that's me, Luther
and my bud, Waldo...
wish you a Merry Christmas.
Mom baked this maple nut pie today.
It's made with real maple syrup and walnuts, pecans, hazelnuts and dried cranberries...oh so easy/yummy. Similar to a pecan pie.
Monday, December 24, 2012
A Christmas Pie
We...
that's me, Luther
and my bud, Waldo...
wish you a Merry Christmas.
Mom baked this maple nut pie today.
It's made with real maple syrup and walnuts, pecans, hazelnuts and dried cranberries...oh so easy/yummy. Similar to a pecan pie.
that's me, Luther
and my bud, Waldo...
wish you a Merry Christmas.
Mom baked this maple nut pie today.
It's made with real maple syrup and walnuts, pecans, hazelnuts and dried cranberries...oh so easy/yummy. Similar to a pecan pie.
Sunday, December 16, 2012
Preparing for the President's Visit
.
Saturday afternoon I saw 5 large helicopters in the sky near my house. At first I thought they were news helicopters but I quickly saw they weren't normal helicopters; they were those hotdog-shaped helicopters used by the military (or Airforce One). They seemed to be traveling west directly above Rt. 25 before veering to the north (toward Sandy Hook) at the flagpole.
We didn't learn that President Obama would be visiting my town until last night, but my friend said what I saw was the Secret Service scoping out the route in advance. (I guess it wouldn't be practical to stop and ask directions should they get lost.) However, news reports have indicated the President will arrive at Bradley International Airport in Hartford. I guess if he is then driven to Newtown (a good hour-long drive from the airport), then the security issues still need to be worked out.
It was an impressive sight.
I have also heard that the superintendent of schools has hinted that Sandy Hook School may never reopen. This, after I received a robo call last night from Pat Llodra, our town's first selectwoman, saying that all schools in my town will be closed Monday and then all except Sandy Hook School will reopen on Tuesday.
If I were a parent, I would want that school razed to the ground. How could any parent feel good about sending their children back there? Although budget votes are always contentious battles here that pit seniors and frugal-minded folks against school supporters, I suspect that if the subject of building a new elementary school comes up to a vote this spring, it will pass, easily
Saturday afternoon I saw 5 large helicopters in the sky near my house. At first I thought they were news helicopters but I quickly saw they weren't normal helicopters; they were those hotdog-shaped helicopters used by the military (or Airforce One). They seemed to be traveling west directly above Rt. 25 before veering to the north (toward Sandy Hook) at the flagpole.
We didn't learn that President Obama would be visiting my town until last night, but my friend said what I saw was the Secret Service scoping out the route in advance. (I guess it wouldn't be practical to stop and ask directions should they get lost.) However, news reports have indicated the President will arrive at Bradley International Airport in Hartford. I guess if he is then driven to Newtown (a good hour-long drive from the airport), then the security issues still need to be worked out.
It was an impressive sight.
I have also heard that the superintendent of schools has hinted that Sandy Hook School may never reopen. This, after I received a robo call last night from Pat Llodra, our town's first selectwoman, saying that all schools in my town will be closed Monday and then all except Sandy Hook School will reopen on Tuesday.
If I were a parent, I would want that school razed to the ground. How could any parent feel good about sending their children back there? Although budget votes are always contentious battles here that pit seniors and frugal-minded folks against school supporters, I suspect that if the subject of building a new elementary school comes up to a vote this spring, it will pass, easily
Saturday, December 15, 2012
The media circus in Sandy Hook Center
The national news media has descended on our little town. As you approach Sandy Hook Center, which resembles a small hamlet, it's bumper to bumper traffic, and cars with lots of out-of-state plates are lined up parked on both sides of the road.
Satellite trucks are everywhere, TV crews and reporters are interviewing people on the streets. Cops still have the road leading to the school blocked off to traffic, but they're allowing people to go to the firehouse (not sure about the school) on foot.
It's a very small and picturesque little Center. Historic 18th century homes line Church Hill Road as it descends down a gentle slope toward the single traffic light. There's a liquor store, Figs Restaurant, a Subway, a diner, St. John's Episcopal Church, the Demitassee coffee shop and a few other shops. The Pootatuck River meanders through the Center, behind all the stores. You can enjoy a lovely view of it if you sit on the back deck of the coffee shop. The sidewalks are brick, and the merchants have worked hard for years to revitalize the area and make it more of a destination.
Today, it surely is a destination, for all the wrong reasons. People are out walking with bouquets of flowers and impromptu memorials filled with votive candles are all over town: on a bench by Edmond Town Hall, at the flagpole, in front of the Virgin Mary statue at St. Rose, and of course, at the Sandy Hook School. Someone bought 20 Christmas trees, 1 for each child, and set them up. Saturday mass at St. Rose is packed right now.
A man was standing just off the interstate exit holding a sign that indicated he was from some town in NJ and that they support us. Another sign simply read, "Pray for Newtown." You can tell who the press is becus for some reason they all seem to dress in all black. It's all very sad.
I heard a few reports that the shooter was some sort of troubled genius, which makes me very angry. They shouldn't be turning him into any kind of figure that others would emulate or we'll have copy cat killers who harbor sick fantasies about becoming famous before they go out. Obviously this was a sick individual. No one in their right mind would hurt an innocent child.
I am sure that most people who live near the Center are hunkering down this weekend because you cannot venture out without getting stuck in bumper to bumper traffic. We saw a few familiar news faces out there.
Now that it is dark, I'm sure the disparity of festive Christmas lights and greenery on all the shops and homes down there is going to feel so unsettling against the backdrop of what happened.
Friday, December 14, 2012
Shock and dismay for my hometown
Today, Newtown made national headlines, for all the wrong reasons.
A local elementary school here was the scene of the latest lone gunman gone berserk. Twenty-seven people died this morning, most of them little kids.
I worked all day at the p/t job I've been at for less than a month. I absolutely could not believe this happened here.
I was concerned about trouble getting home from work tonight, as i heard someone saying earlier in the day the police were doing car by car searches, but that was really in a different part of town and didn't affect me at all.
I am sure I will be hearing much more about this as the days go on. You probably know as much as I do at this point. A 20-year-old man is the suspect, and he shot and killed his mother, a teacher who worked at the school, as well as a bunch of other people, before he died.
As someone here was already quoted, "we thought this was the safest place in America."
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
Garlic Guilt
Sigh. It's another bright and sunny morning here in southwestern Connecticut. It will be fairly warm today. I sigh because I am battling an entrenched bug that has kept me from doing just about anything, and that includes one fall chore I just never got to.
Mulching my new garlic beds.
Although I am a huge fan of the pungent bulbs, I have never planted it before. By the time I decided to do it, it seemed the hardneck varieties were all sold out online. (As I understand, the hardnecks will stand up to cold winters better.) I finally caved and bought a bunch of softnecks.
They were planted back in October, I believe. After the tender green shoots came up, I planned to mulch heavily, as prescribed. But one thing led to another, and here it is, early December, and I still haven't had a chance to put down a nice warm blanket for the bulbs.
I started coming down with some nasty bug the week before Thanksgiving. It was the whole nine yards, with a twist. I had the usual congestion and nasal drip, along with a nighttime cough that wouldn't stop, fever and chills, loss of appetite and energy. Within just a few days, the infection had migrated up my Eustachian tubes and lodged in my middle ears, muffling my hearing, and causing an earache and ringing in my ears.
My primary care doctor put me on a course of antibiotics, but after a full week on them, no improvement. By that point, I was feeling desperate to get better, but her office had already closed for the long Thanksgiving weekend. So I went to a walk-in clinic, where a PA prescribed a different antibiotic and Sudafed for my ears, both of which did absolutely nothing.
So, when my own doctor's office reopened on Monday, I returned to her, and she put me BACK on the original antibiotic, plus a second, high dose antibiotic, plus a nasal spray.
I had to return to see her later that week; while my cold symptoms had receded, the ears were still as plugged up as ever. I felt that the bug was still in my system, just latent. I was also getting very nauseous from the combo of the two antibiotics together; it was, I'm sure, a cocktail strong enough to kill a horse.
So she had me stop one of the antibiotics and put me on Prednisone (steroids) to try to reduce the inflammation in my ears.
While this third go-round on meds has helped, somewhat, I'm still definitely sick and my ears are still definitely plugged up. I guess it's been three weeks now, and frankly, I'm really sick of being sick. While I understand my doctor's reasoning in putting me on the Prednisone, I'm worried that doing so perhaps a bit prematurely allowed the underlying bacterial infection to resurrect itself, since steroids suppress the immune system.
I have an appointment this Friday with an ear, nose and throat specialist who perhaps can shed light on all of this.
Meanwhile, I feel that a part-time job I had just started a week before getting sick is in jeopardy, as I have been out repeatedly due to this illness. I missed out on Thanksgiving entirely.
This honestly started out as a post about garlic (!) but I see I have sidetracked significantly into a pity party. Sorry!
