable with my trusty bow saw. The solar lighting has been buried for months; I hope they still work when exposed to daylight.

Getting Into the Autumn Spirit

2010-10-24T15:54:00.000-07:00

It's been over a month since my last post. My apologies, to any of my regular readers. After a full year of unemployment, I started a full-time, 3-month assignment which hopefully will become permanent at year's end.

So now that I'm "back to the grind," my weekends are even more precious than usual. With the nice weather we had for the past few days, I was in the mood to do something "seasonal" yet local. (My commute makes local activities much more desirable.)

So a friend and I dropped in at Hollandia Nursery in Bethel to admire both the Halloween (30% off a week before Halloween!) and Christmas decorations.

From there we moved on to Shakespeare Gardens in Brookfield (the former Burr Farm). The gardener there has a flair for re-purposing old items for use as planters, be they old wash basins or bicycles. Here are a few of their many planters favoring succulents.

And another...

They also have an assortment of stone plaques with bits of gardening-related poetry inscribed on them. They're meant to be propped up in the garden, something that's done very nicely at the Garden of Ideas in Ridgefield.

We really dallied in the lovely gift shop; there were so many things I admired there, and I did end up buying a creamy orange pumpkin covered with warts (the best kind!) along with a ceramic pot that looks like an artichoke, and 3 paperwhite bulbs to fill it.

By this time, it was well past lunch hour, so we headed back toward home for lunch at The Inn at Newtown. We got a coveted seat in front of the large window overlooking historic Main Street. We were able to watch the passers-by as we enjoyed our meal. I had the lobster corn chowder and my friend had the turkey/wild rice soup. We both ordered the grilled vegetables (zucchini, yellow squash and portabello mushroom) with goat cheese and balsamic vinegar. Mmmm.

Then we headed over to the library where I was able to catch up on the latest issue of the Newtown Bee, a subscription I let lapse when I was unemployed. Perturbed at having missed the Lutheran Church Harvest Festival on Saturday, I decided I should renew my subscription. I love the local church fairs, craft fairs and even the senior center sales with their hand-knitted and crocheted items and home-baked goods.

It was a nice afternoon.

The Monetary Value of This Year's Vegetable Garden

2010-09-18T16:43:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I pulled up the slowly fading pole beans, bell pepper plants and tomato plants, so I was able to crunch some numbers and tally up what my vegetable garden yielded this summer based on its monetary value.

To calculate prices for my organic produce, I used prices for organic produce at the grocery store I shop at most regularly...Shop Rite. In three cases (string beans, spaghetti squash and raspberries) I could not find an organic equivalent, so I used non-organic prices.

As for the raspberries, what I harvested on my property in July are actually wineberries, but they're very similar to raspberries, so I used Shop Rite's price for raspberries to calculate their value. I've never seen wineberries for sale, anyway.

And although I picked enough basil to make 12 servings of pesto sauce, I ddn't bother to estimate a price for this. Nor did I bother to price the 9 miniature ornamental gourds I grew, just for fun.

But here's what I did count, ranked by order of greatest dollar value first:

Wineberries: These grow in wild profusion in the backyard. Last year, I only picked 2 3/4 cups of berries, enough to enjoy on my breakfast cereal for a few weeks.This year, I got more serious, picking nearly every day during the month of July. (One benefit of unemployment is time.)Those I didn't use immediately, I froze for winter use.

This year, I picked 39.5 cups, or 316 oz., of berries. Shop Rite charges a pricey $3 for a teeny 6 oz. container of non-organic raspberries, so at a value of $157, the wineberries proved to be my most valuable "crop." Ironically, it's the only one I didn't actually plant.

Tomatoes: If you grow your own food, you'll remember that last year was a bad one for tomatoes. Last year, I got just 45 cherry tomatoes and 25 regular tomatoes at an estimated value of $20. This year, my 5 plants did much better, yielding 152 tomatoes weighing 48.35 pounds with a value of $144.56 ($2.99 a lb, organic).

Zucchini: Last year, I picked just 5 zucchini, perhaps because I didn't try hand-pollinating the blossoms. This year, I did hand-pollinate and I was rewarded for my effort with 26 zucchinis weighing about 55 pounds and worth $109 ($1.99 a lb, organic).

So to recap, wineberies, tomatoes and zucchini were my most valuable crops. After that, the monetary value of my produce drops considerably.

Cucumber: After being completely overwhelmed by too many cucumbers last year (50), I limited myself to just 2 vines this year and ended up picking 13 cukes worth a total of $25, based on organic prices ($2 ea, organic).

Spaghetti squash: These take up a lot of room; I picked just 4 squash weighing nearly 15 pounds in total with a non-organic value of $22.

Salad greens: There was some guesswork involved here, but I ate 17 large bowls of salad greens worth about $20 based on organic prices, conservatively ($6 a lb, organic).

String beans: I tried growing pole beans this year instead of last year's bush beans. I picked 11 pounds of beans with an estimated non-organic value of $14.19.

Acorn squash: I picked 5 acorn squash weighing in at 6.5 pounds, with an organic value of $13.

Red and russet potatoes: I had only enough room for 2 6-foot long rows of potatoes. My disappointing harvest of just 6 pounds of potatoes, compared to last year's 11-pound harvest, convinced me that with an organic value of just $7, it really wasn't worth it to devote so much space to this veggie. (However, potatoes are among the most heavily sprayed vegetables, so avoiding pesticide residue bears some consideration.) Some of the potatoes had to be thrown away as moles, which devastated my lawn, apparently also liked to nibble on tubers.

Bell pepper: I have yet to have a bumper crop of bell peppers, but I did manage to pick 6 this year (5 last year) from 4 plants (!) for a total value of $2.38.

Grand total: $515.13

After subtracting $86.01 in expenses (primarily for seeds, seedlings, horse manure and a few more metal fence posts), my net profit is in the neighborhood of $429.

Compare that to last year's negative net profit of $222, primarily due to the cost of my 6-foot-high deer fencing and fence posts ($288). I also picked far fewer wineberries last year, and this is my most valuable crop.

Thoughts for next year:

Vining squashes take up a lot of valuable room in my small garden, so I'll ditch the spaghetti squash (though they were fun to prepare and eat) but keep the acorn squash. I'll go with 3 cucumber vines for a happy medium and ongoing supply (but not too much) of cucumbers for my salads. I'll skip potatoes entirely (don't eat much of 'em anyway) and think about trying corn and sunflowers.

The Waning Days of Summer

2010-09-05T15:51:00.000-07:00

I haven't posted much in the way of gardening news in the last few weeks. That's partly because my vegetable garden has been on auto pilot for the most part, aside for my periodically running the soaker hose during the really hot spells.

The vegetable garden is winding down now; I pulled out all the squash plants, overwhelmed with squash vine borers and powdery mildew, a week or so ago. The tomatoes and string beans are still coming, and I have three or four green bell peppers ready for the picking. The freezer is packed with blanched zucchini, string beans, spaghetti squash and tomato sauce.

In a few weeks, I'll be posting my final tally for the estimated market value of all my vegetable produce. I've done a preliminary calculation and I must say it's pretty impressive for a small garden-for-one.

There have been two other things distracting me from my gardening for the past month. First, during the past 6 weeks, I've been helping a neighbor prepare for a garage sale, and this weekend was the sale. She did pretty well, taking in about $300; I brought a few of my things over as well and was perfectly pleased to earn about $27. Two of my neighbor's other friends came by for a time, along with the guy who cuts her lawn, who happens to be a friend of mine.I hadn't talked to him in about three years, so we spent most of today catching up while we sat in at the garage sale.

All I can say is, it was a tremendous amount of work, sorting, organizing and pricing items, dragging items out of the house, tending to the sale both days this weekend, and then repacking unsold items for Good Will, the local senior center and the landfill. I also dragged a few things down to the roadside and was pleased that most of it was scooped up by passer-bys.

The other item demanding my attention was my job search. After a long hiatus of nothing shaking on the job front, I interviewed for two different job in the past two weeks and believe it's possible I could get an offer from either or both of them. I hope to have some definitive news in the next week and am crossing my fingers after many months of total inactivity.

The waning days of summer and cooler weather are always a bittersweet time for me. Perhaps it's the signal of the end of one season nearing and another, less welcome, one approaching that often makes me feel a little melancholy this time of year.

I am already preparing for the winter season. I had my furnace tuned up and filled up the oil tank last month. Last week, I had a very worthwhile home energy audit done for just $50. It was amazing to me how effectively the blower door test revealed invisible air leaks throughout my home. Where was the biggest leak? The door that leads to my walk-up attic. All leaks found were addressed before retesting so as to gauge the degree of improvement achieved by caulking and weatherstripping. I'd highly recommend a home energy audit to anyone considering one.

Yesterday's haul

2010-08-22T06:33:00.000-07:00

My cornucopia

I used my bicycle basket to gather all the veggies. It's pretty deep. Although you don't see all the string beans here, I collected a full pound of 'em, plus cucumbers that are mostly hidden from view.

I spent some time yesterday cooking a 4-pound spaghetti squash in the microwave. After it cooled, I used a fork to tease the strands of squash free from the rind and filled two quarter-sized freezer bags with it.

My freezer "larder" is becoming quite full with excess from the garden, including that spaghetti squash, tomatoes, chunks of zucchini and wineberries.

There's a nearby farm where someone I know invited me to help myself to the (organic!) peaches growing there (on a single tree). I collected a small bag of moldy, green and hard peaches last week. I dropped them on the kitchen counter and forgot about them for a week.

I checked on them yesterday and they were suddenly very ripe. Two had to be thrown away. I decided to adapt my late grandmother's recipe for apple crisp, substituting the peaches and a bag of frozen wineberries I'd collected in July. The peach skins, partly covered with unappetizing black spots, had to be skinned, and I did find one small worm crawling up my hand as I washed them. It was a messy job, but one doesn't come across organic peaches that often.

The peach/wineberry crisp, however, turned out great and was well worth the effort. I like to add raisins and walnuts to the oatmeal mix.

Floral Scanner Art

2010-08-02T07:06:00.000-07:00

I've been interested in trying my hand at scanner art for a long time. I've seen some beautiful "floralscapes" that are arranged and composed en masse on the top of a flatbed scanner. I picked this Queen Anne's Lace flower by my mailbox. I figured it would work well because it's fairly two-dimensional. (Daisies and asters would work well, too, I think.)

Isn't it pretty?

Here's what the same flower looks like with a black cloth draped on top of it.

The stem is not actually attached. I cut it so the flower would lay flat, and then added the stem below it.

If this is what a single flower looks like, imagine how great a small bouquet of blooms would look, carefully arranged (face-down) on the scanner glass.

I'm So Berry Happy

2010-07-22T13:34:00.000-07:00

That's because I've picked 32 cups of wineberries in July.

It's a brief season, so I've been making a point to pick at least 2 cups nearly every day. I always save a quarter cup of so for my breakfast cereal, but I freeze the rest and anticipate enjoying organic, homegrown berries all winter long.

It's a simple three-step process. After picking about 2 cups of berries, I put them in a screened basket and rinse them well under the faucet. A colander would do just fine. Then I shake them so they're evenly covering the screened basket and I put them, with a tray underneath to catch drips, in front of one of my floor fans which are constantly running in this hot weather.

Once they're dry, I gently drop the berries into the tray, making sure to wipe it dry before doing so. Then in it goes in the freezer. After a few hours, I'll take them out and store the frozen berries into zip-lock sandwich bags. This way, I only need remove a small amount of berries at any one time. When I use them for my breakfast cereal, there's no need to dethaw them; they warm up quickly.

In other news, I found the large, plump woodchuck near one of the burrows, dead as a doornail. I think it likely, given the recent sighting of the coyote pup, that a coyote, perhaps the pup's mother, killed the woodchuck. I should have buried it, but it smelled pretty bad, and flies were buzzing around it. In fact it was that dead animal smell that led me to look for the source of that odor. So I've just avoided the spot. Pretty soon it'll be history.

I must admit to feeling some relief, as I hoped I could perhaps now be woodchuck-free for at least the rest of this season. I was relaying the news about the woodchuck to my father yesterday on the phone. Just a few hours later, I spotted a baby woodchuck in the backyard. That's a really big disappointment. Maybe the coyotes will return again, since I've seen their scat, with wineberry seeds, in prominent spots in the side yard, including on top of a rock under the hemlock tree.

Thinking About All the Lovin' Spoonfuls to Come

2010-07-13T17:27:00.000-07:00

Spaghetti Squash on the Vine

Zucchini

Wineberries

Current garden pickings include zucchini and wineberries, which grow in abundance in the back of my property. How much I pick is limited only by my energy level on a given day. Of course, I always don my hip boots, acquired for me by my sister as a (requested) birthday gift, as tick protection as I wade into the brambles.

I've picked about 12 cups of wineberries so far, rinsing, air drying and then freezing most of them for winter use on my breakfast cereal. The season is brief, lasting only a few weeks.

I believe I'm up to about 8 or 9 zucchinis picked, with many given away.

There are 4 or 5 spaghetti squash like the first image above forming like fat loaves of bread on the hay. They can't be picked until they mature in the fall and turn yellow. Right now, they're a virginal shade of white.

I'm waiting (not so patiently) for tomatoes, string beans, acorn squash, cucumbers and potatoes.

Like last year, I'm tracking everything I harvest so that I can ultimately estimate with a fair degree of accuracy the retail value of my organic produce, based on what Shop Rite would charge for the equivalent in the store.

Thank god for today's rain; it was so needed. My soaker hose, which allows water to trickle into the ground slowly instead of splashing the leaves, inviting disease, burst a small pinhole into a much bigger hole. I bought a repair kit but haven't gotten around to using it yet. I also had a plumber over here today to fix a leaky fitting on my water tank, which supplies the well water for my outdoor water use. (It doesn't supply drinking water anymore as it's a shallow well and i have since hooked up to municipal water supply.) The bill was $192. Ouch. But now I can water my garden again without that well pump cycling on and off every 2 minutes.

Are Coyotes Denning in My Yard??

2010-07-08T08:04:00.000-07:00

It's not quite 10:30 a.m. It's an overcast, dank and humid day.

I just saw a coyote pup in my yard.