For a while there, I was dosing myself with three raw garlic cloves a day, since garlic has anti-bacterial properties. I actually liked the odor and taste of raw garlic. (Can't speak for anyone around me, though.) However, I had to stop doing that after reading the long list of warnings associated with the antibiotic. They specifically mentioned garlic, as I guess it thins the blood.
Well, guess what? I rechecked the med warning papers, and I see that the mention of garlic was on a different antibiotic, one I already finished up. So I guess I can get back to the raw garlic!
I have so much to do, and so much has been deferred. I am not done with my Christmas shopping; I would love to decorate the house. I had hoped to do grocery shopping and the landfill today, but I still feel far too sick; I don't want to see myself slide back after waiting so long for recovery to begin. Just keeping the dishes washed, my cats' litter boxes cleaned out and feeding myself has been about all that I can manage. My neighbors (bless 'em) brought me some homemade beef stew and chicken soup.
You really don't appreciate your good health 'til it's gone, that's for sure.
Monday, October 29, 2012
Storm Prep in Connecticut
Chances are, if you live anywhere in the state of Connecticut, you've been absorbed these last few days with preparing for Tropical Storm Sandy.
Sometimes, the advice you can find online is a bit generic (stock up on batteries, plan an escape route) so I thought I'd share some of my own storm prep tips. Much of these I learned last year during Hurricane Irene.
Fridge & Freezer: The conventional advice is that refrigerated foods will last just four hours without power while a fully stocked freezer should last two days (provided you don't open the door). As the winds pick up and the storm approaches, I'm trying to "eat down" everything in my refrigerator, but I've already had an early "lunch" at 9:45 am, enjoying a full package of Trader Joe's shrimp stuffed wontons, a half an acorn squash (already cooked) and the rest of an opened jar of pickled beets. I'm pretty stuffed!
I decided to take my locally laid farm eggs (9 of 'em), crack them open and freeze them. I've also frozen an opened jar of sun-dried tomatoes in olive oil. Fresh apples and grapes I've already taken out and put in a bowl on the kitchen table; the less I open that fridge door once I lose power, the better. At this point, there's not much left in the fridge except fresh produce, vitamins and lots of condiments. I've also thrown a wool blanket over the entire fridge/freezer.
Fortunately, at least half of the contents in my packed freezer are homegrown tomatoes from my summer garden, and these can safely be refrozen, if need be. I have already turned down the temperature settings in both the refrigerator and freezer to their lowest possible levels.
Tonight, if I still have power, I'll be dining on a very large bowl of Edy's ice cream, just because I buy it so rarely, but it was a heavily discounted treat and one that would have to be tossed early in case of extended power loss.
Outside:
Outside, I dismantled a tall, pole-mounted bird feeder that was not too secure in the soft ground. Anything else that could blow away has already been stored in the garage, including my car.
I cleared two storm drains on the road in front of my house. They were already completely obscured by fallen leaves. I did the same with a length of gutter on my family room roof. Even though it has screens, it readily clogs with all the needles dropping from a nearby white pine. Fortunately, I can easily climb out my upstairs bathroom window onto the shallow roof and removed fistfuls of wet leaves.
I've put my cache of batteries, along with my cell phone, battery-powered shortwave radio and utility company phone numbers in a central location where I can find them easily. I am hopeful that my exterior solar lights (the kind you simply stick in the ground, no wires) will still contain some energy after all these overcast days so I can use them to illuminate my rooms. The light won't be strong enough to read by, but it will make getting around considerably easier.
I have taken what could be my last shower for a while, all dishes are washed and I've turned the heat up here to a balmy 65 degrees, just to have that much more warmth captured inside. I've created a makeshift stand out of scrap wood and bricks to lift 10 large cardboard boxes of Costco cat litter off the basement floor. I'm enjoying what may be my last cup of hot tea for a while. I anticipate losing power at any time now as it's getting pretty gusty out there.
I've been able to cancel two work-related obligations Monday and Tuesday and now it's just me and the kitties.
Friday, October 26, 2012
An Autumn Jaunt at Redding's Huntington State Park
I'd been longing to hike in the woods to enjoy the autumn foliage for the past two weeks, but work kept getting in the way. Finally, I got out there today, on what was forecast to be a sunny day, but Hurricane Sandy turned it into a wholly cloudy, overcast day.
If you're unfamiliar with Huntington, it became a state park in 1973 after it was willed to the state by Archer M. Huntington. Used mostly as agricultural land into the late 1800s, its 1,017 acres today feature eight miles of carriage roads, trails, vernal pools and interesting geologic formations.
A familiar sight to any visitor who pulls in the gravel parking lot off Sunset Hill Road are the twin statues of bears and wolves.
This is a view of a footbridge traversing one of five ponds at the park.
The trail beckons
I'm sorry I didn't take a closer look at the foliage on this tree with handsome furrowed bark.
There were some interesting glacial rocks off the Red Trail. The explorer in me wanted to go scampering up them.
Gnarled mountain laurel branches
This tree trunk is wearing slippers!
Oak leaves on the water's surface
Seasonal colors
A restful place
Pond view
Water, water everywhere...
Sugar maple leaves on the forest floor
If you're unfamiliar with Huntington, it became a state park in 1973 after it was willed to the state by Archer M. Huntington. Used mostly as agricultural land into the late 1800s, its 1,017 acres today feature eight miles of carriage roads, trails, vernal pools and interesting geologic formations.
A familiar sight to any visitor who pulls in the gravel parking lot off Sunset Hill Road are the twin statues of bears and wolves.
This is a view of a footbridge traversing one of five ponds at the park.
The trail beckons
I'm sorry I didn't take a closer look at the foliage on this tree with handsome furrowed bark.
There were some interesting glacial rocks off the Red Trail. The explorer in me wanted to go scampering up them.
Gnarled mountain laurel branches
This tree trunk is wearing slippers!
Oak leaves on the water's surface
Seasonal colors
A restful place
Pond view
Water, water everywhere...
Sugar maple leaves on the forest floor
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
Putting a Price on Home-Grown Vegetables
I already know I reap big dividends from enjoying the superior flavor, freshness and lack of synthetic fertilizers or pesticides in my home vegetable garden. But just for fun, I like to track and weigh my harvest all season long and then calculate the value of the same produce if I were to buy it in the supermarket. When possible, I'll use current organic produce prices in the store, but if an organic equivalent isn't available, I'll use the going price for non-organic produce to establish the value of my own vegetables.
Here, without further ado, is the haul from this year's garden, ranked in order of monetary value:
Tomatoes:148 tomatoes harvested, or 63 pounds! This came from 5 plants that eventually exceeded my height. I have frozen enough to last all winter in delicious soups and stews. I also gave away quite a few to my mother and my auto mechanic. Their non-organic value I calculated at $62 (at .99/lb); I couldn't find organic tomatoes in the store on the day I checked prices, but I imagine they'd cost substantially more.
Stringbeans 25.6 lbs. I overplanted these and was rewarded with more green and yellow beans than I could pick, but I did enjoy them in lots of three-bean salads. Just tonight I enjoyed them in a curry sauce over rice. The non-organic price for stringbeans was $1.49/lb, so the value of my 25 pounds would be at least $38.11.
Lettuce: @14 servings. I have quite a bit of late-summer planted lettuce growing now, but I don't care for this variety and am not eating much of it. The 14 servings came from spring greens that I planted.
Cucumbers: 12. I only had three vines this year and one by one they were hit by wilt and kicked the bucket mid-season.
Wineberries: 4.25 cups. This is just a drop in the bucket compared to previous years, when I picked daily throughout the month of July and froze for winter use, but I was sidelined by a fear of tick encounters, and in fact, I just started on a course of antibiotics after contracting Lyme Disease for the 4th time. I'm angry with myself for letting that happen, as I really do try to be careful, but it appears I'd need to practically chain myself indoors to be assured I wouldn't be bitten.
Zucchini: 9, or 6.78 lbs. Due to space limitations and the desire to try a few new vegetables like cauliflower, collards and soybeans, I only had a single plant, which, like the cucumber vines, met a somewhat early demise.
Cherry tomatoes: 163. I had just two plants and they rewarded me with plenty of perfect little red globes I snacked on like candy. I almost prefer these to the big ones.
Snow peas: Lost my tally but estimate around 2 pounds.
Green pepper 15 (48 oz)
Cauliflower: A single 14 oz. head. These were fun to try growing, but aside from that first head, they got too buggy to consider actually eating.
Broccoli 14.5 oz. I recall only harvesting a single head of broccoli and the rest of the time I picked quite a few of those little side shoots, which worked great in stir fries, although these, too, got so full of tiny green worms that it became more work to pick them out than it was worth. They were so hard to pick out I started getting a little paranoid that I would miss one or two and end up eating them.
Collards: 16 oz. I should have been more on top of the little green worm situation before they got out of hand and riddled the collard leaves with holes.
Basil: 20 servings. I used the basil exclusively to make my own pesto sauce with olive oil, walnuts and parmesan cheese. It's addictive.
Yellow squash: 3 (31 oz). Also a mid-summer victim.
Edamame: 17 oz (unshelled). This was another of my "experiments." I enjoyed eating the bright lime green beans, but realized rather late that I would need to plant many, many more soybeans to really get a decent harvest, and that's unlikely now because I also realized they take up valuable real estate. Unlike regular beans, you have to wait til the end of the season, practically, to harvest them. So their longer growing season would seem to make them somewhat unsuitable for my smaller garden. I'd like to tell you its size, but it's irregularly shaped; it's roughly 150 square feet.
All told, my very conservative estimate of the total value of my produce is $224.39. I say conservative because I used non-organic prices for about half the vegetables, including the tomatoes, which represented the largest harvest.
After deducting for expenses (mainly seeds and seedlings), I figure I netted $170.93.
Then again, I gave away quite a bit of food to my mother, father, mechanic and a neighbor. But that's what growing vegetables is all about, I think. Sharing the bounty.
Can't wait til next year!
Here, without further ado, is the haul from this year's garden, ranked in order of monetary value:
Tomatoes:148 tomatoes harvested, or 63 pounds! This came from 5 plants that eventually exceeded my height. I have frozen enough to last all winter in delicious soups and stews. I also gave away quite a few to my mother and my auto mechanic. Their non-organic value I calculated at $62 (at .99/lb); I couldn't find organic tomatoes in the store on the day I checked prices, but I imagine they'd cost substantially more.
Stringbeans 25.6 lbs. I overplanted these and was rewarded with more green and yellow beans than I could pick, but I did enjoy them in lots of three-bean salads. Just tonight I enjoyed them in a curry sauce over rice. The non-organic price for stringbeans was $1.49/lb, so the value of my 25 pounds would be at least $38.11.
Lettuce: @14 servings. I have quite a bit of late-summer planted lettuce growing now, but I don't care for this variety and am not eating much of it. The 14 servings came from spring greens that I planted.
Cucumbers: 12. I only had three vines this year and one by one they were hit by wilt and kicked the bucket mid-season.
Wineberries: 4.25 cups. This is just a drop in the bucket compared to previous years, when I picked daily throughout the month of July and froze for winter use, but I was sidelined by a fear of tick encounters, and in fact, I just started on a course of antibiotics after contracting Lyme Disease for the 4th time. I'm angry with myself for letting that happen, as I really do try to be careful, but it appears I'd need to practically chain myself indoors to be assured I wouldn't be bitten.
Zucchini: 9, or 6.78 lbs. Due to space limitations and the desire to try a few new vegetables like cauliflower, collards and soybeans, I only had a single plant, which, like the cucumber vines, met a somewhat early demise.
Cherry tomatoes: 163. I had just two plants and they rewarded me with plenty of perfect little red globes I snacked on like candy. I almost prefer these to the big ones.
Snow peas: Lost my tally but estimate around 2 pounds.
Green pepper 15 (48 oz)
Cauliflower: A single 14 oz. head. These were fun to try growing, but aside from that first head, they got too buggy to consider actually eating.
Broccoli 14.5 oz. I recall only harvesting a single head of broccoli and the rest of the time I picked quite a few of those little side shoots, which worked great in stir fries, although these, too, got so full of tiny green worms that it became more work to pick them out than it was worth. They were so hard to pick out I started getting a little paranoid that I would miss one or two and end up eating them.
Collards: 16 oz. I should have been more on top of the little green worm situation before they got out of hand and riddled the collard leaves with holes.
Basil: 20 servings. I used the basil exclusively to make my own pesto sauce with olive oil, walnuts and parmesan cheese. It's addictive.
Yellow squash: 3 (31 oz). Also a mid-summer victim.
Edamame: 17 oz (unshelled). This was another of my "experiments." I enjoyed eating the bright lime green beans, but realized rather late that I would need to plant many, many more soybeans to really get a decent harvest, and that's unlikely now because I also realized they take up valuable real estate. Unlike regular beans, you have to wait til the end of the season, practically, to harvest them. So their longer growing season would seem to make them somewhat unsuitable for my smaller garden. I'd like to tell you its size, but it's irregularly shaped; it's roughly 150 square feet.
All told, my very conservative estimate of the total value of my produce is $224.39. I say conservative because I used non-organic prices for about half the vegetables, including the tomatoes, which represented the largest harvest.
After deducting for expenses (mainly seeds and seedlings), I figure I netted $170.93.
Then again, I gave away quite a bit of food to my mother, father, mechanic and a neighbor. But that's what growing vegetables is all about, I think. Sharing the bounty.
Can't wait til next year!
Thursday, September 13, 2012
Between His Toes: A Maine Coon's Encounter with a Freshly Painted Floor
Luther was a mighty bad boy Monday. MIGHTY bad.
Among my many chores that afternoon, I wanted to paint the floor of a downstairs closet. The wood floor in there had been painted before, and I knew I had the oil-based paint on hand, left over from when I did the sun room floor.
You might guess where this is headed...
I put the first coat down. It stunk to high heaven. Most cats I've had in the past don't need any encouragement to steer clear of such a chemical odor. I needed to keep the door open for it to dry, but I blockaded the entry with a variety of objects.
Just in case.
I opened all the windows, then left to mow the front lawn. After wrapping up with that, I trudged up the hill, looking forward to relaxing with a cold iced tea in the half hour or so I had before running out to pick up my neighbor from work.
I came in the house to find Cocoa Beach enamel paint pawprints in a variety of locales, including the oak floor in the kitchen, the fir floor in the living room, my Moroccan rug, a bamboo mat in the sun room and even the black dining room table! Oh, yes, and on the stairs as well.
Oh, naughty, naughty boy!
After a major freak-out/panic attack, I found I could remove the paint simply by scrubbing hard with a DRY paper towel. The exception was the bamboo mat; the rapidly drying, sticky paint had gotten in between the narrow slats, so on that I had to use some toxic smelling, gasoline-based Goof Off, which worked well. (Afterwards, I closed off that room, left the windows wide open over night and everything was fine in the morning.)
But no, the challenge wasn't over yet, because I realized Luther must have oil paint on all that long fur growing in between his toes. It's a Maine Coon thing.
I had to straddle him, first facing his most unhappy scowl, then facing his rear, and hold up each paw to snip away the paint-soaked fur with a pair of scissors. He was most upset about that. There was a lot of moaning and hissing, but to his credit, he did not try to scratch or bite me, for which I'm grateful.
I made two passes at clipping off the fur, but I knew I couldn't get all of it. Not sure what else I could have done, aside from taking him to the vet to have them anesthetize him and do a more thorough job. But that seemed like an extreme measure, and anesthesia presents its own risks.
He seems fine now.
I put a second coat on the closet floor yesterday and he hasn't shown the least interest in it.
Among my many chores that afternoon, I wanted to paint the floor of a downstairs closet. The wood floor in there had been painted before, and I knew I had the oil-based paint on hand, left over from when I did the sun room floor.
You might guess where this is headed...
I put the first coat down. It stunk to high heaven. Most cats I've had in the past don't need any encouragement to steer clear of such a chemical odor. I needed to keep the door open for it to dry, but I blockaded the entry with a variety of objects.
Just in case.
I opened all the windows, then left to mow the front lawn. After wrapping up with that, I trudged up the hill, looking forward to relaxing with a cold iced tea in the half hour or so I had before running out to pick up my neighbor from work.
I came in the house to find Cocoa Beach enamel paint pawprints in a variety of locales, including the oak floor in the kitchen, the fir floor in the living room, my Moroccan rug, a bamboo mat in the sun room and even the black dining room table! Oh, yes, and on the stairs as well.
Oh, naughty, naughty boy!
After a major freak-out/panic attack, I found I could remove the paint simply by scrubbing hard with a DRY paper towel. The exception was the bamboo mat; the rapidly drying, sticky paint had gotten in between the narrow slats, so on that I had to use some toxic smelling, gasoline-based Goof Off, which worked well. (Afterwards, I closed off that room, left the windows wide open over night and everything was fine in the morning.)
But no, the challenge wasn't over yet, because I realized Luther must have oil paint on all that long fur growing in between his toes. It's a Maine Coon thing.
I had to straddle him, first facing his most unhappy scowl, then facing his rear, and hold up each paw to snip away the paint-soaked fur with a pair of scissors. He was most upset about that. There was a lot of moaning and hissing, but to his credit, he did not try to scratch or bite me, for which I'm grateful.
I made two passes at clipping off the fur, but I knew I couldn't get all of it. Not sure what else I could have done, aside from taking him to the vet to have them anesthetize him and do a more thorough job. But that seemed like an extreme measure, and anesthesia presents its own risks.
He seems fine now.
I put a second coat on the closet floor yesterday and he hasn't shown the least interest in it.
Sunday, September 9, 2012
A Walk at Fairfield Hills and the Labor Day Parade
Why is it that the most beautiful weather days seem to follow really bad weather?