As is often the case, my cat Luther's behavior as he looked out the window caught my attention. I thought it was perhaps a catbird in the mulberry tree, but when he jumped off the bench in front of one window and jumped on a chair at the other window, I knew it must be something good.

As we both peered out the window, I caught sight of a very small coyote pup grabbing a green apple that had fallen from the apple tree. He gnawed at it a bit, then hurried on, looking like he was exploring/foraging.

See his head in the grass, to the left of the thick mountain laurel trunk?

But where was Mom? And should he be exploring on his own? How far had he ventured from his den?

I lost sight of him after he trotted over to a brushy area on the north side of the house, not 10 feet or so from one of the three woodchuck burrows I'm aware of on my property.

Yes, there are three burrows: the oldest one is behind a thicket of overgrown forsythia on the south side of the house. I went to considerable trouble in April to severely cut back the forsythia, and now that I see how quickly it's recovered, I regret not pulling it up completely, but of course there was the question of what to do with that space so it wasn't simply overtaken by weeds or brush. The second burrow, the newest one, lies six feet from the north side of the house (!) in another admittedly overgrown area bordered by a waist-high picket fence. It's the area that always comes last on my list because of its large size. The third burrow is also on the north side of the house, about 25 feet further from the house.

The north side, it seems, has become a little Shang-gri-la for critters, as it contains a productive apple tree that drops fruit from June through fall, a gooseberry patch and a mulberry tree.

But back to the woodchuck burrows. In an effort to get the woodchuck moving on somewhere else, I threw used cat litter into each of the 6 burrow holes. (There's always a front door and a back door for each burrow.) I did that the day before I left to visit my father in New Jersey, and I haven't seen the woodchuck since. It's possible it's still around, as I haven't been outside much due to the extreme heat. But now I'm wondering if a coyote discovered the abandoned burrow and adopted it as her own.

Some quick research on coyote ways told me that coyotes will den in a rock pile or hollow tree, but sometimes enlarge the burrow of another animal. And that there are usually three to nine pups to a litter. I am going to have to go outside and look for scat.

Much as I enjoy wildlife, I feel more than a little uncomfortable at the thought of coyotes possibly living so close by. I've always known they were in the neighborhood. They killed the dog of my neighbors who live behind me. Maybe once a week I'll hear them barking and yipping late at night, but they seemed to stay up higher on the hillside behind my house.Well, there was that time (noted on this blog) about a month ago that I spotted an adult coyote, during daylight hours, passing through the extreme rear of my property in back.

My other neighbors, next door, just acquired a goat.

Every once is a while, you hear a news story about a coyote attacking a small child or pet. I just started berry-picking at dusk along the perimeters of my yard. The wineberries have begun to ripen. I stand 5'4". I hope I'm big enough to dispel any coyote thoughts of an attack. I think now I'll limit my berry-picking to daylight hours.

UPDATE: An hour after I posted this, I went downstairs to make myself an early lunch. Guess who had returned to eat more apples? The coyote pup. He ate a lot of them. I watched him for as long as he was out there, until he walked past the burrow and up a narrow path. From there, his travels were lost to my view.

The Arboretum at Georgian Court University

2010-07-01T17:36:00.000-07:00

My dad and I had occasion to visit the arboretum at Georgian Court University yesterday. Located on the grounds of the former winter home of George Jay Gould, millionaire son of railroad tycoon Jay Gould, the school is located in the Pine Barrens town of Lakewood, New Jersey.

The style of the buildings, grounds and statuary is that of an English estate of the Georgian period.

This is the Apollo Fountain, a birthday gift from George to his wife, Edith Gould.The statue depicts Apollo riding a chariot amid sea horses, cherubs and fish. Water for this fountain and others on the school campus are turned on only for special occasions and is drawn from nearby Lake Carasaljo.

This ornate, marble bench is in the Renaissance style. It's a copy of ones found at the Vatican Gardens.

The sunken garden and lagoon, which is fed by the lake, features four eight-foot marble urns on either side of the road. A pair of lions flanks the entrance.

Dear old Dad strikes a pose.

The statuary and grounds distracted us for a while, but what we really came to see was the dimunitive Japanese Garden. Just one acre in size, it featured some lovely, bonsai-like Japanese maples (Acer palmatum), weeping Higan Cherry and paperbark maple (Acer griseum) to form exquisite views at every turn.

A small footbridge with Japanese yew.

These Japanese maples have leaves with a fern-like appearance.

A Japanese teahouse can be seen in the background.

Careful pruning encourages a gnarled look to the branches and an ancient, windswept appearance.

On the way out, the local population of geese seemed unfazed by anxious drivers.

With school in recess, we had the place to ourselves and came away with a colorful booklet detailing the history of the arboretum. There is no charge for admission. It was a great trip and an unexpected find on the New Jersey shoreline.

Monday Musings

2010-06-28T15:54:00.000-07:00

A good investment

Alas, my plans to paint the tool shed are temporarily in abeyance. As I approached the tool shed to inspect its condition a few days ago, a little house wren popped its head out of the bird house I'd forgotten was nailed onto the front wall. She has little ones in there, so there will be no painting until they've fledged. Case closed.

Not a lot of gardening has been going on in this wretched heat and humidity. A little weeding, a little pruning. A few forays down to the vegetable garden in early morning to see if there are any female squash blossoms I can hand-pollinate. So far, I've had only male blossoms, which I'm told is not unusual early in the season. I'm not confident that local pollinators can do the job without me as I've had very poor fruit production on my squashes in previous years, despite excellent plant growth. So, around 6 a.m. on most mornings, you can find me traipsing down to the veggie patch, q-tip in hand to do some in vitro fertilization. I have such high hopes for my zucchini, spaghetti squash and acorn squash!

I have seen blossoms on the potatoes and bell peppers as well. The tomato plants have small green tomatoes but nothing yet on the pole beans or cucumber plants. The pole bean tendrils have already topped the 6-foot-high tripods I erected in spring and they have nowhere to go!

The apple tree outside my office window is steadily raining down green apples that are now the size of jumbo clementines. A doe arrives nightly at dusk. If I sit quietly on my front stoop, I can here the sound of her teeth crunching on those apples. I've also spotted squirrels and the resident woodchuck grab the prized fruit.

Last night, the coyotes were making a ruckus. What makes them bark and yip and carry on so late at night? Me wonders.

I never got around to establishing a compost pile this year, something I regret each time a plum pit or watermelon rind goes in the trash. I don't have a container, so it would have to be a freeform pile which I fear would simply attract scavengers the way that apple tree does.

One of my two elephant ear plants grew a second, humungus leaf:

How cool, how tropical! I adore these elephant ears! I see all sorts of outdoor decorating possiblities for them. They are like the outdoor version of the ficus plant, I guess, useful for softening the hard edges of a stone wall or flanking either side of a pair of outdoor lounge chairs.

Miscellany & To Do List

2010-06-20T04:44:00.000-07:00

I have no "honey" living here with me, so instead of having a "Honey Do List," I keep a "Get Your Butt in Gear" list.

I've been thinking, for instance, that I should try to paint the tool shed this year.

I painted it oh, maybe 5 years ago (?) and at that time could tell it needed two coats, but I was tired of the job after the first coat and figured I could let it go. I only plan to paint it if I can use paint already sitting in the basement. I'm fairly sure I have more paint in the same colors as shown.

Also on my list is WEEDING the various beds in the back yard. They are quite overgrown. In danger of being wholly consumed, in fact. I've been spending most of my time in the front yard, which is more open and sunny. At times, I prefer the privacy of the back yard, but my neglect there is obvious now.

I cleaned out the second bluebird nest box now that the house wrens have flown. If you compare their coarse nest of branches and twigs to that of the tufted titmouse nest I cleaned out earlier this month, the difference is quite striking.

This is the house wren nest....

And here is the tufted titmouse nest...

The titmouse used moss and leaves, plus a bit of clear plastic, in its nest.

I have a pretty ground cover that grows easily among the cracks and crevices of my stone walls.

It's in bloom now, as you can see, but I've forgotten what it's called.

Here's a closeup:

And now for a bit of eye-popping color on this overcast day...

A One-Eared Elephant

2010-06-17T05:53:00.000-07:00

My elephant ears are growing very, very slowly. Is this normal?

I bought two tubers (bulbs?) from Wal-Mart in April and this one, watered nearly daily and kept in a shady spot that gets morning sun, has finally produced one giant "ear," which I think is quite lovely.

But I want more!

I pictured a profusion of lush, tropical-looking green leaves. The other elephant ear is still showing little sign of above-ground activity. When purchased, I couldn't tell which end was up on this tuber. So I planted it with a wing and a prayer. A week or so ago, feeling increasingly impatient that nothing seemed to be happening, I began digging up the soil around the tuber to see if perhaps I had planted it upside down. I saw a number of delicate, white roots just under the soil's surface, so I let it be and hope that this one will figure out how to reach the sun.

In other news, I noticed an interesting four-petal clematis in my garden the other day:

Pretty, isn't it?

Late Spring Cleaning

2010-06-13T07:19:00.000-07:00

The tufted titmouse that was nesting in the bluebird box has fledged its younster(s), so I decided to clean out the box in the hopes of getting another pair of birds in the box.

Here's what it looked like before I removed the nest.

There was even a strip of clear plastic you can see hanging out from the bottom of the nest. Here you can see a lot of white animal hair woven into the top. I regularly release the hair from brushing Luther and Waldo outdoors, but neither has white hair. I wonder if this was from a skunk.

A house wren has settled into the other nest box and has been feeding its voracious young for weeks.

Today is the kind of murky, dank day when I feel like doing nothing. The humidity's high, the air's not moving and the sky is sunless. It's hard to work up enthusiasm for gardening on this kind of day.

Here's the kind of delicious salad I've been eating these days. I used plentiful salad greens from my garden with strips of teriyaki chicken, a chopped hard-boiled egg, toasted sunflower seeds, tomato and cucumber. Yum.

An Abundance of Mountain Laurel & the Value of a Friend

2010-05-31T17:03:00.000-07:00

I counted 17 mountain laurel shrubs on my property today. Yup. Seventeen. It was easy to count them now, because they're in bloom. I never realized there were so many. I can't claim responsibility for planting them because they were all here when I moved in 15 years ago. There used to be 18, but, sadly, one died due to being completely shaded out by evergreens.

There are mountain laurels to the north...

...and to the south...

...to the east...

...and west...

This one is my favorite. Its flowers remind me up frosting on a pink cupcake. It has become dome-shaped, like many of my rhododendrons, due to deer grazing.

I asked an old friend of mine if he would help me change the battery in my lawnmower. It's a rechargeable Black & Decker with a battery that's lost its ability to hold a charge in this, its fourth mowing season. I really can't complain since I mow about an acre of my acre-and-a-half here.

My friend R. had indicated he might be able to come tonight. Instead, I received a phone call mid-day from F., an old friend of his, offering to come over and help with the mower. Though both F. and I have been friends with R. for over 20 years now, I never really knew F. and had only met him once or twice, years ago. Now he's living in my hometown, quite close by.

This is actually the second time he's been to my house. A month or so ago, I had a sudden, complete clog of my kitchen sink. While trying to loosen the pipe below the sink to clear the trap, a section of copper pipe came off in my hand, totally rusted through.

It all happened on a Friday, and I suffered through the inconvenience of washing dishes in the bathroom sink (and breaking a glass on the tile floor in the process) so I wouldn't have to pay top dollar for a plumber to come out on the weekend. Actually, since I've been out of work for months, I didn't relish paying a plumber at all, so I called my friend R. to see if he could help. He and his dad came over and spent some time on it, but the pipe replacement he attached still leaked. He left, but next day sent....you guessed it.... F.over to see if he could improve on R.'s work and still help me avoid a plumber. He did get the pipe replaced and installed properly, but the clog remained.

So I caved and called a plumber. I figured that while he was here, I might as well have him fix a leaky toilet that had been out of commission for over a year too, so the whole deal cost me $300 ($80 for the clogged sink). Most plumbers around here charge $100 an hour. And why did I get a college education?

So, back to the mower. After a few minor issues and a bleeding cut on his hand, F. got the battery in there and it's working fine. As before, he refused to let me pay him something for all his trouble. But R. must have told him I was a big gardener, because he asked me if I might have any bee balm. He enjoys watching the hummingbirds. I don't have bee balm, but I did have an extra hummingbird feeder, which I offered to him with instructions for sugar water-making. He accepted it as "payment," though Ron had a great idea that I plan to follow up on. I'll share some produce from my garden with him. My only concern is that F. won't be conscientious enough to change the sugar water every 3 or 4 days to prevent mold and possible sickness to any hummingbirds who drank it. I tried to impress upon him the importance of keeping that water clean.

I've been enjoying huge salads from my garden in the last few weeks. I imagine it will bolt soon. Tonight for dinner I had greens with toasted sunflower seeds and walnuts, cherry tomatoes, a sliced hard-boiled egg and teriyaki chicken slices from the most incredibly tender chicken breasts I discovered at Costco. They're pre-cooked, frozen, and take just 4 minutes in the microwave to heat up in the teriyaki sauce. Mmm, really good salad.

I usually add feta cheese or chopped cheddar, but I figured I had enough protein here. But guess what? I'm still hungry! Time for peanut brittle ice cream!

A Visit to the Bellamy-Ferriday House in Bethlehem

2010-05-29T12:54:00.000-07:00

Memorial Day weekend, the unofficial start of summer, seemed an appropriate time to knock off the first of at least four Connecticut gardens I've been wanting to visit this season.

We headed for the Bellamy-Ferriday House in nearby Bethlehem. To get there, we passed through Woodbury's antiques alley and then headed north on Rt. 61, a lovely secondary road that meanders through some pretty country. We were pleasantly surprised to see we had the place all to ourselves upon our arrival.

Thanks to an Entertainment Book coupon I had, admission for the two of us was just $4. We skipped the house tour and headed for the main attraction behind the house.

They may not be natives, but Chinese peonies do look lovely when planted en masse. I have fuchsia peonies in bloom now, but here at the garden, we also saw pink and white peonies.

Here's a view of the back of the house with the central garden.

Siberian iris lent striking bursts of color.

I was quite excited to see generous plantings of the mystery wildflower that is thriving in my lawn. Thanks to the plant ID cards, I learned it is Ragged Robin (Lychnis flos cuculi).