After yesterday's tornado watch, on again, off again rain and blustery winds, this morning arrived with much lower humidity, crisp fresh air and a sunny blue sky.
Althought my mother was coming to pick up some tomatoes from the garden, I couldn't resist slipping out for an early morning walk.
I headed over to Fairfield Hills, but instead of doing the usual walk through the shady woods on the paved asphalt trail, I parked at Reed Middle School and walked down Trades Lane.
Hadn't been there in a while, so was pleased to see the nearly completed new animal shelter.
What an improvement over the old one, wedged in between the landfill and the railroad tracks.
I made a large loop around the sunny corn fields, noticing many cobs still on the stalks. Perhaps they will be harvested soon.
It was so peaceful and quiet; you'd never guess you were in the center of Newtown.
Here's the 2nd Company Governor's Horse Guard, saved from the state budget axe.
This past Labor Day I got to march in my hometown's Labor Day parade. It's the only one in the state. I was marching for a friend's organization that raises funds for disabled war veterans who need to make their homes handicapped accessible. It's the least we can do.
Our division, which was near the front, met at the northern end of Main Street, waiting for the signal to begin. It was fun seeing the many participants in Colonial-era garb. Love the hoop dresses!
I must admit to getting a little choked up when we came around the bend and saw all of Main Street down to the flagpole and beyond, packed with cheering crowds. It was quite a colorful scene.
Good time was had by all. I'd do it again in a heartbeat! As I told my friends and family, when else will I get to see what it's like to be Britney Spears (or any other celebrity)? You know, getting cheered, having your photo taken, throngs of adoring fans...what's not to like??
After yesterday's tornado watch, on again, off again rain and blustery winds, this morning arrived with much lower humidity, crisp fresh air and a sunny blue sky.
Althought my mother was coming to pick up some tomatoes from the garden, I couldn't resist slipping out for an early morning walk.
I headed over to Fairfield Hills, but instead of doing the usual walk through the shady woods on the paved asphalt trail, I parked at Reed Middle School and walked down Trades Lane.
Hadn't been there in a while, so was pleased to see the nearly completed new animal shelter.
What an improvement over the old one, wedged in between the landfill and the railroad tracks.
I made a large loop around the sunny corn fields, noticing many cobs still on the stalks. Perhaps they will be harvested soon.
It was so peaceful and quiet; you'd never guess you were in the center of Newtown.
Here's the 2nd Company Governor's Horse Guard, saved from the state budget axe.
This past Labor Day I got to march in my hometown's Labor Day parade. It's the only one in the state. I was marching for a friend's organization that raises funds for disabled war veterans who need to make their homes handicapped accessible. It's the least we can do.
Our division, which was near the front, met at the northern end of Main Street, waiting for the signal to begin. It was fun seeing the many participants in Colonial-era garb. Love the hoop dresses!
I must admit to getting a little choked up when we came around the bend and saw all of Main Street down to the flagpole and beyond, packed with cheering crowds. It was quite a colorful scene.
Good time was had by all. I'd do it again in a heartbeat! As I told my friends and family, when else will I get to see what it's like to be Britney Spears (or any other celebrity)? You know, getting cheered, having your photo taken, throngs of adoring fans...what's not to like??
Friday, August 17, 2012
The Year of the Bean
Each summer's vegetable garden produces a surplus of some vegetables and a shortage of others, usually due to the vagaries of weather, insect pests and my own random planting patterns.
This year is definitely the Year of the Bean.
I planted four long rows of yellow wax beans and green string beans and I just can't keep up with picking them.
I also tried edamame for the first time this year.
I made this beautiful and delicious summer salad with the edamame I grew, along with my tomatoes:
I pictured myself eating this salad all summer long, but in truth I've only had it twice, mainly because the edamame takes so long to mature. And that's its main drawback, as far as I can see. I also failed to plant anywheres near a sufficient number of them to really enjoy them en masse. Mine are a little tiny; I may have harvested a tad early, but I read so many warnings that there's just a narrow window of time, about 10 days, to harvest the pods before they become inedible. So I watched them closely once they appeared, trying to determine if they were "bright green" (when they should be picked) or "yellowish green, when it was supposedly too late.
Unlike the yellow and green beans, which mature rapidly and can be picked for quite some time, the edamame takes up valuable real estate in the garden but is only harvestable right about now.
They're said to ripen all at the same time and so you're supposed to pull up the whole plant by the roots, as I did, and then boil the whole pods for five minutes. After that, you can easily push the beans out of the pods.
I have only so much space in the garden, so I don't know whether I'd want to plant them again next year. It was a novelty growing them, but perhaps it would be easier to buy them frozen and save space in the garden for faster growers.
In other garden news...
My single zucchini plant and single yellow squash plant bit the dust a few weeks ago, victims of the squash vine borer. I did manage to get 9 zucchinis and 3 yellow squashes, though.
My three cucumber vines also are gone due to wilt. Enjoyed 12 English cucumbers beforehand.
I'll have a complete wrapup of the season's total harvest and its monetary value, based on the organic equivalent found in the supermarket.
Right now, it's Tomato Time and I've been freezing them every other day now.
This year is definitely the Year of the Bean.
I planted four long rows of yellow wax beans and green string beans and I just can't keep up with picking them.
I also tried edamame for the first time this year.
I made this beautiful and delicious summer salad with the edamame I grew, along with my tomatoes:
I pictured myself eating this salad all summer long, but in truth I've only had it twice, mainly because the edamame takes so long to mature. And that's its main drawback, as far as I can see. I also failed to plant anywheres near a sufficient number of them to really enjoy them en masse. Mine are a little tiny; I may have harvested a tad early, but I read so many warnings that there's just a narrow window of time, about 10 days, to harvest the pods before they become inedible. So I watched them closely once they appeared, trying to determine if they were "bright green" (when they should be picked) or "yellowish green, when it was supposedly too late.
Unlike the yellow and green beans, which mature rapidly and can be picked for quite some time, the edamame takes up valuable real estate in the garden but is only harvestable right about now.
They're said to ripen all at the same time and so you're supposed to pull up the whole plant by the roots, as I did, and then boil the whole pods for five minutes. After that, you can easily push the beans out of the pods.
I have only so much space in the garden, so I don't know whether I'd want to plant them again next year. It was a novelty growing them, but perhaps it would be easier to buy them frozen and save space in the garden for faster growers.
In other garden news...
My single zucchini plant and single yellow squash plant bit the dust a few weeks ago, victims of the squash vine borer. I did manage to get 9 zucchinis and 3 yellow squashes, though.
My three cucumber vines also are gone due to wilt. Enjoyed 12 English cucumbers beforehand.
I'll have a complete wrapup of the season's total harvest and its monetary value, based on the organic equivalent found in the supermarket.
Right now, it's Tomato Time and I've been freezing them every other day now.
Sunday, July 29, 2012
Visitors of the Stinging Kind
Have you ever had visitors you're not sure you welcome and yet you're undecided about whether you should drive them away?
Yesterday, I discovered a buzzing hive of activity on a low-hanging branch of my viburnum shrub.
Yes, they are hornets, aka paper wasps.
Their nest is a smooth gray orb about the size of a small cantaloupe. It hangs just three feet high on the large shrub that's smack dab next to the driveway (right side).
As recently as Friday, I mowed the front lawn and came within a few feet of that nest. Nothing happened. I could have easily jostled the lower branches. But all was well.
Yesterday, I had a young couple arrive at the house to purchase a teak cabinet I was selling on Craig's List. I suggested they transport it down my front lawn to their truck in the driveway rather than try negotiating my stairs. As they got near the truck, she brushed up against the shrub, and was quickly stung 2 or 3 times on her arm.
I have to say I was horrified. I routinely get stung once a year, usually yellow jackets nesting in the ground, when I run the lawnmower over them. In fact, I just got stung a few weeks ago. While I'm not allergic, I do swell up like a red beet for as much as a week. It's a painful sting, and it's not fun. But I've never been stung 2 or 3 times at once and I was quite concerned about her reaction, although she said she wasn't allergic.
She was a trooper for sure. She said it was no big deal, turned down my offer of Benadryl and the pair drove off with the teak cabinet. I really hope she doesn't get a delayed reaction, later.
Now I'm left wondering what to do about that hive. If I could be assured that no one would be visiting me here at home for the next three months, I'd just as soon give the hive wide berth and let it be until a hard frost takes care of them. (I'd also like to get my hands on that hive to use as an indoor decoration. It is a rather amazing creation.) This is a feasiblie option since I live alone and I could just mow "around it."
However, I am more concerned for the safety of possible visitors. I don't have many, but who knows when a UPS or FedEx delivery truck might pull up and for whatever reason, choose to exit the vehicle from the right side, as they can do. Not that I have many deliveries. I could make a point to just not order anything online until the fall.
I could put some sort of obstacle in front of the shrub by the hive to prevent people from parking or walking there. Like a wood step ladder. I have been observing the hive from a distance of about 10 feet and it appears safe as long as you're not in wasps' flight path.
This option appeals to me also because I am quite leery of trying to kill the wasps myself, yet in my underemployed state, I don't want to spend money to hire a professional to do it. I've done a lot of reading on the subject and basically have the drill down. You cover every inch of your body so that no skin is exposed. That means, in my view, a winter coat, double pants, boots, gloves, goggles and a helmet. I would need to find/borrow some goggles somewhere. (I'm sure it would be worth a photo.) You wait until dark when all the wasps are snug in bed and then, from a safe distance of 10 or 15 feet, you obliterate them with a steady stream of toxic insecticide.
Not crazy about the use of poison and I'm wary of getting stung. I did read of one woman who said that spraying Murphy's soap worked for her as it coats their wings and they cannot fly, so you can then step on them when they fall to the ground.
Umm, but that would mean getting up close and very personal if you need to step on them. At least with the insecticide spray, you can spray the poison from a safer distance. Also, wouldn't the Murphy's soap tend to clog the sprayer?
On the other hand, I have heard that hornets tend to get more aggressive as the hive gets bigger, and the "territory" they defend in the immediate area of the hive becomes larger.
I have a nice, large vegetable garden that has been largely free of insect pests. Perhaps I have the wasps to thank for that. In recent weeks, I'd also had a horrible infestation of house flies inside my house. I don't know for sure how they were getting in, but I must admit to using used kitty litter to drop down an active woodchuck burrow close to the house. I have used that method in previous years, with success, and it sure beats other methods I've read about that hurt the woodchuck or contaminate your groundwater! But that no doubt attracted flies.
I do have the cats' litter boxes in the basement, and yes, I often am lazy and leave the garage door open overnight; there's enough space for flies to crawl under the basement door that leads into the garage.
My father suggested that all it would take is one fly to get in the house and then lay eggs to create a new generation of flies buzzing around the house. But I can't help but notice the flies are completely gone.
The jury is stil out. Feel free to weigh in!
Yesterday, I discovered a buzzing hive of activity on a low-hanging branch of my viburnum shrub.
Yes, they are hornets, aka paper wasps.
Their nest is a smooth gray orb about the size of a small cantaloupe. It hangs just three feet high on the large shrub that's smack dab next to the driveway (right side).
As recently as Friday, I mowed the front lawn and came within a few feet of that nest. Nothing happened. I could have easily jostled the lower branches. But all was well.
Yesterday, I had a young couple arrive at the house to purchase a teak cabinet I was selling on Craig's List. I suggested they transport it down my front lawn to their truck in the driveway rather than try negotiating my stairs. As they got near the truck, she brushed up against the shrub, and was quickly stung 2 or 3 times on her arm.
I have to say I was horrified. I routinely get stung once a year, usually yellow jackets nesting in the ground, when I run the lawnmower over them. In fact, I just got stung a few weeks ago. While I'm not allergic, I do swell up like a red beet for as much as a week. It's a painful sting, and it's not fun. But I've never been stung 2 or 3 times at once and I was quite concerned about her reaction, although she said she wasn't allergic.
She was a trooper for sure. She said it was no big deal, turned down my offer of Benadryl and the pair drove off with the teak cabinet. I really hope she doesn't get a delayed reaction, later.
Now I'm left wondering what to do about that hive. If I could be assured that no one would be visiting me here at home for the next three months, I'd just as soon give the hive wide berth and let it be until a hard frost takes care of them. (I'd also like to get my hands on that hive to use as an indoor decoration. It is a rather amazing creation.) This is a feasiblie option since I live alone and I could just mow "around it."
However, I am more concerned for the safety of possible visitors. I don't have many, but who knows when a UPS or FedEx delivery truck might pull up and for whatever reason, choose to exit the vehicle from the right side, as they can do. Not that I have many deliveries. I could make a point to just not order anything online until the fall.
I could put some sort of obstacle in front of the shrub by the hive to prevent people from parking or walking there. Like a wood step ladder. I have been observing the hive from a distance of about 10 feet and it appears safe as long as you're not in wasps' flight path.
This option appeals to me also because I am quite leery of trying to kill the wasps myself, yet in my underemployed state, I don't want to spend money to hire a professional to do it. I've done a lot of reading on the subject and basically have the drill down. You cover every inch of your body so that no skin is exposed. That means, in my view, a winter coat, double pants, boots, gloves, goggles and a helmet. I would need to find/borrow some goggles somewhere. (I'm sure it would be worth a photo.) You wait until dark when all the wasps are snug in bed and then, from a safe distance of 10 or 15 feet, you obliterate them with a steady stream of toxic insecticide.
Not crazy about the use of poison and I'm wary of getting stung. I did read of one woman who said that spraying Murphy's soap worked for her as it coats their wings and they cannot fly, so you can then step on them when they fall to the ground.
Umm, but that would mean getting up close and very personal if you need to step on them. At least with the insecticide spray, you can spray the poison from a safer distance. Also, wouldn't the Murphy's soap tend to clog the sprayer?
On the other hand, I have heard that hornets tend to get more aggressive as the hive gets bigger, and the "territory" they defend in the immediate area of the hive becomes larger.
I have a nice, large vegetable garden that has been largely free of insect pests. Perhaps I have the wasps to thank for that. In recent weeks, I'd also had a horrible infestation of house flies inside my house. I don't know for sure how they were getting in, but I must admit to using used kitty litter to drop down an active woodchuck burrow close to the house. I have used that method in previous years, with success, and it sure beats other methods I've read about that hurt the woodchuck or contaminate your groundwater! But that no doubt attracted flies.
I do have the cats' litter boxes in the basement, and yes, I often am lazy and leave the garage door open overnight; there's enough space for flies to crawl under the basement door that leads into the garage.
My father suggested that all it would take is one fly to get in the house and then lay eggs to create a new generation of flies buzzing around the house. But I can't help but notice the flies are completely gone.
The jury is stil out. Feel free to weigh in!
Tuesday, July 17, 2012
My Version of a Miracle: Cauliflower Baby
They say cauliflower's hard to grow. I casually planted a few seeds last May, not expecting much. And then I discovered that one of my leafy, bowl-shaped plants was hiding this!
It's only about two inches wide, but suddenly, I was VERY interested in growing this little thing. Did some quick online research. You're supposed to time the planting so that they DON'T come to maturity in the heat of summer. Oops. Mine looks like it's doing great despite 2 weeks of very high and humid temperatures. I "blanched" the head, meaning that i loosely folded over some of the leaves to cover the top and protect it from strong sunlight, which can alter the taste and make it turn green.
So exciting!
Saturday, July 7, 2012
Nature is not always kind
The forecast for a 30% chance of rain today got me outdoors earlier this morning to mow the back lawn. I was about 80% done with it (can you tell I like percentages?) when I felt a nasty burning sensation in my left leg, just below the knee.
I'd been stung by a hornet. I walked, half ran down the Stairway to Heaven toward the garage, abandoning the lawn mower. I realized now the hornet was chasing me so I dove inside the garage and closed the door.
Back inside the house, I quickly downed an antihistamine. I'm not deathly allergic, but when I get stung (and it seems to happen once a year or so), the swelling lasts a full week. Even now, I see an angry red blotch is spreading across my leg.
A little while later, I decided I needed to rescue the lawnmower in case it rained later, so I pulled on a pair of jeans, a corduroy jacket with hood, all buttoned up, and a pair of gloves. If a neighbor saw me out there, they clearly must've thought I was crazy. It's only 90 degrees out there.
Next, I decided to head down to the vegetable garden in the front of the yard to hand-pollinate my squashes. I was in luck: there was a female blossom open and waiting for my attention, so i dabbed a q-tip on a male blossom and then on the stigma, if I remember my high school biology right.
Before I knew it, I had collected a large bowl of yellow wax beans and green string beans, and I spied the season's first cucumber ready for picking.
While I was so occupied, I noticed a commotion in a spruce near the perimeter of my property. A group of four crows were showing inordinate interest in the spruce's dense inner branches. Suddenly, a mourning dove came dropping fast out of the tree and it almost seemed to stumble across the surface of the lawn as it fluttered low toward the shelter of a large burning bush.
I walked toward the spruce, flushing first one crow, then another and another. I thought there was one more in there, but I couldn't see anything. Seconds later, it emerged, rising high in the air as it flapped its wings to gain altitude, carrying in its beak a large mourning dove chick.
It was a helpless feeling to watch it carry its prize off to the treetops of the white pines. It galled me that a crow would snatch a chick right out from under its mother. Crows are known to be smart birds, and I'm guessing they're smarter than a mourning dove. Had they decided to gang up on the mourning dove to mob her or distract her while another crow made off with her baby?
I guess I'll never know that and I'm just torturing myself by speculating. I would have been saddened to see any bird attacked by crows, but the mourning dove, especially, seems like more of a victim. It's so placid and peaceful in its habits.
I know, crows have to eat too, although I wish they'd stick to roadkill. A small flock of hyperactive house finches caroused and quarreled nearby, shortly after the carnage. They seemed unperturbed, or unaware of, what happened.