When it's done blooming, I think I'll transplant them to a sunny perennial bed. My research told me it's a European wildflower that has naturalized in the United States. It''s partial to damp or wet meadow, likes full sun and attracts butterflies.

I've been wanting to get some red coral honeysuckle for my garden. It's a native, non-invasive and attracts hummingbirds. I don't know if this is red coral though.

A vacant one-room building intersects a mowed walkway along the perimeter of the Bellamy-Ferriday property.

The Bellamy-Ferriday House is named after two different owners of the property who played a significant role in shaping its character. Joseph Bellamy was a local pastor and a leader of the Great Awakening religious movement in the 1740s and is the person responsible for building the house around 1754. Later, in 1912, New Yorker Elizabeth Ferriday and her husband, Henry, purchased the property as a summer home. It was the Ferridays' daughter, Caroline, who restored the house, filled it with antiques and maintained the beautiful gardens.

Lupine and white irises.

I always feel so inspired after visiting little gardens like this.I have so many perennials in need of dividing. But what I really need to do next is figure out how to replace the battery in my lawn mower!

Garden Impostors and Interlopers

2010-05-23T07:46:00.000-07:00

Let's take a walk in the garden and see what's blooming.

These ground phlox look lovely against the stone wall.

Here's another shot from the driveway.You can see some hyacinth leaves sticking up out of the phlox and behind them, astilbes.

Does anyone recognize these wildflowers? They've sprung up here and there in previous years and are quite delicate. I try to mow around them in the lawn.

The mountain laurel blossoms are ready to open.

Can you guess why this azalea has both pink and white flowers? Actually, there are two shrubs planted so closely together that the branches intertwine and appear as one.You might say they're garden impostors!

My many rhododendrons are in full bloom as well.

I have beautiful views of them from north, south, east and west-facing windows!

Here's another view of those ground phlox.

You can see a wayward basket of gold is growing from between the stones in the wall

and a fern has sprung up from a crack between the asphalt driveway and the stone wall.

I'm happy to report that everything I plan to eat this summer has been planted in the vegetable garden. The potatoes, both red and russet varieties, are already coming up and some have been mulched. I see no evidence of the terrible slug infestation I battled last year.

Tomato and bell pepper seedlings are in. I've been enjoying a variety of red and green lettuces here and there, and have also planted acorn, spaghetti and zucchini squash plants. I hope I'll have better luck with pollination this year.

Having loved my homemade pesto sauce so much last year, I bought five more basil plants this year and hope to freeze some.

Cucumber hills have been seeded as well as yellow and green string beans. I put up three tripod-like structures for the beans and some vining annuals, including rudbeckia, morning glory and, just for fun, some miniature Halloween gourds which will look nice filling a bowl this fall. The poles are made out of long branches I pruned from my burning bush in late winter. They stand 5 to 6 feet high.

Two Nights of Frost...Survived

2010-05-11T06:28:00.000-07:00

Waldo being silly.

Nothing escapes Luther's notice.

Just hangin' out.

Channel 8's meteorologist predicted possible frost these past two nights, so I covered up all the vegetable seedlings (lettuce, potatoes and squashes) with an assortment of buckets, flowerpots and trays each night, then uncovered them in the morning. It looked a little odd, but hey, it works.

I am hoping that particular chore is one I'm done with for the rest of the growing season, although I know it will remain chilly for the remainder of the week.

My frost indicator is the roof of my family room, which is clearly visible from my bedroom or upstairs bath windows. Yep, it appears we had a frost both nights, although somehow, a lone squash seedling yet to be planted in the ground, as well as two basil plants, were overlooked as I covered everything up last night but survived the frost seemingly none the worse for wear.

I'm also looking forward to the end of daily watering of newly planted grass. I think the end of the week will be the final week of such careful tending to.

I'm into my third week of Census work. I had a tough time of it yesterday. My assignment area was a neighborhood fronting the river, mostly vacation homes, where not only were half the homes unmarked, but many of the streets lacked street signs as well. Because it's a mostly seasonal community, there were few residents around whom I could use as a proxy for the vacation homes.

I was pleased to see that the two false indigo (baptista?) that I divided and transplanted last fall are alive and well in their new location. I had read on someone else's blog that this plant dislikes being moved and has a tap root, which can make dividing a bit tricky, but apparently what I did worked. I also see that one of my favorite plants, the blue milkweed, also divided and moved to a new location last fall, is already a foot high and the new plants have flower buds. I love those blue flowers. Very pretty.

A mulberry tree volunteer just a few years old has grown quite rapidly. It did not have many berries last year, so I'm hoping this year it will rally and go nuts.It's close to 20 feet high already. The gooseberry already has small green berries; I've checked it a few times for black inchworms which almost often time their arrival to devour all the new leafy growth, but so far haven't seen any.

The grass has been growing so rapidly that I've had a hard time keeping up with it. I can't let it get long because tall grass quickly drains the power out of the battery of my mower. It took me 4 consecutive days to mow the front lawn when it normally should take 2!. Today, I mow the back.

During my census work of recent weeks, I've visited many different homes. It is clear that the homeowners of some are simply too busy with work to tend to their yards; many have overgrown grass and shrubs. I take pride in keeping my place (relatively) tidy, and visiting other homes served as confirmation that I do indeed have a nice yard! It's always a work in progress, of course.

The Hummer(s) Have Returned

2010-05-08T07:08:00.000-07:00

Much is in bloom in May. The daffodils and crab apple blooms faded and gave way to pink and white dogwoods. Once they passed their peak, doublefile viburnum and azalea began dazzling the eye. (Still to come: mountain laurel and rhododendron.)

Doublefile viburnum in bloom
Little more than a two-foot-high stick when planted,
this doublefile grew quickly, reaching this size in about 8 years.

A closeup

White azalea in bloom
This shrub is about 6 feet high.
A vigorous grower, I often wonder how high it could get it I didn't prune it back.

A closeup

After a few weeks of faithfully refreshing the sugar water in the hummingbird feeder, I spotted a ruby-throated hummingbird at the feeder this past week. An old friend has returned.

I haven't been around Owl Hollow much to observe the goings on because I recently began working for the Census Bureau. I find the work very enjoyable. I can essentially make my own hours, I work on my own and I spend a lot of time tracking down addresses on streets and in neighborhoods I've never visited, even after 15 years in my hometown. I've enjoyed chatting with all sorts of people.

So, assorted projects at Owl Hollow have been put on hold for about six weeks, or until the Census work runs out. However, on the same day that I first saw the hummingbird, I also spied a lone coyote in the far corner of my yard. My neighbor lets his lawn go in that corner each year, and it was there that I saw the coyote from behind, quickly coarsing through tall grass. He paused and turned his head as if listening for something, then hurried on. It was mid-day on a sunny afternoon.

He's welcome to feast on the plenitude of field mice around here, as far as I'm concerned, though my neighbors who live behind me don't share my benign interest. A few years ago, coyotes killed their family pet. My neighbors live in the woods, and were in the habit of letting their two dogs, a German Shepherd and a retriever, out each morning while they got ready for work. One morning, the Shepherd returned without the other dog, and they found it later, not far away. The carcass had been fed on; they never heard a thing.

Wild turkeys have been frequent visitors this year. I often hear their baritone gobbling in the woods; at times, I'll look out the window and see a lone tom trodding regally across the lawn, perfecting his fan display and generally looking fine. At other times, I'll see a few hens preening themselves. Yesterday, I saw a turkey find a small spot of dry dirt near my vegetable garden. He rolled around in it, fanning up the dust through his feathers for insect control and looking very much like a dog rolling around in the grass.

There's danger of frost this Sunday and Monday nights, which means I'll have to spread the tarp, assorted flower pots and other impromptu frost-protection coverings those evenings and then take them off in the morning. It's tedious, but the 2-week head start I've gotten on spaghetti and acorn squash will be worth it in July when I'm enjoying these warm weather vegetables two weeks ahead of my neighbors!

How Owl Hollow Got its Name

2010-04-26T11:00:00.000-07:00

An old high school friend of mine was up visiting from New Jersey many years ago. She is an enthusiastic gardener and loves to get an outdoor tour of the garden when she's up.

While we walked around, she remarked, "Boy, you sure have a lot of birds around here."

"Yes," I agreed, "I like to feed them in summer because I get a lot of birds I don't see in winter."

We continued talking, and she confidently told me that where she lives in Rockaway, New Jersey, she has a lot of owls. I raised my eyebrows a bit, maybe because I know owls do not form flocks!

"Really?" I said. Do you see them?"

"No, but I hear them all the time."

Later in the day, we were outside again, and this time a pair of mourning doves cooed above us as they perched in the sugar maple.

"Fran, is that what the owls sound like at your house?," I asked.

"Yes, yes, that's it! Exactly like that," she said excitedly.

Trying not to smile too broadly, I gently explained that what she was hearing was mourning doves, not owls. I pointed to the tree branch above us.

Fran was visibly disappointed, but I have to admit to having a really good chuckle at her expense. In fact, the memory of this exchange makes me smile every time I think of it, and so I decided to name my property Owl Hollow, as a perennial tribute to my friend's lack of ornithological knowledge.

Juneberry Mystery

2010-04-21T06:32:00.000-07:00

Healthy June berry on left;

struggling June berry at right, with blue deer fencing.

This is a story of two juneberries, purchased at the same time about eight years ago from my favorite nursery, St. Lawrence, in upstate New York.

For most of their time here, both seedlings have languished. They survived, but despite various descriptions I've read of their "pest-free" disposition, they struggled with an annual, early spring infestation of small, black inchworms which used the leaves to wrap themselves tightly in pencil-shaped cocoons. This left the trees defoliated.

The seedlings remained stunted at about four feet high, small enough that I could painstakingly unwrap each leaf and hand-pick the worms. Still, the trees suffered.

Last year, one of the seedlings took off. I don't know what happened, but it experienced a growth spurt and actually now looks like an attractive young tree at about eight feet high. Yet the other seedling remains stunted.

Even more curious, last spring I found the stunted tree was again beset by those little black worms. The healthy tree was not, even while it stands just five feet away!

Yesterday, I noticed another oddity: The healthy tree is leafing out now, but its blossoms are still not ready to bloom. The stunted tree IS in bloom and has only a handful of its leaves unfurled. You would think both trees would follow the same pattern of either leafing out first, or blooming first.

This is the healthy tree, not at all ready to bloom
but sporting plenty of foliage.

This is the stunted tree, in full bloom but with just a handful of leaves unfurled.

What gives?

I have been watching both my bluebird boxes but have been somewhat concerned to see no activity. Imagine my surprise when I approached the one box and saw that it was so stuffed with nest building materials that it was actually pushing the front-facing door open at the bottom!

Still, I've seen no activity at the box. From the messy look of the nest, I'm guessing it's house wrens. I know that some birds build more than one nest and the female makes the final selection. I do hope this was not a reject nest.

Yesterday was another day of satisfying yard work achievements. I finished turning over sod where my expanded vegetable garden will be located, let the sun dry the overturned clods and, later in the day, began shaking out the loose soil, squashing cutworm grubs as I found them.

I also make good progress continuing to clear out invasives....Japanese barberry, Asian bittersweet and burning bush, mainly... on the north side, in the area where I discovered, rescued and fenced off two cherry tree volunteers. I think I also spotted at least one June berry volunteer and there are certainly more cherry tree seedlings in there. There's still much work to be done, but with shovel, loppers and a misplaced set of hand shears, I am making headway.

I also pulled out batches of garlic mustard as I found it. I've said before, simply controlling the spread of invasives could take up all my time in the yard. Sadly, it will be impossible to ever totally eradicate them.

Still no sign of returning hummers at the feeder. My first spring sighting last year was April 24...that will be this Saturday.

Ahh, so much to do. I have a corkscrew willow I want to transplant. I had planted two of them in an area that gets plenty of moisture, but not so much sun. They want more sun. I'm also itching to pull out another largish patch of pachysandra near the snowball hydrangea tree and sun room, but I will need things to plant there after the pachysandra comes out or I will have created yet another weeding chore for myself.

I'd like to finish up readying the expanded veggie garden and plant my potatoes and put up a second pole support for the beans. I saved some relatively straight, seven-foot-long pruned branches from my winter's work on the giant burning bush and found it fairly easy to create a tripod support for beans by tying the top ends together and sinking the ends in the ground.

Happy gardening!

Springtime Projects

2010-04-18T11:29:00.001-07:00

Peonies: Not a native, but still a trouble-free and attractive plant.

Soon, the peonies will fill out this garden bed.

Knowing that a rainy weekend was in the forecast, I set about last Thursday to finish one of my many current "projects:" raking out the area in front of the forsythia (a space about three feet wide and 20 feet long) to plant (horrors!) grass seed. The forsythia threatened to close off the walkway between them and the large rhododendron in the backyard.

So I pulled up the last of the expanding forsythia plants. (They came up more easily than expected when pulled by hand.) I used a hard rake to gather up all the cuttings on the ground, raked them onto a tarp and hauled away three tarp-fulls to a dumping area for brush behind the tool shed. It's not feasible nor practical to try to haul this little stuff to the landfill, not without a pickup, anyway.

Not wanting to chance sowing grass seed that wouldn't germinate (the stuff in my garage was dated 2001), I ran down to Ace for a new bag of the stuff, passing by the pricey Scott's grass seed for the more reasonably priced no-name variety ($6). Grass seed is grass seed, right? But Ace didn't have any hay bales, and since I have lots of birds around that will likely eat up that grass seed, I headed down to Agway for the hay bale ($9, ouch) and then to Ring's End, for 4 7-foot-high metal stakes, needed for my expanded veggie garden.

I got the grass seed down, and then the hay, spread thinly. I also reseeded a smaller area of lawn directly under the bird feeder. It wasn't the sunflower seed that killed the grass there, it was damaged when I had my brick patio expanded a few years ago. I thought weeds would just fill in the bare spots (as long as it's green), but that didn't really happen, so....

I also got my hummer sugar water feeder out and hanging. Seems to me I recall the male hummers returning as early as mid-April, and since it's still quite chilly these nights, I wanted to make sure the welcome mat was out and hanging when the little guys return. I just checked my Nature Journal...yup, in 2007, my first hummer sighting was on April 25.