I guess this kind of things happens every day, but most people probably wouldn't bother to investigate a group of noisy crows. I kind of wish I hadn't seen it.
I'd been stung by a hornet. I walked, half ran down the Stairway to Heaven toward the garage, abandoning the lawn mower. I realized now the hornet was chasing me so I dove inside the garage and closed the door.
Back inside the house, I quickly downed an antihistamine. I'm not deathly allergic, but when I get stung (and it seems to happen once a year or so), the swelling lasts a full week. Even now, I see an angry red blotch is spreading across my leg.
A little while later, I decided I needed to rescue the lawnmower in case it rained later, so I pulled on a pair of jeans, a corduroy jacket with hood, all buttoned up, and a pair of gloves. If a neighbor saw me out there, they clearly must've thought I was crazy. It's only 90 degrees out there.
Next, I decided to head down to the vegetable garden in the front of the yard to hand-pollinate my squashes. I was in luck: there was a female blossom open and waiting for my attention, so i dabbed a q-tip on a male blossom and then on the stigma, if I remember my high school biology right.
Before I knew it, I had collected a large bowl of yellow wax beans and green string beans, and I spied the season's first cucumber ready for picking.
While I was so occupied, I noticed a commotion in a spruce near the perimeter of my property. A group of four crows were showing inordinate interest in the spruce's dense inner branches. Suddenly, a mourning dove came dropping fast out of the tree and it almost seemed to stumble across the surface of the lawn as it fluttered low toward the shelter of a large burning bush.
I walked toward the spruce, flushing first one crow, then another and another. I thought there was one more in there, but I couldn't see anything. Seconds later, it emerged, rising high in the air as it flapped its wings to gain altitude, carrying in its beak a large mourning dove chick.
It was a helpless feeling to watch it carry its prize off to the treetops of the white pines. It galled me that a crow would snatch a chick right out from under its mother. Crows are known to be smart birds, and I'm guessing they're smarter than a mourning dove. Had they decided to gang up on the mourning dove to mob her or distract her while another crow made off with her baby?
I guess I'll never know that and I'm just torturing myself by speculating. I would have been saddened to see any bird attacked by crows, but the mourning dove, especially, seems like more of a victim. It's so placid and peaceful in its habits.
I know, crows have to eat too, although I wish they'd stick to roadkill. A small flock of hyperactive house finches caroused and quarreled nearby, shortly after the carnage. They seemed unperturbed, or unaware of, what happened.
I guess this kind of things happens every day, but most people probably wouldn't bother to investigate a group of noisy crows. I kind of wish I hadn't seen it.
Wednesday, July 4, 2012
Holy Hypertufa!
I have long wanted to try my hand at making the lovely and rustic hypertufa planters. After reading yet another blog post about it, I finally decided that yes, this is something I can do.
First, you'll need the following supplies:
1. Portland cement
2. Perlite
3. Peat moss
You'll be mixing equal parts of all three ingredients with water, so plan accordingly when you make your trip to Home Depot.
It's also quite handy to have a garden hose near by. You really want to be making your hypertufa in the shade, so a garage is a pretty good spot.
Don't make the mistake I did when I didn't purchase actual Portland cement. I bought a bag of some other kind of mix that had lots of gravel in it. I went ahead and used it, but it mostly fell apart. You really do need Portland cement, which is a very fine powder which you will be tamping and firming down for good adhesion.
Now for the fun part....finding the right containers. I rummaged around my home, from basement to attic, and found quite a few containers that I thought would work. You want to steer clear of glass or metal, which won't be easy to remove from the dried cement. The best things to use are plastic or cardboard. These are somewhat bendable and aid in the mold removal process.
Here are some of my containers. I sacrified an old hat box as well as a plastic popcorn bowl I got for free from Orville Redenbacher for eating a lot of popcorn. If you don't have much around the house, a dollar store is a great place to rummage. Avoid using any container that has a lip around the top edge, as this will be an impediment to removing your mold.
The trick is to find a smaller container that fits well inside a larger container. Remember that you will be filling the space between the two containers with cement. Ideally, the gap between the containers should be at least 3/4" to as much as 2 inches wide. The larger the container, the larger the gap.
Before you do anything, put on a face mask and wear rubber gloves!! Mix equal parts of the Portland cement, perlite and peat moss. Use your hands to carefully mix the dry ingredients together. Then add water, a little at a time, and mix well until it resembles cottage cheese. You want everything well blended, but not soaking wet. Too much water weakens the strength of the pot.
Be sure to use a cooking spray like Pam to coat all sides of the larger and smaller containers that will be in contact with the concrete. This will facilitate mold removal.
When your cement is well mixed, begin using a trowel (I used my gloved hands) to pour a layer on the bottom of the larger container of about one inch thick. Tamp it down firmly. Then place your small container inside the larger one. It's a good idea to fill it with sand or a brick or maybe a few rocks to help steady it as you fill around it. Press the cement down firmly and level off the top as best you can. A small block of wood works well for this.
Here's what mine looked like, filled and ready to dry.
Put the containers in a shady spot and wrap them with plastic. They should be allowed to dry for at least 24 hours, or maybe 36. After that period of time, test dryness by trying to scrape the edge of a pot with your fingernail. If you can easily scrape off some cement, it needs more drying time.
When you've determined it's dry enough, remove the inner container. Gently bend it if it's plastic. Then remove the larger container, carefully. Now the pot needs to cure for a good three weeks.
After that, you'll want to put it outside and keep filling it with water for about a week. This will help leach out excess lime that could otherwise harm your plants.
That's pretty much all I've learned about making hypertufa. In the first batch that I made, two of the five pots were no good because I used the wrong kind of cement, as mentioned earlier. And I could see that I hadn't really tamped down the concerete well enough, allowing a pebbly surface to remain, and this just fell off the pot when it dried.
Here's what my first three pots look like, still curing:
OK, not exactly what I had in mind. My mistake, I think, was in not really tamping down the top edge of the pots; that's why they look all crumbly. I worked a little on them with a stiff wire brush to try to smooth them out. The idea is to make them look like they've been around for a hundred years, and with these you could see a somewhat artificial looking lip around the top of the pots. But I'll be working on them. They were still a little too friable when I brushed them before.
I know they don't look like much now, but try to picture them with a few nice succulents, nestled in little spots through the garden. I can't wait!
In other news, here's an old colander my mother was going to throw away. I lined it with burlap and made another planter with it.
First, you'll need the following supplies:
1. Portland cement
2. Perlite
3. Peat moss
You'll be mixing equal parts of all three ingredients with water, so plan accordingly when you make your trip to Home Depot.
It's also quite handy to have a garden hose near by. You really want to be making your hypertufa in the shade, so a garage is a pretty good spot.
Don't make the mistake I did when I didn't purchase actual Portland cement. I bought a bag of some other kind of mix that had lots of gravel in it. I went ahead and used it, but it mostly fell apart. You really do need Portland cement, which is a very fine powder which you will be tamping and firming down for good adhesion.
Now for the fun part....finding the right containers. I rummaged around my home, from basement to attic, and found quite a few containers that I thought would work. You want to steer clear of glass or metal, which won't be easy to remove from the dried cement. The best things to use are plastic or cardboard. These are somewhat bendable and aid in the mold removal process.
Here are some of my containers. I sacrified an old hat box as well as a plastic popcorn bowl I got for free from Orville Redenbacher for eating a lot of popcorn. If you don't have much around the house, a dollar store is a great place to rummage. Avoid using any container that has a lip around the top edge, as this will be an impediment to removing your mold.
The trick is to find a smaller container that fits well inside a larger container. Remember that you will be filling the space between the two containers with cement. Ideally, the gap between the containers should be at least 3/4" to as much as 2 inches wide. The larger the container, the larger the gap.
Before you do anything, put on a face mask and wear rubber gloves!! Mix equal parts of the Portland cement, perlite and peat moss. Use your hands to carefully mix the dry ingredients together. Then add water, a little at a time, and mix well until it resembles cottage cheese. You want everything well blended, but not soaking wet. Too much water weakens the strength of the pot.
Be sure to use a cooking spray like Pam to coat all sides of the larger and smaller containers that will be in contact with the concrete. This will facilitate mold removal.
When your cement is well mixed, begin using a trowel (I used my gloved hands) to pour a layer on the bottom of the larger container of about one inch thick. Tamp it down firmly. Then place your small container inside the larger one. It's a good idea to fill it with sand or a brick or maybe a few rocks to help steady it as you fill around it. Press the cement down firmly and level off the top as best you can. A small block of wood works well for this.
Here's what mine looked like, filled and ready to dry.
Put the containers in a shady spot and wrap them with plastic. They should be allowed to dry for at least 24 hours, or maybe 36. After that period of time, test dryness by trying to scrape the edge of a pot with your fingernail. If you can easily scrape off some cement, it needs more drying time.