I keep feeling like I am SO far behind on spring vegetable planting when I read other gardening blogs. (I have 49 bookmarked and usually go through all of them a few times a week....it's very inspiring.) However, I have to remind myself the average last frost date here in western Connecticut is May 15. I do plan, however, to plant my lettuce plugs and spinach tomorrow and hope for the best.

I'm not sure what others do, but on relatively warm days, I've been shuffling all my little seedlings outside to a sunny spot, then bring them back in at night before it gets too cold. It can be a little tedious.

The crab apples are ready to bloom.

Any day now...

While in Wal-Mart today, I spotted a cardboard bin of Elephant Ear tubers. This is something I wanted to try this year after seeing another blogger's photos. They look so lush and tropical. I don't think you can overwinter them, but I plan to investigate that at some point. So I bought two tubers for $3 each and hope to pot them up this week.

I am still on the hunt for reasonably-priced Fox Valley river birch and I wouldn't mind getting a native honeysuckle.

Woodchucks, Turkey & Manure, Oh My!

2010-04-13T10:30:00.000-07:00

This is the time of year I usually make my first woodchuck sighting. Sometimes, I see more than one.... babies. I've been figuratively holding my breath because I hadn't seen any. Until two days ago. Sigh. I spotted him off in the distance, foraging contentedly on my neighbor's lawn. Let's hope the furry guy stays there. In the woodchuck's eyes, I have already "ruined" two good burrows: one behind the massive thicket of forsythia I just recently hacked back, and one in a brushy area on the other side of the house which is now more exposed than before.

There was another, more welcome visitor to Owl Hollow yesterday. Luther and Waldo saw their first ever wild turkey, and he saw them as well. In fact, as they peered at him through the sun room windows, Luther's tail a twitching wildly, the not diminutive-sized turkey approached the windows as close as five feet, clucking and tilting his head this way and that. Was he trying to determine if the cats were a threat? Was he just curious? I guess I can't know for sure, but after a good 10 minutes of clucking on the one side and twitching on the other, he pecked at a few sunflower seed shells below the bird feeder and then ambled up the back slope, eventually hopping a stone wall and disappearing into the neighbor's yard.

This past weekend, I headed down to the Second Company Governor's Horse Guard for some free manure. I grabbed 2 or 3 buckets as I headed out the door and had to ask at the stables where the manure was piled. I followed a paved road past the fields.

The road soon deteriorated into a badly gullied gravel road which led me to a massive pile of aged manure so high it completely shielded from view the other gardeners and their cars. The manure, I was told, was five years old, and I couldn't believe how great it looked: rich, dark loam with no odor and no indication it had ever been manure. This stuff is black gold!

One of the volunteers invited me to come back for more, and indeed, I made two more trips with more buckets, my recycling container, a cement mixing basin and as many other receptacles as I could fit in my car. It was well worth the small donation they asked for!

I have started expanding my vegetable garden. When finished, it will expand my space by approximately 50%. Right now, I'm turning over sod and letting the sun dry it out before shaking out all the dirt. It's back-breaking work.

But I had another thought. Now that I'm done cutting back the forsythia...

...the next step there is to rake out the new space now covered in debris and pruned branches. I never thought I'd hear myself saying this, but I want to plant grass (!) in that area to widen the pathway between the forsythia and the rhododendron.

I test-planted a handful of grass seed I had on hand to see if it would sprout. I'm embarrassed to say the seed is from 2001, so I'm guessing it won't germinate too well. But a quicker way toward a green lawn would be to simply dig up the sod from my expanding vegetable garden, drop it in pieces into the wheelbarrow and bring it to the southwest corner where the forsythia are. It will help me accomplish two purposes more quickly.

In the meantime, I'm trying to get through my inaugural mowing, but I forgot that my battery-operated mower (yes, my third season using it on 1.5 acres) doesn't do well with high, dense grass, and while at least 50% of my "lawn" is a variety of wild violets and other "weeds," there are some areas of lawn that are already overgrown grass. The mower konks out and and the total amount of lawn area I get cut is drastically reduced. So this was my second day of mowing and still I'm not done with the front yard.

One of my weaknesses is wandering around the yard, discovering some little "project" that needs doing, and dropping other things already in progress to tend to the new chore. Such was the case yesterday when I observed bittersweet and multi-flora rose taking over my clethra (summersweet), over by the back corner of the tool shed. So, donning Deet-sprayed, knee-high rubber boots but forgetting my gloves(!!), I waded into the overgrowth, clipping things as I went to clear a tick-free path for myself in order to access the clethra. I ran into bittersweet everywhere, yanking things out for some time before noticing something burgundy-colored and ominous sending six-inch shoots straight up out of the leaf litter. Poison ivy! Despite washing my hands with Tec-Nu (which I highly recommend), I already have some spots rising on my skin, but that, I'm pretty sure, is from an earlier exposure when I cleared the brush from around my cherry trees. (I was wearing gloves then!)

I did a decent, but not complete job of clearing some of the vines away. Unfortunately, some of them were growing right at the bases of the clethra, and digging them out would injure the clethra. It would also require me to crawl in there and brush my head against all sorts of stuff, and I'm too tick-paranoid to do that.

I note with some satisfaction that the clethra is spreading.

The Wild Garden

2010-04-06T07:38:00.000-07:00

Doesn't everyone have some corner of their yard that resists all attempts to tame and control? Like an unruly child, my 'wild garden' requires constant vigilance, and while it stubbornly demands my attention with threats of truly returning to the wild, I have yet to coax it into submission, even after 15 years at Owl Hollow.

I spent a good part of yesterday pulling out thorny brambles that had a field day last summer as they spread throughout this wild garden of mine, a 20 x 40 foot fenced-in plot on the north side of the house. It's always the last priority, after mowing, weeding and tending to other perennial beds and general yard work. And last year, for the first time, I didn't touch it at all. My experience with Lyme Disease (twice) has made me very cautious about tangling with overgrown areas that brush against your arms or sides, or gets in your hair.

But... this seemed like a good time to do battle with the brambles, as they're just starting to leaf out. Wait much longer and they'll be too much to handle.

Even wearing a double set of work gloves didn't prevent me from absorbing an invisible pricker in my finger, right at the get go. Still, I worked on, systematically trimming back the long, arcing branches, then using a shovel to bring the bramble up from the soil, then yanking it free at the roots with my (gloved) hands.

As I worked, the builder who did such a nice job with my sun room last year made a surprise appearance after being a no-show this past weekend, so since he was working in the same area as me, we chatted as we worked. I'm paying him to reposition the outlet pipe from my sump pump to allow for better drainage. I also asked him to block off two old, below-grade window wells with cinder blocks and cement.

Back to the wild garden. I have a host of nice plants in there, but it all gets so overgrown with weeds each summer it just gets beyond me. I'm thinking I might be better off to plant grass in and around what's there now, and just plan on maintaining it by mowing. Ironically, there was a beautiful bed of grass there when I bought the place, but I set about to dig it all up immediately because I had the naive notion that, already fenced in, it lent itself to becoming a picturesque, idyllic garden.

Here's what's growing there now: 5 high bush blueberry, 3 "dwarf" cherry trees (now in bloom and about 10 feet high), a large willow shrub that needs shaping, a spreading gooseberry, a rapidly growing mulberry tree (a volunteer from a few years ago), lady's mantle, bleeding heart, columbine, hostas, astilbe, Jacob's ladder and wild oats that are showing signs of becoming invasive. Most anything I plant there seems to thrive, maybe a little too much.

Years ago, I laid a rectangular brick walkway about 2 feet wide, planting shade-loving perennials outside the walkway. They enjoyed the shade cast by the house and 2-story high rhododendrons. On the inside of the walkway went the cherry trees, a bird bath and assortment of other things over the years, including some asparagus that I believe has finally been wiped out by the ever-expanding willow. However, the waist-high picket fence doesn't deter deer or woodchucks and, being on the north side, not all portions of the spot get as much sunlight as would be desirable.

It just seems like one invasive or another gets in there and tries to take over. For a while, the black-eyed Susies were really spreading, though I didn't mind that too much. Last year, the brambles made their move and I see now, too, that the vinca, which I accidentally transplanted when I moved a sedum from elsewhere, has taken over an incredible expanse of land in a very short time. Complicating matters is the large bed of adjacent, mature pachysandra which regularly creeps into the fenced area in its own quest for expansion. I've tried sinking tin flashing along the fence line, the kind used on roofs, by digging a trench about 6 inches deep and burying the flashing as a barrier against the spreading pachysandra, but it hasn't worked.

Elsewhere in the yard, I regularly battle the ugly garlic mustard with the tiny white flowers, along with the ever-present Asiatic bittersweet. I'd hate to see either make a foothold in my wild garden. As for the wild oats, well, they look nice, but they're a mess to clean up in spring, as all the dead foliage needs to be raked up and hauled out of there. And they may provide attractive
shelter for mice, something I'd like to discourage since one side of the wild garden lies just six feet from the foundation of the house (and yes, I do get mice in the basement each winter).

If anyone has any suggestions for how to tame this wild garden, I'd be glad to hear it. I'm looking for a lower maintenance way to grow this garden. I'd love something manicured and "tidy," though experience tells me that may be unrealistic.

Happy Easter

2010-04-04T14:37:00.001-07:00

My Heart Went Pileat-Patter

2010-03-18T06:38:00.000-07:00

Bird activity has certainly picked up here at Owl Hollow. This morning it was a flock of robins investigating the lawn that's becoming greener by the day.

I thought I'd seen it all here when it comes to bird sightings. Everything from rufous-sided towhees, lovely blue birds and Baltimore Orioles to wild turkeys, scarlet tanagers, rose-breasted grosbeaks, hummers, thrushes, yellow warblers and two that always wow me, the black and white warbler and indigo bunting.

For years, I volunteered with Project Feeder Watch, monitoring the population fluctuations and species diversity of North American songbirds in my own backyard. But after 15 years at Owl Hollow, I really wasn't expecting to see something new.

Until this morning.

As I watched the robins, my eyes caught a flash of something large coming to perch on a large branch of the giant sugar maple. Uh-oh, I thought, another Cooper's hawk come to pick off one of the birds at my feeders. The bird was partially obscured and appeared to be walking on the side of a horizontal branch. I caught sight of the red head. Oh, I said to myself, it's just a red-bellied woodpecker looking for insects. I often see them here. Then it took wing. It all happened so fast, but by golly, I do believe it was a pileated woodpecker. It was too large to be a red-bellied woodpecker, and I've never seen a hawk with a red head!

It flew to the rear of my yard and was gone. I feel so honored to have seen a pileated in my backyard! It makes all these years of working to create a suburban wildlife habitat worthwhile.

I saw a pair of pileated woodpeckers a few years ago not far from here; in fact, you might say it was an adjacent patch of woods, just over the hill from me near the dairy farm. At the time, I was taking a walk; the crow-sized birds seemed spooked by my presence.

In other news, I found the remains of what I believe was a skunk on the sheltered south side of the house.

(What else has a striped black and white tail?) The strange thing is that I found a similarly dead skunk a number of years ago very close to where I found this one. It was maybe 10 feet away on the same patch of lawn, under the shade of a large white pine. Is there something inviting about this sheltered spot that beckons the old or sick to lie and rest a while?

One of my spring rituals is hanging an onion bag full of cat hair outside for birds seeking to line their nests with something soft.

Luther is a prolific shedder and has, in fact, taken advanced coursework in the field. So I expect to find his soft orange hair lining the nests inside the bluebird and wren boxes later this year. Now that's the ultimate in recycling!

Late Winter Cedar Waxwing Sighting

2010-03-17T05:07:00.000-07:00

I was washing dishes at the kitchen sink this morning when I saw a lot of flying birds flitting in and out among the maple leaf viburnums in the back. Since I've noticed the birds largely ignore those clusters of large, red berries all winter long, I was naturally curious who was finally going at those delectables with gusto.

I had a hunch, and once I grabbed the binoculars, I found I was right: a flock of cedar waxwings was gorging on those berries. They were moving around so quickly, it was hard to count them, but using my best Project Feeder Watch skills, I quickly guessed there were 7 or 8 of them.

Then something must have spooked them (could it have been me in my red flannel PJs peering through the window?) for they flew off to the upper branches of a nearby sugar maple. Downhill from their perch, their pale yellow bellies were illuminated by the rising eastern sun. I counted 36 of them! I feel as though I've won the lottery!

I've checked on them every 5 minutes or so, but they are still perched in the maple. Perhaps a neighbor's cat was attracted by all the commotion.

I'm really diggin' all the great weather forecast for the week Well, I haven't started digging yet. My yard and gardens are far too wet for any of that. Yesterday I loaded up my trunk with Honda-sized branches and headed for the landfill. It's a tedious process cutting everything up to 3-foot-long pieces, but being unemployed, well, let's say I have time to kill. I made a small dent in the growing mass of pruned mountain laurel, rhododendron, forsythia, butterfly bush, white pine and burning bush that have accumulated in the driveway during the past month.

Water, Water Everywhere

2010-03-14T12:58:00.001-07:00

The nor'easter that swept up the Atlantic coast arrived here yesterday morning. By late afternoon, light rain had given way to a steady downfall and the wind picked up as the storm collected itself into a force to be reckoned with. Wind-whipped rain pelted the house all through the night, and the wind gusts, up to 60 miles per hour, rattled the wood shutters and made it impossible to sleep.

I know that some people like storms, but I'm not one of them. Will I lose power? There were over 90,000 Connecticut residents who did. Or worse, will the wind send a white pine limb crashing into the house? These are the thoughts that go through my head.

Owl Hollow is situated toward the lower end of a hill. The front yard slopes downward and then levels out; the back yard is level for about 30 feet from the house; beyond that, the incline becomes much steeper and continues upward another 100 feet until leveling out. This topography, combined with a seasonal high water table, has always meant water "issues" here.

In the basement, I have French drains. (The concrete is cut out around the perimeter of the walls and gravel-filled to collect water.) I don't get a wet basement in the way that some homeowners do, as in, several inches of water on the floor.