When you've determined it's dry enough, remove the inner container. Gently bend it if it's plastic. Then remove the larger container, carefully. Now the pot needs to cure for a good three weeks.
After that, you'll want to put it outside and keep filling it with water for about a week. This will help leach out excess lime that could otherwise harm your plants.
That's pretty much all I've learned about making hypertufa. In the first batch that I made, two of the five pots were no good because I used the wrong kind of cement, as mentioned earlier. And I could see that I hadn't really tamped down the concerete well enough, allowing a pebbly surface to remain, and this just fell off the pot when it dried.
Here's what my first three pots look like, still curing:
OK, not exactly what I had in mind. My mistake, I think, was in not really tamping down the top edge of the pots; that's why they look all crumbly. I worked a little on them with a stiff wire brush to try to smooth them out. The idea is to make them look like they've been around for a hundred years, and with these you could see a somewhat artificial looking lip around the top of the pots. But I'll be working on them. They were still a little too friable when I brushed them before.
I know they don't look like much now, but try to picture them with a few nice succulents, nestled in little spots through the garden. I can't wait!
In other news, here's an old colander my mother was going to throw away. I lined it with burlap and made another planter with it.
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Bird Magnet
There's a volunteer mulberry tree growing near the house that in just a few years has reached over 15 feet high. From my second floor office window, I have the perfect vantage point to watch the many birds that are flocking to it.
The small, oval-shaped mulberries are an unripe white, not black, but the birds aren't waiting. They are stripping them off as if they just emerged from a famine. It's the same thing with my doublefile viburnum. I rarely see the red berries because they're gone long before they fully ripen.
The mulberry tree is shading out a large, spreading gooseberry which is loaded with gooseberries now. I have neither the time or energy to transplant the thorny shrub, so if it makes it, great, if not que sera, sera.
Perhaps the mulberry tree will also shade out the oats that have become invasive. I honestly don't remember if these are the wild oats known to be invasive or if these are domesticated, but after a few years of getting established, they did indeed become a problem. Sigh. I thought their seed heads would look nice in dried arrangements, and indeed they do.
A large part of my "gardening" efforts seem to be centered on controlling or attempting to get rid of a variety of invasives. Some, like the pachysandra were here when I bought my house 17 years ago. Huge swaths of pachysandra still exist, though I have gotten rid of a fair amount of it, as much for the purpose of reducing tick habitat as anything else.
The barberry is mostly gone, though I did notice several bushes in the back that should ideally be removed. Bittersweet will always be present, I'm afraid. As will the garlic mustard. This is the first year I'm seriously tackling the vinca. I'm afraid that was one of my own doing. I vaguely recall transplanting something from the front of the yard to the picket fence garden and there may have been a bit of vinca in the soil at the time. Not having experienced the horror of its spread, I didn't think much of it. Until now.
The vinca has totally engulfed 4 or 5 blueberry bushes which I mostly haven't paid attention to over the years because their berry output was negigible, and the birds got to them before me, anyway.
This year, there's one waist-high plant absolutely covered in green blueberries. So now I'm reluctant to give up on what must be 15-year old blueberry plants. It took them that long to get established. Periodically, I'd throw some white pine needles down around them, but that's about it.
I've been researching how best to eradicate the vinca, and there seems to be a limited number of options:
1. Dig and pull out manually.
2. Mow or use trimmer to cut vinca down to ground level. Cover with clear plastic and several inches of mulch, upon which you plant anew. Yes, the idea is that you plant on top of the plastic and the vinca. This might work if you have no pre-existing plants you want to save.
Roundup is said to be ineffective on vinca because of the leaves' waxy coating. I wouldn't want to spray that much Roundup 'round here anyway, as I have toads and garter snakes. I reserve it for spot treatments of poison ivy.
So I've been digging. It's back-breaking work. The roots are very strong and hard to pull out, especially around the blueberry bushes, which are said to have shallow roots themselves. I fear I will never be rid of the vinca. Because I've had Lyme Disease three times, I'm wearing my fisherman's hip boots in there.
In the past, I'd made a mistake, when seeking to clear a large area, of deciding to try to clear/weed/hack down everything all at once and only then would I decide what to plant in its place. Well, the problem with that is that clearing a large area can take weeks, and by that time, new weeds are already taking over.
So I decided to consolidate my gains with the vinca patch and, rightly or wrongly, wound up transplanting a half dozen coral bells and an astilbe in the roughly 5-foot-square plot I'd cleared. I then cut a large piece of plastic, cut holes for the plants I'd just planted and plan to get a pile of free mulch from the landfill today to apply over the plastic.
I suspect this won't be fool-proof as the vinca can come up through the openings I've made for the new plants. But what's the alternative? Look at ugly sheets of plastic all summer?
Suggestions welcome!
I would like to get this fenced garden under control. Actually, my overriding goal would be to make it as low-maintenance as possible. Each summer I'm so busy with other chores, my vegetable garden and other perennial beds, this area just gets ignored.
It's a large rectangular area close to the house on the north side; probably 12 x 25 feet long. It's surrounded by invasives right now: a huge sea of pachysandra on the one side with the vinca having spread to almost half of it and the oats on the other side making inroads.
I want to keep the 4 or 5 blueberry bushes. I have already started chopping down the three dwarf cherry trees I had in there. They grew easily but then came under attack from some disease that caused the ends of branches to dry up. I researched it at the time and know it needed spraying, but my reluctance to use toxic sprays was greater than my desire to eat cherries, so I never sprayed.
I also have some sort of willow shrub in there and because part of it is shady, I have some nice shade-loving perennials including hosta, Jacob's ladder, astilbe and bleeding heart. There's also a lot of spiderwort (invasive in its own right, I find) and who knows what else.
The small, oval-shaped mulberries are an unripe white, not black, but the birds aren't waiting. They are stripping them off as if they just emerged from a famine. It's the same thing with my doublefile viburnum. I rarely see the red berries because they're gone long before they fully ripen.
The mulberry tree is shading out a large, spreading gooseberry which is loaded with gooseberries now. I have neither the time or energy to transplant the thorny shrub, so if it makes it, great, if not que sera, sera.
Perhaps the mulberry tree will also shade out the oats that have become invasive. I honestly don't remember if these are the wild oats known to be invasive or if these are domesticated, but after a few years of getting established, they did indeed become a problem. Sigh. I thought their seed heads would look nice in dried arrangements, and indeed they do.
A large part of my "gardening" efforts seem to be centered on controlling or attempting to get rid of a variety of invasives. Some, like the pachysandra were here when I bought my house 17 years ago. Huge swaths of pachysandra still exist, though I have gotten rid of a fair amount of it, as much for the purpose of reducing tick habitat as anything else.
The barberry is mostly gone, though I did notice several bushes in the back that should ideally be removed. Bittersweet will always be present, I'm afraid. As will the garlic mustard. This is the first year I'm seriously tackling the vinca. I'm afraid that was one of my own doing. I vaguely recall transplanting something from the front of the yard to the picket fence garden and there may have been a bit of vinca in the soil at the time. Not having experienced the horror of its spread, I didn't think much of it. Until now.
The vinca has totally engulfed 4 or 5 blueberry bushes which I mostly haven't paid attention to over the years because their berry output was negigible, and the birds got to them before me, anyway.
This year, there's one waist-high plant absolutely covered in green blueberries. So now I'm reluctant to give up on what must be 15-year old blueberry plants. It took them that long to get established. Periodically, I'd throw some white pine needles down around them, but that's about it.
I've been researching how best to eradicate the vinca, and there seems to be a limited number of options:
1. Dig and pull out manually.
2. Mow or use trimmer to cut vinca down to ground level. Cover with clear plastic and several inches of mulch, upon which you plant anew. Yes, the idea is that you plant on top of the plastic and the vinca. This might work if you have no pre-existing plants you want to save.
Roundup is said to be ineffective on vinca because of the leaves' waxy coating. I wouldn't want to spray that much Roundup 'round here anyway, as I have toads and garter snakes. I reserve it for spot treatments of poison ivy.
So I've been digging. It's back-breaking work. The roots are very strong and hard to pull out, especially around the blueberry bushes, which are said to have shallow roots themselves. I fear I will never be rid of the vinca. Because I've had Lyme Disease three times, I'm wearing my fisherman's hip boots in there.
In the past, I'd made a mistake, when seeking to clear a large area, of deciding to try to clear/weed/hack down everything all at once and only then would I decide what to plant in its place. Well, the problem with that is that clearing a large area can take weeks, and by that time, new weeds are already taking over.
So I decided to consolidate my gains with the vinca patch and, rightly or wrongly, wound up transplanting a half dozen coral bells and an astilbe in the roughly 5-foot-square plot I'd cleared. I then cut a large piece of plastic, cut holes for the plants I'd just planted and plan to get a pile of free mulch from the landfill today to apply over the plastic.
I suspect this won't be fool-proof as the vinca can come up through the openings I've made for the new plants. But what's the alternative? Look at ugly sheets of plastic all summer?