The water in my basement infiltrates in two ways: 1. Through the porous cinder block walls, as high as three feet from the floor. To witness a dozen or so pinholes through which water streams, much like a faucet, during a storm is really quite shocking. (This has largely been addressed with Thoroseal and Thoroplug concrete products which plug up tiny pinholes in the cinder blocks.) 2. The high water table creates damp spots on the concrete floor, particularly in the garage, which is about 6 inches lower than the basement.

So over the years, I've tried to address these issues, first by installing a sump pump, which I might add has been cycling on and off regularly since last evening. It works quite well, but that alone is not enough to handle the incredible volume of water coming down the side of the hill.

I've also had an underground drainage pipe installed in the backyard. It was dug toward the rear of my backyard lawn, where the level lawn meets the uphill brushy area filled with brambles. The piping runs parallel to the house to divert water that would otherwise rush straight down the hill toward the house. The pipe carries the water along the north side of the house and the water exits the pipe at ground level in a brushy area.

That's the white pipe on the left. I noticed after the heavy rains we've had that the northeastern side of the front lawn is quite soggy due to all the water draining out that pipe.

Here's the area just down hill from that pipe. It doesn't concern me too much since it's a seasonal thing that occurs in March and April. By May, things are generally drying out.

Further down the front yard, though, where the "lawn" meets the woodsy area bordering the road, you can see some erosion occurring under the crab apple tree. Last fall, I'd dumped a few wheelbarrows full of pine mulch underneath the crab apple to prevent wild mustard from taking over, but you can see how the force of the water coming down through the yard carved little rivulets through the mulch. I'll have to try mulching again once the area's dry enough to work in.

The force of the water coming down the hill doesn't end in those woods you see beyond the yard. Although there's a culvert there, the water often washes out the road in spring and often collects in large puddles there. It's really amazing how damaging all that water can be.

Eggshells for the Birds and the Garden

2010-03-13T05:12:00.000-08:00

Here's a winter's worth of eggshells, all ground up. I use a small soapstone mortar and pestle to do the job.

I'm saving them to sprinkle around my tomato plants to prevent blossom end rot.

I hear they're also a useful barrier for deterring slugs. Last spring was a banner year for slugs in my garden. (You remember all that rain, don't you?) I also like to save some of the eggshells for songbirds, who by this time are scouting for nesting sites and "hooking up," in today's vernacular. Birds especially need calcium during egg-laying season.

My sister has spoiled me with her farm fresh eggs, so I only resort to buying eggs in winter, when my sister's hens have slowed production. Once you've eaten truly fresh eggs with their bright yellow yolks, the store-bought eggs actually seem a little gross.

I've also saved a few of those soft cardboard egg cartons for my vegetable seedlings, which Dad says I should be starting soon. Truth be told, I've never had much luck starting seedlings indoors, probably because I've never invested in a heating mat or grow lights. My indoor temperatures are also on the cool side (64 degrees daytime) and I know many seeds need warm temperatures to germinate. The warmest room in the house is my upstairs bathroom, which is the only room with both south and west-facing windows, so I may have to relocate the houseplant that loves its spot on top of the toilet

The big rain event here in the northeast has only just begun, but I've already been out to secure a loose shutter that was banging against the house in the driving wind. I'd just as soon stay inside for the rest of the day, but split pea soup is on the menu mid-day, and I need to get some parsnips and celery. I've also had a hankering for coleslaw these last few weeks and will be making my own today.

It's Coming!

2010-03-05T09:36:00.000-08:00

The snowdrops are up! First sign of spring!

And they've spread a bit as well. No more complaining! If the snowdrops are up, crocuses and daffodils can't be far behind.

Now, how do you think I discovered the snowdrops were up? Surely, I would go outside under the big white pine and have a look-see. Nooo, I didn't think they'd be this early.

So I was browsing through some older posts of the University of Connecticut Cooperative Extension Service blog. The writer said she noticed that on a recent trip to Stamford she'd seen the snowdrops were already up. What? I mentally shouted to myself. I ran to my window and looked underneath the pine where, nine years ago, I'd planted a small clump of snow drops given to my by a former co-worker. Sure enough, there they were, plain as day. I grabbed my camera and ran outside to record the scene.

Yes, they've spread, but in nine years time, they still only occupy an area of a few square feet.

Garden Envy

2010-03-05T05:56:00.000-08:00

Just as the most ambitious new diet proclamations are made right after consuming the most decadent dessert, so, too, late winter is the time I set an ambitious agenda for garden sightseeing in the months to come.

Today's sky is a milky shade of gray and the snow is largely gone. We've all kept a stiff upper lip to get through the coldest months of winter, and while nor'easters, colorless days and the biting cold have their charm, early March has me restless and impatient. Where are the snowdrops, crocuses and daffodils that will signal spring at Owl Hollow? (Patience, dear Fern. Need I remind you that the average last frost date in this part of western Connecticut doesn't arrive until May 15?)

Some garden bloggers are putting the finishing touches on plot plans for this year's vegetable garden, and some have already started seedlings indoors. (That's hard for me to do with a Maine Coon adolescent who makes bits of dust, plastic wrappers and, yes, green things that grow, a regular part of his diet. No place is safe from the feline Hoover.)

But what really gets me going is the thought of all those gorgeous gardens I can visit this year. When the humidity becomes uncomfortable and the bugs are out, procrastination comes easily, especially if I can put off my own garden chores to become a voyeur of others' hard labor and sweat. Just let me poke around, photograph and otherwise gain inspiration to coax my own gardens to delusions of grandeur, and I'll call that a great day.

I was admiring the photos of Scotland's Drummond Castle gardens that Laurie over at My Weeds Are Very Sorry posted. (What exquisite symmetry.) It's safe to say that for as long as I'm dealing with a long-term bout of unemployment, trips abroad won't be on my itinerary. But by way of compensation, I happily commit to visiting as many local gardens right here in Connecticut that I can squeeze in.

Last year, my mother and I visited the lovely Hollister House Garden in Washington (shown above and below). The 25-acre garden, created in 1979 and today a Garden Conservancy project, has evolved into a portrait of formal versus natural landscape design, hidden walkways, nooks and crannies and 10-foot-high walls and hedges that define outdoor "rooms."

This year, I've added the following must-see gardens to my list:

Bellamy-Ferriday Garden in Bethlehem
Hill Stead Gardens in Farmington
Harkness Memorial State Park and Gardens in Waterford
Promisek at Three Rivers Farm in Bridgewater

I can't wait!

Centennial Watershed State Forest hike

2010-02-22T11:33:00.000-08:00

Today is the last of the 40+ degree days for a while. A series of approaching foul weather systems is headed our way to remind us all that it's still February. It seemed a good time to squeeze in a hike on the Aspetuck Valley Trail.

The trail winds through the Centennial Watershed State Forest. The 15,300-acre forest was established in 2002 as a partnership between the Aquarion Water Company, the Connecticut Department of Environmental Protection and The Nature Conservancy to conserve land for water supply protection and open space preservation.

The black arrows on the map above indicate my route. I estimate I hiked about 4.86 miles, which doesn't sound like an incredible distance, but the snow and ice underfoot, combined with the usual tree roots and rocks, slowed me down enough to extend my time on the trail to about 2 3/4 hours.

This was the only bit of open field on the hike, near the trail head parking lot.

This is more typical of how the trail looked for most of the walk. Mountain laurel was most abundant, and I made a mental note to return in May, when the shrub would be in bloom.

The snow made for slow going. It had been warm enough yesterday to continue the daytime melting process, but dropping overnight temperatures put a halt to the melting and turned the trail into a mix of hard snow, ice and, as the morning wore on, a slushy juice.

Still, the snow cover revealed other hikers and their four-legged companions who had passed here before me, and it was their tracks that made it much easier for me to stay on the trail. Sure, the trail was blazed, but from time to time, there were no blazes to be seen. When you're not sure you're on the trail, you start to look around and all you can see is trees and more trees. It begins to sink in that you could really get lost out here. Luckily, that didn't happen, but I did find it necessary to spend more time scanning bare ground in spots, searching for the more downtrodden leaf litter as a clue to where others had gone.

I love the look of lichen-covered boulders. I wish I could transplant one to my living room.

This rotting tree stump covered in club moss also held interest in an otherwise monotone landscape.

Here's an interesting log cabin on an old country road the trail paralleled for a portion of its length.

Here's a closer look at the cabin's sunny back porch. It's quite charming.

Hope you enjoyed the walk.

Late February Snow - A Photo Essay

2010-02-16T13:29:00.000-08:00

An area snowstorm has deposited a new layer of white in my yard, turning it into a study of white on gray.

I planted this Japanese black pine 15 years ago, when it was just a small sapling. I didn't think it was going to make it after deer browsed the lower branches. It has an interesting growth habit that has the vaguely Asian look that I love.

One of my greatest success stories is shown above. It's a large doublefile viburnum that has grown with enthusiasm and vigor since being planted about 10 years ago. I believe it produces black berries, but I see them so rarely as the birds pick them off as soon as they ripen. Here's what the shrub looks like in bloom, below.

This venerable mountain laurel is on the north side of the house. Deer browsing has sculpted all my mountain laurel and rhododendrons, giving them their graceful, bowl-shaped appearance.

These Autumn Joy sedums have donned snowy whitecaps, though I live far from the ocean. Here they are in September, below.

They never fail to deliver spectacular bloom at a time when most other perennials are spent. They're also drought-tolerant and insect- and deer-resistant.

Here's the Stairway to Heaven in summer. Although they lie on the south side of the house, they're heavily shaded by mountain laurel and rhododendrons, making those steps the perfect spot for a pot or two of impatiens. Here's how they appear in the snow, below.

The back of the house is barely visible from the forest.

Nurture Your Houseplants

2010-02-14T13:47:00.001-08:00

The next time you need to water your houseplants, why not practice water conservation, ditch the Miracle Gro and apply your own liquid fertilizer, all at the same time?

Simply save the water you use to cook vegetables to water houseplants, after the water has cooled. (If those vegetables on the stove happened to be ones you grew yourself, organically, so much the better.)

The water in which vegetables have been boiled contains minerals and other nutrients that will help your plants thrive. Cooked vegetables leach some of these nutrients in the water, even when the vegetables are steamed.

Of course, it's not a good idea to water houseplants with salted cooking water. If you're in the habit of doing this, you can still reuse this nutrient brew by freezing it for later use in soups or stews.

Interestingly, the San Francisco Chronicle reports that Southerners at one time used water left over from boiling foods poured over bread or biscuits or simply drunk from a shot glass. Such water was known as "pot liquor," or "potlikker."

American slave cooks started the practice of saving the "broth" from cooking greens like collards, turnips and mustards to feed their families.

Potlikker may have been associated with a life of hardship, but many of those who became accustomed to drinking such vegetable water – it was the precursor, after all, of V8 juice - relished the distinct flavors of waters used to cook specific vegetables.

If you're a Northerner, potlikker may be an acquired taste. And while the water used to cook other foods, such as pasta or hard-boiled eggs, may not generate the same praise from Southern foodies, it can still be used to refresh your houseplants.

February Blahs

2010-02-07T16:23:00.000-08:00

View from the front door

My apologies to anyone who's noticed the glaring lack of posts here. I've been feeling particularly uninspired of late. No doubt, it's a case of the February blahs. I have been spending most of my time huddled indoors and compulsively cooking, then attempting to work it all off at the gym.

I noticed another blogger I read takes a break from writing with her "Wordless Wednesday" posts that feature a photo. I think I may start up something similar called, "Speechless Sundays."

"It's in the Bag"

2010-01-22T16:45:00.000-08:00

The frugal among us "brownbag it" in an effort to be good. For my boy, Luther, brown bagging it means being devilishly bad.

An extra large, brown paper bag is all it took to occupy the energetic, too-mischievous-for-my-own-good but cute-as-a-button, I-can-do-no-wrong Luther with eight weeks (and counting) of 100% unadulterated fun. (It's a good place to snooze, too.)

Behold, the Amazing Bag.

It is not empty.

Note the many pinholes made by sharp little claws.

One day, one of those pinholes became a tear. Soon, the tear became a hole. Oh, the possiblities.

This seat is taken. Scram!

How about a hot dog and a glass of milk?

Did anyone see my mouse?

That took a lot out of me. Snore.....

End Note: The more timid Waldo observed Luther inside, around and on top of the bag for most of the past two months. Finally lured forward by the irresistible sound of crinkling paper, he only recently screwed up the courage to approach the strange brown object. To be continued....

Crazy About Compost

2010-01-17T11:51:00.000-08:00

I love the idea of diverting everyday kitchen waste - the endless stream of parings, shavings, peels and pits - that springs forth from my cutting board. And now that I'm home more, there is never a shortage of apple cores, onion skins or the butt ends of carrots, celery or broccoli stalks.

It might seem strange that in my 14 years at Owl Hollow I have never really maintained a proper mulch pile. I inherited one, a simple affair held together by slatted wood, but I never used it much because it was set way back in the overgrown area of the rear yard, prime deer tick habitat.

Two years ago, I took the somewhat daring step of digging a new vegetable plot in my front lawn. (The front lawn, you should know, is quite private and difficult to see from the road unless you're standing at the bottom of the driveway.) I felt it was a smart move since the front yard receives sunshine in abundance, while the backyard is more shaded and enclosed.

So it would seem to make sense to locate a new compost pile in the proximity of the new vegetable garden. It's not going to be anything fancy, and may not be more than a pile of kitchen waste and lawn clippings periodically aerated with a shovel or pitchfork.

(An enclosed bin of some sort would make the whole affair tidier and more manageable when it comes time for aerating. There's a paper company just a few miles down the road from me that last year would regularly put 4 x 4 foot slatted wood pallets out by the road for the taking. If I could fit three of these in my car trunk, they'd made the perfect sides for the compost pile.)

In addition to reducing my contributions to the local waste stream, starting a compost pile would also enrich my garden soil. Compost acts as a soil conditioner/fertilizer and will keep my garden growing healthy. Compost adds nutrients to the soil and feeds microorganisms that are needed by growing plants.

For optimum decomposition, the nitrogen-to-carbon ratio needs to be about 25 to 30 parts carbon to 1 part nitrogen. Here's a list of some of the materials I'll most likely be adding to my compost pile and their estimated carbon-to-nitrogen ratios.

High Carbon Materials ("brown" matter)

Wood ashes, a perfect 25:1 ratio (Too bad I don't have a fireplace.)
Fruit waste, 35:1
Leaves, 60:1
Pine needles, 80:1

High Nitrogen Materials ("green" matter)

Food waste, 20:1
Grass clippings, 20:1
Hay, another perfect 25:1 ratio (Too bad I don't have a horse.)
Vegetable scraps, 25:1 (This I have, in abundance.)

Depending on what you've got, you may need to tinker with your compost pile to reach the ideal balance of 25 to 30:1. If your carbon-to-nitrogen ratio is too high, you can simply add grass clippings; if it's too low, you can add dry leaves or wood chips.

I'll know the compost is "done" when it's a rich, dark color, crumbles easily and I can't distinguish any of the original contributions. Or, as Organic Gardening magazine editors say, "It's ready when it looks and feels like moist chocolate-cake crumbs and smells like fresh-turned earth."

Depending on how good my composting technique is, I could have ready-to-use compost in anywhere from nine months to a year. My success will hinge not only on the carbon-to-nitrogen ratio, but also on ensuring that the pile is kept moist (not wet) and turning it once a week.

Organic Gardening also recommends using straw as your bottom-most layer to keep your pile off the ground and away from weeds and small animals. Straw should also be used to top off your pile to thwart pests and keep odors down. The compost pile should be located in partial shade.

Are you a composter and, if so, what goes into your mix?

Baking for the Birds

2010-01-09T11:03:00.000-08:00

By this time of year, my outdoor chores are limited to keeping the driveway cleared of snow, some anticipated winter pruning and keeping the bird feeder filled.

Truth be told, I don't really mind these chores; all of them are a good excuse to bundle up and get outside, even as my Inner Hibernator whispers, "Take a nap."

In addition to a caged, triple-tube seed feeder that's stocked all winter long with black oil sunflower seeds, I also maintain a caged suet feeder using commercially-made suet cakes I buy at rock bottom prices (.50 a cake). But you may enjoy making your own version of wild bird cakes that invite inspired improvisation, depending on what you've got on hand in the kitchen. And, if there are children afoot, you can bet they'll be clamoring to help you out, too.

Most recipes are quite simple, relying on either peanut butter or unflavored gelatin as a base; from there, you simply stir in nuts, dried fruit or seeds of your choice,* pour the goopy mixture into an empty plastic suet container) a Lean Cuisine dish also works well) and refrigerate until it sets.

When you're ready to hang your bird cake(s) outside, pop it out of the tray and insert in your suet feeder, if you have one. If you don't have a caged suet feeder (preferably double-caged to deter squirrels), you can put your creations into those green plastic berry baskets, the kind that strawberries are sold in, or even onion bags.

Here are a few of my favorite recipes, adapted from those found in Birds 'n Bloom magazine, which by the way, don't actually require baking.

Gelatin Seed Blocks

2 1/2 ounce envelopes of unflavored gelatin
1/4 cup of water
Assorted bird seed, nuts, raisins, dried fruit

Empty the gelatin envelopes into the water in a saucepan and stir over low heat until the gelatin is completely dissolved. Stir in 1 1/2 cups of any combination of the bird seed, nuts and dried fruits. Mix well. Pack the mixture firmly into a plastic container and chill until set.

Woodpecker Delight

1 cup cornmeal
1 cup peanut butter
1 cup sugar
1/2 cup flour
1 cup water
1 cup birdseed

In a microwave-safe bowl, combine the first 5 ingredients. Microwave on high for 3 to 5 minutes. Stir in the bird seed and let cool. Press into roughly sandwich-sized plastic containers and refrigerate. These will then fit nicely in your suet feeder.

Chickadee Sandwich

If you're too impatient to dissolve the gelatin, you can simplify things by smearing two slices of bread with peanut butter. Sprinkle birdseed on both slices, press together like a sandwich and insert in a suet feeder.

You can also send the children on a pine cone hunt around the yard and then slather the pine cones with the peanut butter mix you've prepared. Thread a string through the pine cones and hang from trees you can easily view from indoors. Grab the binoculars and watch the action. You can also save your old toilet paper rolls and stuff them with your seed mixture to make Peanut Butter Bird Burritos, minus the hot sauce.

The birds will appreciate these treats during the coolest days of winter, your kids will enjoy some old-fashioned fun and you'll get a kick out of cooking like your eight-year-old.

*Depending on what you've got on hand, you can also incorporate the grease from cooking bacon into your bird cakes, along with stale breakfast cereal, bread or waffles torn into pieces, cat or dog food (dry or canned), cooked rice, oatmeal and apple cores. Aim for a consistency that's not as wet as pancake batter but moist enough to spread like butter.

An Early Morning Visitor in the Garden

2010-01-02T05:32:00.000-08:00

It was 7 a.m. and the snow was lightly falling. As I sat watching the morning news and eating toast with strawberry jam for breakfast, Luther gazed outside the kitchen window.

Within minutes, Luther's demeanor changed from neutral to breathless as he jockeyed for a better viewing position. The look on his face was more excited than his expression when he sees one of my neighbor's cats roaming around.

So I leaned toward the window, just in time to see a beautiful red fox pacing inside the large, overgrown garden enclosed by a waist-high picket fence. It's just six feet from the north side of the house. He must have jumped inside. It was clear he was looking for a way out that wouldn't require jumping Like so many wild turkeys that refuse to fly when they can walk, I guess the fox didn't want to expend any more energy than was necessary. Within a few seconds, he found the gate ajar and slipped out.

I watched as he headed back up the slope, into the woods from whence he came. I hurriedly finished my breakfast, opened up a pricey can of cat food the cats turn up their noses at and put it in on a plastic plate. Then I threw on my coat and grabbed my camera.

I left my food offering at the edge of the brushy area that borders the backyard. Perhaps it's unlikely the fox will return and find the food before squirrels or crows do, but I wanted to try, anyway.

Although the snow has already obscured the finer details of the fox tracks in the photo above, I learned two important things about fox tracks: 1. Unlike most other four-legged animals, fox tracks appear in a nearly vertical line, and 2. The tracks themselves are quite round, more like a cat's than a dog's.

After examining these tracks, I realized happily there were more fox tracks elsewhere in the yard. I often see tracks in winter I do not recognize; now, I'll recognize these.

The fox sighting has renewed my interest in baiting the mouse traps in the garage, it's something I can get quite lazy about, especially when, roughly half the time, the mice eat the peanut butter so delicately the trap isn't sprung. But any mice I do catch could be tossed in the same area where I left the cat food. Perhaps the fox, a welcome visitor not seen on my property for at least 10 years, will find them and make Owl Hollow a regular stopover.

Rock On

2009-12-26T11:54:00.000-08:00

"There is no pleasing New Englanders, my dear, their soil is all rocks and their hearts are bloodless absolutes." – John Updike

Amid the riot of summer's growth, rocks are often disregarded. Staunch sentries of the forest, they lie impassive and unmoved by the frenzy of chlorophyll-fueled growth around them. By winter, their irregular form and massive heft take on a greater prominence against the bare, leafless landscape, with an intrepid beauty all their own.

"Since childhood she had walked the Devon rivers with her father looking for flowers and the nests of birds, passing some rocks and trees as old friends, seeing a Spirit everywhere, gentle in thought to all her eyes beheld."
- Henry Williamson, 1895-1977

I love looking at unusual boulders along my walks, especially if they have interesting lichens growing on them. Somehow, that bit of tenacious green seems to really stand out on a frigid, cold day.

"Study how water flows in a valley stream, smoothly and freely between the rocks. Also learn from holy books and wise people. Everything, even mountains, rivers, plants and trees, should be your teacher."
- Moriheri Ueshiba, Japanese poet, 1883-1969

These boulders looks like they were frozen in time as they tumbled down a wooded slope. Did they look just this way a thousand years ago? Will they remain for another thousand years?

What is it that we New Englanders love about a stone wall, anyway? The suggestion of order? A rough symmetry of form that marks the hand of man?

Growing Fruits, Nuts & Berries

2009-12-23T12:02:00.000-08:00

My favorite nursery catalog arrived today. It's from St. Lawrence Nurseries, a family-run nursery in far northern New York state, about 20 miles from the Canadian border.

The nursery specializes in cold-hardy fruit and nut trees and claims to be one of the few fruit and nut tree nurseries growing their stock in a zone 3 location (-40 to -30 degrees F. average annual minimum temperature).

If you've been less than satisfied with the survival rate of your seedlings, it's a pretty safe bet that St. Lawrence stock will be winter-hardy.

St. Lawrence sells 152 apple varieties, from Adanac and Adirondack Crab to Winesaps and Wolf River. They also sell quite a few pear, plum, pie cherry and cherry plum varieties, although because my space is limited, I'm more interested in their fruiting shrubs and ground covers.

Over the years, I've purchased quite a few of their plants:

Gooseberries, Pixwell variety (Ribes sp.): A a tough plant that's reliably produced plump, green fruit that turns purple when ripe with very little care and not a great deal of sun. I prefer eating the gooseberries when they're still green and quite tart. They turn sweet as they ripen.

In early spring, the same little green worms that have denuded my serviceberry trees (see below) also go after the gooseberry. According to Lee Reich, author of Uncommon Fruits Worthy of Attention, these are currantworms, which can be controlled by insecticides. (I prefer handpicking, but you've got to catch them early.) Beware of the thorns.
Juneberries, aka Serviceberry or Shadblow: The berry is similar to a blueberry in appearance and, depending on who you talk to, taste. My two tree seedlings had a very slow start and were stunted for years by the one-two punch of early spring attacks by leaf-eating green caterpillars followed by persistent deer browsing all summer long.

Then last summer, one of the two trees really took off and now has a nice canopy of foliage about eight feet high. Oddly, although the trees are spaced just 10 feet apart, the larger tree escaped the usual caterpillar devastation while the smaller one did not. I handpicked as many of the worms as I could, but the damage was largely done. They can defoliate a seedling in no time.
Blueberries: My lowbush blueberry bed needs to be rescued from spreading brambles and other invasives threatening to engulf them.
Nanking dwarf cherry trees: I planted three of these about eight years ago. They put on a lovely show of pinkish white blooms in the very early spring, but the birds get most of the cherries; I discovered they were too small to be pitted using an antique cherry pitter my sister gave me as a gift one year.
Northrop Mulberry: Because mulberries are among the last trees to leaf out in spring, I know when mine starts growing that all danger of frost is passed. Since planting one tree seedling a number of years ago, I've been rewarded with volunteer mulberry trees elsewhere on the property, courtesy of resident birds spreading the wealth. One of the volunteers is now about 20 feet high.

If you've got a mature mulberry tree in your yard and children in the neighborhood, they'll likely compete with the birds to get at the berries. Historically, mulberries were made into wine. Author Reich notes that mulberries were also used to cook murrey, a puree added to spiced meats or used as a pudding in medieval England. Dried mulberries, he notes, were a winter staple for the people of the Himalayas. Black mulberries have been known to produce fruit for 300 years.
Viburnum: This is one of my all-time favorite shrubs, and over the years, I've planted Blackhaw (Viburnum prunifolium), Wayfaring Bush (Viburnum lantana), Nannyberry, aka Wild Raisin (Viburnum lentago) American Highbush Cranberry (Viburnum trilobum) and one of my greatest success stories, the massive doublefile Viburnum. Most of these shrubs don't exceed 15 feet high when fully grown so they'll do well in a confined environment, although they will appreciate well-drained soil and full sun. They are all characterized by attractive foliage, lovely flowers and berries the birds will love.
Corkscrew willow (Salix sp.): I planted two of these in areas of my lawn that tend to stay wet in early spring due to a drainage system that funnels water away from elsewhere on the property, but the area doesn't get enough sunlight and the plants haven't done so well. I meant to move them to another location last fall, but ran out of time. If they're still around in the spring, and the deer haven't nibbled them to death, they will be relocated.
Potentilla (Potentilla fruticosa): This is a small shrub reaching just two or three feet high with small yellow flowers all summer long.
Dogwoods: I've planted gray (siky) dogwood and red osier dogwood (Cornus sericea). Both do well in damp areas and tend to spread by sending up suckers.

I'd love to have a few nut trees on the property but have been reluctant to commit to a tree that takes so long to produce nuts. However, if you're interested, St. Lawrence offers Hazelbert, Bur Oak, Red Oak, Korean Nut Pine, Black Walnut, Butternut, Shadbark Hickory and American Chestnut.

'Ol Man Winter Arrives Ahead of Schedule

2009-12-20T10:57:00.000-08:00

I went to bed last night with reports from the weatherman of "8 to 14 inches possible" lingering in my mind. By 10:30 pm, the wind was picking up and packing a punch with strong gusts that startled the boys, but there was not yet any precipitation. Several times during the night I heard the snowplows rumble by, so I knew that snow was indeed falling.

I awoke this morning to a moderate amount of the white stuff coating the landscape, but certainly not as much as other areas in my region got.

We got about six inches. Much ado about nothing.

After fortifying myself with a leisurely breakfast of steel-cut oatmeal with maple syrup, milk, raisins and walnuts, I brought out my handy-dandy snow blower for its inaugural 2009-2010 season run. The little Toro 1800 breezed through its paces. This is my third season with the snow blower (aka snow "thrower") and I must say that was some of the best $280 I've ever spent. It's got to be one of the smallest snow blowers around and with its plastic body, it's lightweight and easy to pick up.

Still, its 18-inch-wide blades make short work of my 110-foot-long driveway. It's an electric model, so I don't have to mess with gasoline or oil, which I don't like to store in the garage, anyway. I use a 100-foot-long cord with it, which is not quite long enough to get me to the bottom of the driveway, down by the road, so I usually end up shoveling the last few feet. Of course, that's also where the plows really pack in the snow, so shoveling those last few feet is unavoidable. It took me 35 minutes to clear the driveway, and that included heart-pounding shoveling down by the road.

I took a walk at the Orchard Hill Nature Center the other day. The trails take you from woodlands through the fields and, my favorite part, along the woolly and wild Pootatuck River. (There's also a shaded boardwalk trail where a variety of ferns, Jack-in-the-Pulpit, red Trillium and Solomon's Seal can be found in the spring.)