Suggestions welcome!
I would like to get this fenced garden under control. Actually, my overriding goal would be to make it as low-maintenance as possible. Each summer I'm so busy with other chores, my vegetable garden and other perennial beds, this area just gets ignored.
It's a large rectangular area close to the house on the north side; probably 12 x 25 feet long. It's surrounded by invasives right now: a huge sea of pachysandra on the one side with the vinca having spread to almost half of it and the oats on the other side making inroads.
I want to keep the 4 or 5 blueberry bushes. I have already started chopping down the three dwarf cherry trees I had in there. They grew easily but then came under attack from some disease that caused the ends of branches to dry up. I researched it at the time and know it needed spraying, but my reluctance to use toxic sprays was greater than my desire to eat cherries, so I never sprayed.
I also have some sort of willow shrub in there and because part of it is shady, I have some nice shade-loving perennials including hosta, Jacob's ladder, astilbe and bleeding heart. There's also a lot of spiderwort (invasive in its own right, I find) and who knows what else.
Sunday, June 10, 2012
Time to Catch Up!
Oh, my. No posts since February? That's unconscionable. Truth be told, I opened one too many Google accounts and the site wasn't accepting what I thought was my password.
What's new from the past three months?
A pair of bluebirds successfully fledged in one of of the nestboxest at Owl Hollow. This evening I had the pleasure of sitting on the front stoop with a bottle of Beck's, surveying my wild kingdom, while flashes of blue whizzed past me, left to right, then right to left. There were three or four of them, the babies, I'm convinced, practicing their insect-hunting skills.
I'm still seeing bluebirds spending a lot of time at the now cleaned out nest box. If they nested a second time, that would be the first time they would have done so in a single season. But I also saw a house wren there, and, a few weeks ago, the dreaded English sparrows.
In fact, I first saw English sparrows at the box a day after I cleaned out the old bluebird nest. I noted the date, and watched wtih grim determination as the sparrows set about nest-building. I had already decided I was going to addle their eggs and puncture them with a small needle, to be doubly sure the eggs didn't hatch. I wanted to make sure that all the eggs that were going to be laid were laid, and yet I didn't want to wait too long because I know I couldn't harm live baby birds, English sparrows or not.
I marked my calendar for the day and when I went to open the box, I was much surprised that the nest had been only half built inside, and no eggs. The sparrows seemed to have abandoned the project, for reasons unknown.
Fine by me.I hope they've moved on.
The vegetable garden is off to a good start. Well, mostly. The broccoli, cauliflower and collards are taking a beating from insects. I had gone to the trouble of draping a fine mesh fabric over the broccoli to see if I could save them from insects, but in truth it seems to have had little beneficial effect. Are the bugs coming from the ground? otherwise, I don't know how they got in there. I did pick off about 5 small worms on one plant, but that's all I could find.
The pea pods are doing really great and already are flowering, so the pods won't be far behind. I've begun picking lettuce. The yellow wax beans, green string beans and soybeans are coming along. I have 8 tomato plants this year, some cherry, some regular sized. There was also room for a single zucchini plant and a single yellow squash. Oh, yes, and of course, 3 cucumber plants, several bell peppers, an eggplant in a pot and lots of basil for my pesto sauce. (Can't live without it.)
The hummingbirds returned in early May and have me well-trained for refreshing their sugar water every 3 or 4 days. Any longer and it gets moldy. I was also still feeding black sunflower oil on the back patio, from a triple tube feeder hanging from the dying dogwood tree, but I let it go when the English sparrows became a regular sight. I'd like to start it up again. Rose-breasted grosbeaks were regulars there.
What's new from the past three months?
A pair of bluebirds successfully fledged in one of of the nestboxest at Owl Hollow. This evening I had the pleasure of sitting on the front stoop with a bottle of Beck's, surveying my wild kingdom, while flashes of blue whizzed past me, left to right, then right to left. There were three or four of them, the babies, I'm convinced, practicing their insect-hunting skills.
I'm still seeing bluebirds spending a lot of time at the now cleaned out nest box. If they nested a second time, that would be the first time they would have done so in a single season. But I also saw a house wren there, and, a few weeks ago, the dreaded English sparrows.
In fact, I first saw English sparrows at the box a day after I cleaned out the old bluebird nest. I noted the date, and watched wtih grim determination as the sparrows set about nest-building. I had already decided I was going to addle their eggs and puncture them with a small needle, to be doubly sure the eggs didn't hatch. I wanted to make sure that all the eggs that were going to be laid were laid, and yet I didn't want to wait too long because I know I couldn't harm live baby birds, English sparrows or not.
I marked my calendar for the day and when I went to open the box, I was much surprised that the nest had been only half built inside, and no eggs. The sparrows seemed to have abandoned the project, for reasons unknown.
Fine by me.I hope they've moved on.
The vegetable garden is off to a good start. Well, mostly. The broccoli, cauliflower and collards are taking a beating from insects. I had gone to the trouble of draping a fine mesh fabric over the broccoli to see if I could save them from insects, but in truth it seems to have had little beneficial effect. Are the bugs coming from the ground? otherwise, I don't know how they got in there. I did pick off about 5 small worms on one plant, but that's all I could find.
The pea pods are doing really great and already are flowering, so the pods won't be far behind. I've begun picking lettuce. The yellow wax beans, green string beans and soybeans are coming along. I have 8 tomato plants this year, some cherry, some regular sized. There was also room for a single zucchini plant and a single yellow squash. Oh, yes, and of course, 3 cucumber plants, several bell peppers, an eggplant in a pot and lots of basil for my pesto sauce. (Can't live without it.)
The hummingbirds returned in early May and have me well-trained for refreshing their sugar water every 3 or 4 days. Any longer and it gets moldy. I was also still feeding black sunflower oil on the back patio, from a triple tube feeder hanging from the dying dogwood tree, but I let it go when the English sparrows became a regular sight. I'd like to start it up again. Rose-breasted grosbeaks were regulars there.
Sunday, February 26, 2012
Luscious lichens and shredded bark
I saw these most amazing lichens on a tree trunk at a local garden nursery last fall. Aren't they gorgeous? They are the colors of the sea.
I was also fascinated by the bronze-colored shredded bark on this conifer. I wish I'd made note of what it was, although now that I think about it, it wasn't marked.
A pair of bluebirds continues to show every intention of setting up housekeeping in the nest box just outside my office window. Last fall, I put a good-sized wad of soft cat hair I'd collected inside that box, for the comfort of the woodpeckers or other songbirds that occasionally shelter there in bad weather. I haven't noticed the bluebirds removing those gifts from Waldo and Luther, so I trust they don't find them objectionable. Me wonders if they will use it to line their nest or just build on top of it. We shall see.
I was also fascinated by the bronze-colored shredded bark on this conifer. I wish I'd made note of what it was, although now that I think about it, it wasn't marked.
A pair of bluebirds continues to show every intention of setting up housekeeping in the nest box just outside my office window. Last fall, I put a good-sized wad of soft cat hair I'd collected inside that box, for the comfort of the woodpeckers or other songbirds that occasionally shelter there in bad weather. I haven't noticed the bluebirds removing those gifts from Waldo and Luther, so I trust they don't find them objectionable. Me wonders if they will use it to line their nest or just build on top of it. We shall see.
Sunday, February 19, 2012
Hints of Spring
I've noticed a pair of bluebirds showing interest in a nest box here that's usually dominated by house wrens.
And the snowdrops are in bloom!
Tonight's dinner was black bean pumpkin soup. Oh so easy and mighty good.
Black Bean-Pumpkin Soup
1/2 cup chopped onion
3 or 4 garlic cloves
4 cups vegetable or chicken broth
2 cups cooked black beans
1 can of pureed pumpkin
1 can of diced tomatoes (I used frozen, from last summer's garden)
1 T. cumin
1 t. cinnamon
freshly ground pepper
allspice
In a big pot, saute the onion and garlic in olive oil til soft.
Puree the black beans and tomatoes in the blender with half of the broth.
Transfer this and the rest of the broth to the big pot.
Add the pumpkin and spices and cook for about 40 minutes.
Very good with a salad and crusty bread, like Trader Joe's Rustico Bread.
Tonight's dinner was black bean pumpkin soup. Oh so easy and mighty good.
Black Bean-Pumpkin Soup
1/2 cup chopped onion
3 or 4 garlic cloves
4 cups vegetable or chicken broth
2 cups cooked black beans
1 can of pureed pumpkin
1 can of diced tomatoes (I used frozen, from last summer's garden)
1 T. cumin
1 t. cinnamon
freshly ground pepper
allspice
In a big pot, saute the onion and garlic in olive oil til soft.
Puree the black beans and tomatoes in the blender with half of the broth.
Transfer this and the rest of the broth to the big pot.
Add the pumpkin and spices and cook for about 40 minutes.
Very good with a salad and crusty bread, like Trader Joe's Rustico Bread.
Friday, November 25, 2011
The Pileated Returns!
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!
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.
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