The site's history extends back to the 1700s, when it was a farm site. The river provided power for the house and farm as well as a variety of mills on the property. Stone wall remnants of the mill remain. The place, long ago reclaimed by nature, was once home to a lumber sawmill, a grist mill for grinding flour and a cider mill for processing juice from apples. There was also a wool-carding mill for yarn-making.

Later, the land was purchased by a water company for its watershed. It became a nature sanctuary in 1976.

I've got a lamb stew cooking in the oven, and the aroma emanating from the kitchen is intoxicating. Snowy winter days like this are ideal for two things, in my opinion: eating good food and curling up with a good book.

Enjoy yours.

Creeping Through Winter

2009-12-18T08:22:00.001-08:00

Now that the thermometer has dipped a few degrees into the realm of real wintertime temperatures, my thoughts have turned to the warmer days ahead. I’m waiting impatiently for my seed catalogs to arrive and wondering how I’ll make it until spring.

I recently wrapped up my holiday gift shopping with the purchase of some lovely heirloom vegetable seed packets from the Hudson Valley Seed Llibrary.

Even if you’re done with your holiday shopping, this site’s still well worth a visit, if only to admire the 16 different “art packs” of vegetable, herb and flower seeds. You can buy them singly ($3.50 each) or as part of a gift basket. The cover of each envelope was designed by a different artist. I must say, they’d make great stocking stuffers.

Some winter pruning assignments I’ve given myself demand attention. The first is a roughly 30-foot long stand of well-established forsythia (variety unknown) which has bloomed quite sparsely for each of the past 14 years. While pruning back the older canes should do the trick, I actually want to cut the whole entanglement back to about three feet high. From what I’ve read, it can take it, and while I’ll sacrifice whatever blooms I’d otherwise get this spring, my preference is to prune in winter rather than immediately after the spring bloom to minimize further encounters with deer ticks.

My second pruning project involves a similar severe cutback of a large burning bush tree with a canopy that's about 15 feet high and 25 feet wide.

Invasive seedlings of the burning bush found elsewhere on the property are usually dug up, but this massive specimen is allowed to stay, given its attractive mounded growth habit and its vivid scarlet fall colors. That being said, my wish is to cut back these branches a good three or four feet, all the way around, so that I can better admire the three sun-choked evergreens behind it.

I was ready to tackle these pruning projects weeks ago, but my online sources tell me I’m better off waiting until late winter to do the job to reduce desiccation of the cut branches. I’m fortunate in that I’ll have a helpmate in this project, a friend and neighbor who dug up trays of pachysandra and a few sedums from my property, with my blessings, last summer. I am not a fan of pachysandra, having seen how well established beds of it continuously creep into my lawn and perennial beds. It’s a constant battle to keep them out of where they don’t belong.

Other than their greedy behavior, pachysandra does offer a few benefits, including nearly maintenance-free growth that grows so thickly that weeds can’t gain a roothold, and an attractive evergreen appearance all year long.

So my work’s cut out for me in late February, but I still have 10 weeks to luxuriate in the winter respite from outdoor chores. Where are my seed catalogs??

Four Things My Cats Taught Me About Life

2009-12-06T11:53:00.000-08:00

1. Embrace your inner predator.
When Waldo stalks The String, I have to admire the intensity of his concentration. In that moment when his eyes lock on their target, the outside world ceases to exist. There are no distractions. All energy is focused on his quarry. Every movement, every twitch of The String is processed and adjusted for as the animal prepares to pounce at exactly the right time. In a house cat, such single-minded attention comes from instinct and genes, but cultivated by a person, these qualities could enhance one's accomplishments where patience, commitment and clarity of mind are required.

2. Life is best savored from a lounging position.
Like good old boys who never tire of telling the same story over and over again, the Fur Boys repeatedly urge the following wisdom:

"When you lie down, the pace of life slows down."

"Take time to smell the food bowl."

"You only go through life nine times."

"Stretch, roll, yawn and repeat."

"Indulging in a little catnip now and then is good for the heart."

"Decisions come easier following thoughtful meditation, preferably in morning sunlight."

3. Always make time for play.
Waldo has the long legs and lean body of a ballet dancer. He'll readily go airborne to pursue a flung mouse. His twists, turns and pirouettes would earn him points from a television dance contest judge.

Luther has the body of a weight-lifter, strong, stocky and stout. He's not much of a jumper and is more inclined to look for a seat as soon as he enters a room. At play, he prefers to have The String dangled inches above him as he lies on his back, four paws to the wind. At all times, he maintains a perpetual state of innocent, wide-eyed adorableness, a fiction he frequently plays up to get himself out of trouble.

4. Lick your loved ones.

The expression of love can take several forms, Luther told me one day, feeling philosophical. Licking, for instance. Waldo's gentle snoring, Luther confided, awakens in him a fierce desire to show his love, and he does so by firmly placing his paws around his best bud's neck and vigorously bathing Waldo's head in a no-nonsense kind of way. Should Waldo have the temerity to protest or the poor judgment to move, the licks are replaced by jaws locked on the throat and a tussle ensues.

Leisurely sipping a glass of Zinfandel in the afternoon sun, Luther was feeling expansive and eager to articulate his feelings. To prove his love to me, his Keeper, he explained, he only needed to beam and squint in beatific joy and gratitude.

When feeling particularly demonstrative, Luther expresses his love by gently gnawing on delightfully odoriferous human toes, starting with the littlest and saving the biggest (and best) for last. He'll begin by artfully gaining the victim's trust with gentle, tender nipping that lulls one into complacency. Then, without warning, the delicate sampling of the 5 Little Piggies degenerates as the victim's toes are noshed on while Luther clamps down hard with a devilish grin on his face.

Turning Off the Furnace Attracts Media Attention

2009-12-01T15:10:00.000-08:00

Setting personal challenges has always been something I've enjoyed doing. I'm not sure why. Often physical in nature, these challenges have been a way to stretch myself, test my endurance or simply make routine tasks more interesting. It's also been a way to make seemingly impossible goals more manageable when broken down into smaller components.

So I was quite excited when a recent challenge I set for myself and fellow bloggers drew the attention of the media. In my personal finance blog, Wild Blue Yonder, I invited others to join me in the 2nd annual No Heat Challenge. Simply put, the contest was to see how long each of us could go into the fall without turning on the heat. (Using the fireplace, stove or a space heater would be cheating, and each of us was on the honor system to report the date we charged up the furnace.)

Of course, those with young children or elderly family members living in the home would not want to participate in this particular challenge, but we did have about 20 enthusiastic participants from California to Georgia and everywhere in between.

I soon learned that my No Heat Challenge was by no means unique. There was, in fact, an entire town in New Jersey that was enduring the same kind of masochistic game. And so I was "discovered" by an intrepid reporter intent on ferreting out other examples of a rather punishing trend. I was interviewed first by a reporter with the (Newark, NJ) Star Ledger, and then, a few weeks after that story was published, a writer with USA Today also called me.

It was quite flattering to be considered an "expert" on energy efficiency topics and, gently prodded by the reporters, I did my best to shift from my simple contest to comment from a larger perspective on different ways to save on energy costs and why this is important.

I managed to squeeze in a fond reference to my Kill-o-Watt meter and touch on CFLs, as well as my personal obsession with tracking gallons of heating oil used each season and price per gallon paid.

The No Heat Challenge continues today. At least, I think it does. Sometimes, people forget to report in that they turned the heat on. I myself flipped the switch in mid-October, but I'm already thinking about what other sorts of energy-efficiency personal challenges could come next.

Will you join me?

As Good As Leftovers in the Fridge...

2009-11-15T16:20:00.000-08:00

Can you spot all the little apples still clinging to the tree? They're clustered near the top of the branches (top right of photo), on the side that faces south.

If you're a hungry deer, they're as good as leftovers stored safely in the fridge.

Most are about the size of a kiwi, but round, of course. They've long been a coveted food source for my local deer population, whose presence I'm reminded of daily when I step on the poop that is scattered nightly around my property.

Here's a better view of the apples looking straight up.

-----------------------------------

With relatively mild temperature in the low 60s, it was a great day to squeeze in some late fall yardwork, and in fact, I've been getting a lot of things done now that I normally don't get to until spring.

Cutting back dead foliage on the peonies, for example, and raking yet more leaves out from under my vast pachysandra beds and from under the rhododendrons, on the north side of the house. I was also able to transfer four wheelbarrow loads of mulch across the yard and deposit it all under the apple tree pictured here. Nothing much grows under the tree, and so the exposed soil tends to wash away during a heavy rain. To prevent further erosion, I spread the mulch around the trunk, though I still need to spread more.

Dance of the Falling Leaves

2009-11-05T16:53:00.000-08:00

They danced to the
wind's loud song.

They whirled, and they floated,

and scampered.

They circled and flew along.

The moon saw
the little leaves dancing.

Each looked like
a small brown bird.

The man in the moon
smiled and listened,

And this is the song he heard.

The North Wind is calling, is calling,

And we must whirl round and round,

And then, when our dancing is ended,

We'll make a warm quilt for the ground.

- Author Unknown

Red Maple, an Autumn Show-Off

2009-11-01T04:08:00.000-08:00

Red maple (Acer rubrum Linnaeus) is exceptionally beautiful this time of year.

Also known as swamp maple, this magnificent tree really ups the ante of fall color with its vivid scarlet show.

According to Cornell University, the tree is commonly found in swamps but also does well on dry slopes, which is where my red maple grows.

I must admit to mostly forgetting about this tree for the better part of the year due to its less-than-prominent location on the edge of the property, on a slope I seldom explore except when picking the Japanese wineberries that grow in abundance there during summer's peak.

But one of the treats of autumn is to pause in my yardwork and look up from the raking or other outdoor chores, and this is the tree that captures the eye. (Those are the wineberries in the foreground.) There's still quite a bit of color in the New England woods, although the brilliant reds of sugar maples, burning bush and Japanese maples are sharing more of the spotlight with creamy orangey yellows, darker shades of burgundy and rust and everything in between.

One Last Kayak Trip

2009-10-23T05:13:00.000-07:00

With temperatures expected to reach into the low 70s yesterday, I knew it could be one of my final chances to take Little Minnow out for a fall foliage cruise. So I set out yesterday and put in on Lake Lillinoah at one of my hometown's boat launches.

I've learned from experience that one can look mighty foolish getting into a kayak in shallow water, only to find yourself unable to move because the hull of the kayak is wedged on the water's bottom. Unless you have a boating companion who can push you out, you really need to wade into deeper water so the kayak is truly floating before you get in. So, because I knew I would get wet, I wore a pair of sweatpants with those elasticized cuffs on the bottoms. I scrunched them up to my knees before wading in. I was expecting freezing cold water, but in truth, the air temperature was so warm it didn't bother me.

Once on the channel that feeds out to the lake, I can only say the view was exquisite. It reminded me of a John Denver song.

Like a night in the forest

Like the mountains in springtime

Like a walk in the rain

Like a storm in the desert

Like a sleepy blue ocean

You fill up my senses

The lake really did fill up my senses. A warm breeze riffled through low hanging tree branches and sent cascades of leaves floating down to the water's surface. That's what I heard, too...the wind in the trees and acorns raining down, some of them plunking into the water. Even the air seemed incredibly fresh and clean.

Once through the channel and on the lake, I decided to head south toward the Stevenson Dam, hugging the shoreline. The rhythmic sound of my paddles dipping into the water put me in a meditative state as I gazed upon the birch, beech, hemlocks, maples and mountain laurel with their impressionist-like palette of rust, gold, rose, red and amber foliage.

One or two motor boats made a few passes down the middle of the lake, creating broad swells that smacked against the banks of the lake. I thought it ironic that these same boaters, who evidently enjoy being on the water as much as I do, could be so disrespectful of the environment. There was quite a bit of floating debris, all of it plastic. I fished out about a dozen objects ranging from a motor oil bottle to bait containers, along with the usual food and beverage containers.

Once down near the dam, I turned round and headed back from whence I came. I considered crossing over to the other side of the lake, but in truth I was afraid of getting mowed down by one of the motor boats patrolling up and down. Kayaks are low-lying boats and I doubt you'd even catch my profile in the bright sun, doing about 30 mph, until you were practically on top of me.

So I contented myself with the same view, only in reverse. It was a picture-perfect day, so no regrets.

The cost of a kayak, roof rack, life vest, paddle, anchor, and assorted pulleys and ties about 5 years ago? About $1,500. Two-and-a-half hours out on the water in late October? Priceless.

Caught in the Act!

2009-10-03T15:14:00.000-07:00

I noticed a cow in a cornfield on a morning walk.

As I drew closer, I realized there were actually three bovines contentedly munching in the farmer's cornfield. The farmer shooed them out of there a short time later. There was plenty of sweet corn still on the stalks. Must've been like Cow Nirvana.

The photo reminds me of one of those children's puzzles, How many animals can you find in this picture?

I also passed this picturesque barn along my route. It's a beauty, isn't it?

Robins Feasting on Dogwood Berries

2009-09-26T16:08:00.000-07:00

Large numbers of robins, red-breasted grosbeaks and catbirds are gorging themselves on the berries of 5 dogwood trees I have here.

It's that time of year when everyone's bulking up. And it's around this time that I begin to worry about the hummingbirds that still linger here into late September. Go, go, head for sunny Mexico, I tell them silently. But one more sip of sugar water before you leave.

There's a real chill in the air these days, even when the sun is highest in the sky. There's barely enough warmth to dry my clothes outside. Soon enough, it'll be back to the electric dryer and higher electric bills.

I stopped by the Lutheran church fair today and picked up a jade houseplant for a buck. I also saw a nice concrete garden pot for just $8, which I should have snatched up, but because I was laid off from my job last week, I told myself, "No frivolous spending." Darn, I should have gotten it anyway, it was quite the bargain.

It's Party Time for Autumn Joy Sedum

2009-09-23T08:55:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite perennials, the hardy and drought-tolerant 'Autumn Joy' sedum, is a reliable presence in my garden beds.

Its fleshy, succulent-like leaves don't appeal to Connecticut deer, although the resident woodchuck has been known to dine on them.

The leaves of this sedum remind me of the foliage of a well-known houseplant, the jade plant. Those fleshy leaves are why the plant requires so little water; it will do well in a sunny spot and is easily divided.

This stonecrop forms a nice clump-forming mound of bluish-green leaves and pinkish/bronzy flowers that darken to maroon over time. Its 3-inch wide blooms arrive in August and persist through the month of September in my Zone 6; the plant is also hardy in Zones 3-9.

Sedums are said to attract butterflies, but in truth I have seen more butterflies on my butterfly bushes than the sedums. There are, however, plenty of bees and other important pollinators that swarm the sedum blossoms well before they're fully open.

It's one of the most trouble-free perennials I know, and it's seldom bothered by insect pests. What vivid colors it brings to the autumn garden at a time when many perennials are looking spent.

Is Growing Vegetables Worth It From a Cost Perspective?

2009-09-22T08:06:00.000-07:00

Last spring, I decided to track how much produce my garden generated and to try to assign a dollar value to the vegetables based on prices at my local supermarket. Whenever possible, I tried to find organic equivalents at the supermarket, although that wasn't always possible.

This year I grew (or attempted to grow) garlic, cucumber, red potatoes, cherry tomatoes, tomatoes, yellow and green string beans, basil, lettuce, radishes, green pepper, acorn squash and zucchini.

My successes included garlic (17 small heads harvested) cucumbers (50 cukes from 3 plants, compared to 33 harvested from just 2 vines last summer), red potatoes (11 lbs., and so much fun to dig up), string beans and yellow wax beans (6 lbs.), basil (6 cups of leaves picked for homemade pesto sauce) and lettuce, which made a strong comeback late in the spring after a cold and rainy start.

I got mediocre results from my tomato plants before they succumbed to blight but did manage to get 25 tomatoes from 3 plants. (Compare that last year, when I harvested 108 tomatoes from 6 plants.) I also got 47 grape tomatoes.

This year's disappointments included spinach (dismal), snap peas (dismal), zucchini (2 picked at the tail end of the season), acorn squash (4 small ones picked) and green peppers (4 picked, compared to 7 picked last year). I believe the unproductive squashes simply weren't pollinated; I should have been more on the ball and ready to pollinate the squash blossoms myself, but I was too busy.

The total estimated value of produce I grew this year came to about $147. However, my expenses came to $371; most of that was the $288 I spent on6-foot-high wire deer fencing, which came in rolls of 50 feet; of course, my 11 x 17 foot garden required 56 feet of fencing, so I had to spring for 2 rolls. I expect my cost analysis will be much more favorable next year as I won't be factoring in the cost of that fence.

Interestingly, the most valuable food item I grew was something I had no hand in at all: the wild raspberries and blackberries that appear in profusion here each year. Based on Shop Rite's pricey $3.99 for a 4 oz. container of organic raspberries, I estimate the value of the 2 3/4 cups of berries I picked was $44. I could have easily picked 20 times that amount of berries, but after having Lyme Disease for two consecutive years, I reluctantly chose to pick only those berries within easy reach of my mowed yard. Most ended up on top of my morning breakfast cereal.

It's nice to think I'm saving money as I grow my vegetables, but for me, vegetable gardening is simply an enjoyable, relaxing activity that offers great satisfaction and wholesome food. Most people understand how much more flavorful a homegrown tomato is than store-bought, and the same goes for homegrown peppers (ever so crunchy), creamy soft squashes and crispy cucumbers. It's nice to think that I'm reducing my lifetime load of pesticide sprays and residue. And there's nothing that gives me a greater kick than strolling down to my garden to pick something that will land on the dinner plate that night.

You've Heard of Chicken in a Basket?

2009-09-20T16:20:00.000-07:00

Well, here's Cat in a Basket.

Wet Garlic, a Lovely Sun Room and My Feral Friend

2009-08-29T11:26:00.000-07:00

The garlic I was drying is soaked. I'd totally forgotten I'd put them on the north side of the house last week, under my two-story-high rhododendrons, to dry.

I imagine they'll still be okay, and although the heads are smaller than what you'd find in the supermarket, I am looking forward to sauteing them with a little olive oil in my next culinary masterpiece.

Phase 1 of my sun room project is now done, meaning, the builder has finished installing the windows and door, the benches, trimwork and the stone wall exterior. I hope to prime those benches tomorrow and am counting on improved weather.

It certainly looks lovely with the hydrangea tree in bloom.

I've made great progress, too, with Waldo, the feral cat. This morning as I whiled away a murky, rainy day, he jumped up on the bed and wedged in against my side as if he'd been doing that a million years. He is still a little skittish if I pass my hand over his head, move too quickly or walk around him, but with time I'm confident he'll lose most of his fears..

Here's the big guy looking out the screen door with Luther:

A Day in May

2009-05-30T16:15:00.000-07:00

I haven't posted for a while. That's because I've been busy getting the vegetable garden established, mowing the lawn and settling in with my second new cat, a feral male tabby.

Today, my father and I enjoyed a fine late May day. I just now planted three cherry tomato plants he brought up for me, grown from seed. I pulled another radish plant and just like the rest, no bulb! I haven't' had much luck with radishes, the often-touted "easiest thing to grow."

The potato plants are doing quite nicely, though cutworms have been mowing down large stems. I've wrapped everything in tinfoil but apparently, the wily cutworms weren't foiled.

The parade of spring blooms marches on. The doublefile viburnum and azalea are past peak, but the rhododendron are a gorgeous magenta, and the mountain laurel aren't far behind.

My feral cat, who lived six-and-a-half long years in a shelter, has been with me now for three weeks. He is still hiding 24/7 under a small wood cabinet I have here in my office, and the single occupancy cat condo connected to it.

Feral cats demand patience, but I sense the rewards will be great. I have not touched him yet. He only feels safe enough to eat after dark, one meal daily. I should have called him Dracula, but his given name is Waldo.

Still, there is a certain sense of urgency in getting him acclimated. The vet who checked him out on the day I took him home found he has an abscessed tooth, which will need to be pulled. I have meds I'm supposed to give him 2x daily to ease the inflammation, but of course, he only eats at night so he's getting just half the dose he should. The vet said when she saw him that it wasn't that bad and to give him a few weeks before she came to the house to pull the tooth. We are NOT looking forward to that, but Waldo should be much more comfortable once that's done.

Luther, my other new cat whom I adopted in February 2009, is thriving in his new environment. He, too, was feral, but the key difference between he and Waldo is that I took Luther home when he was just 6 months old, vs. over 6 years for Waldo. Luther's middle name is "Play," and he will do everything possible to engage Waldo in play. For the most part, Waldo's not moving around much. Nor does he defend himself; he is a very non-aggressive cat. Luther will paw at Waldo, throttle him around the neck and bite his cheeks, and still, Waldo will bear up under this abuse from a large and frisky kitten with the utmost grace.

I recently learned that the only way I could keep Luther from pushing the cat condo around with his hind legs (and Waldo inside) was to put a 44 lb. box of Costco cat litter on top of the cat condo.

Oh Waldo, if only you knew the happy life that awaits you. Many times more space than the cramped, smelly room you shared with a dozen other cats for most of your life. A breezy, screened porch that welcomes in the calls of birds, the smell of the outdoors and the occasional turkey, deer, woodchuck or chipmunk sighting. Oh, Waldo, hurry up and warm up to me, because the rest of your life will be good, I promise.

Playing in the Dirt

2009-04-16T09:22:00.000-07:00

It's a lovely early spring day and the temperature is already 55 in the shade. The daffodils are in bloom.

I'm headed out to till one-quarter of my vegetable garden and plant my cool weather crops: the radishes, spinach, lettuce and peas. Well, if I have any pea seed left, that is. I'd planted a bunch a few weeks ago and it was so cold, they never germinated.

This weekend, I'd like to get the potato sets in the ground, too. And I'll see if I can locate my old, black soaker hose to snake around the garden for seepage watering, which reduces the chance of disease taking hold. That's why a soaker hose is a better idea than watering from overhead with a hand-held garden hose. Mother Nature, of course, I can't control.

I'm looking forward to tracking my expenses and produce yield as the season progresses. I spent quite a bit of money already, mainly on a sturdier vinyl-covered metal fence, plus the 7-foot-high posts.

I'd been planning on relocating my two bluebird boxes. They have both been home to successive pairs of wrens, and last year, a pair of bluebirds. But one is a little too close to the vegetable garden and I figure the birds might enjoy a little more privacy; the second box is in a rather overgrown spot. Before I had a chance to move either one, I spotted bird activity around the entrance to the one box, and with binoculars I could see it was a pair of English sparrows. I thought maybe I'd seen them chasing another bird away, but I couldn't be sure.

I took the box down and won't put it back up until the weekend, when hopefully that pair of sparrows has moved on elsewhere. My property's been blissfully English sparrow and starling-free for most of my 14 years here, and I'd like to keep it that way.

Squirrel Tails

2009-02-16T04:05:00.000-08:00

I finally figured out why my dogwood trees bloom so sparsely in May.

I have five of them, both white and pink blooming trees. I had chalked it up to their being older trees that were slowly dying, but no, that's not it, I realized yesterday.

Hungry gray squirrels are eating the buds.

One of the dogwoods is just outside my upstairs bathroom window. The tree branches are nearly touching the house. Yesterday I watched as two plump squirrels systematically nipped the buds off the tree, eliminating much of what would have been a pretty spring display.

They raid the sunflower seed bird feeder all the time. What more do they want?

Spring Fever

2009-02-07T15:07:00.000-08:00

Today's warm (40s) weather was a welcome respite from this long, cold winter here in the northeast. It was enough to get me outside by late afternoon to wash the salt off the car and start cutting up the dozens of white pine branches that fell during the last ice storm. I should have known better than to start work on it with my bare hands. After an hour, my palms were black with pine sap.

I made more progress than I thought I would with a simple bow saw and a pair of loppers. I would have done more, but many of the branches are still buried in 6 inches of snowpack. I'll probably be at it again tomorrow, when they're predicting even warmer temps.

Sadly, my cat of 14 years is near the end of her days. She has lymphoma, and she recently took a turn for the worse. The vet is coming to the house either Monday or Tuesday. Grief can be exhausting. I won't go into much detail here except to say she's been the best cat I ever had.

Spring Planting Time is Almost Here

2009-02-03T10:51:00.000-08:00

This is the time of year when winter's lost whatever luster it had when the fluffy stuff was actually white. The snow's been sticking around here in Connecticut for weeks now, and although we've got under six inches on the ground (and more falling now), the heavy crust on top has turned the snow cover into an impenetrable barrier for some creatures, like deer. Although I rarely see them, their tracks are everywhere, crisscrossing the property.

This is the time of year I daydream of next year's vegetable garden. On the list of must-haves are: pea pods, string beans, zucchini, cucumbers, yellow wax beans, lettuce, green peppers, cherry and beefsteak tomatoes, scallions, potatoes, yellow squash and spaghetti squash. I also plan, with my father's help, to expand the size of the garden by about 40%. Last year it was a modest 8 x 6' and it exceeded my expectations in productivity.

Well, actually, my father will help me fence in the garden plot properly. Last year I used plastic deer fencing and wood stakes, and it proved to be a flimsy affair, partly because I made the mistake of using the fencing itself as support for growing tomato plants that I tied to the fencing. As the plants grew large, their weight pulled the fencing in until the whole thing slowly imploded.

It made it impossible to get in there for weeding, but vegetable plots aren't demanding, and the bounty made it possible for me to enjoy organic tomatoes as a base for sauce, soups and stews all winter long.

I've only grown potatoes once before, but it was a great success, and I can't tell you what fun it was digging in the dirt for those hidden tubers. (You wouldn't want to use a rake or shovel as you risk slicing the potatoes in half.)

One of last summer's woodchucks made himself a burrow beneath the dense stand of forsythia in the backyard; luckily for me, no woodchucks messed with the veggie garden. The vegetable garden is in the front yard, where it enjoys day-long sunshine. Still, next year's fence needs to protect against both woodchucks and deer. That means burying poultry wire 12 inches into the ground as well as above-ground fencing that reaches at least 6 feet.

I'm not at all "handy" when it comes to this stuff, but that's where Dad comes in.

Suburban Peace and Quiet? Hardly.

2009-02-01T07:31:00.000-08:00

Ordinarily, my annual sojourn to see the doctor is a non-event. Cholesterol, blood sugar and other health markers check out fine, year after year. This time, though, the nurse mentioned I had a "slight" hearing loss in my left ear. A sign of aging, she said, while still pointing out the damage excessive noise can do to our hearing. Even driving in a car can damage hearing, she said.

I drove home from the physical newly motivated to take better care of my ears. It wouldn't be too hard to guess the cause of hearing loss. In my case, weekly mowings of my 1.5 acre homestead from late April through October no doubt contribute to the din. Although I use a battery-powered mower, which is somewhat quieter than a conventional gas mower, it still wouldn't hurt to actually wear the ear muffs I purchased years ago.

Along with the lawnmower I use are a lawn trimmer (also rechargeable), an electric pruner I use on the forsythia, spirea and azalea and the newest addition to the fleet, an electric snow-blower. So I guess you could say (sadly) that I contribute my fair share of noise to the neighborhood. Still, I draw the line at purchasing an ear-deafening leaf blower; a rake and some good exercise does just fine.

Around the holidays, I purchased a Hoover steam cleaner to clean my area rugs. Incredibly, that steam cleaner is, far and away, much louder than any lawn and garden appliance I own.

Demise of a Cardinal

Owl Hollow suffered another casualty this week when a hawk got a cardinal at the bird feeder. It's happened before. I guess the hawks have to live, too. The ones here look like either "Sharpies" (Sharp-shinned) or Cooper's hawks, and it's impossible for me to tell the difference. It's my guess that their success rate is only 1 out of 4 tries, but this time, I found a telltale collection of scattered cardinal feathers under the hanging sunflower feeder. I'd rather they picked up one of the well-fed squirrels who regularly raid the feeders, but I'm guessing these small hawks might have a beak-full with one of these rodents.

Spring Cleaning

I've got my work cut out for me this spring. The yard is strewn with debris from one particularly bad ice storm that took down white pine branches like they were match sticks.

Add to that my heavy pruning earlier this winter of my enormous burning bush and the overgrown forsythia and I can see myself doing clean-up duty well into summer.