first thorough frost last night. boy and i walked out through the yard in the early morning, he in his fresh clothes and coat and hat, me in my pajamas and boots. picked up a frosted maple leaf for him to hold, crispy and covered in ice crystals, and his hand melted it as we walked. sun just touching the tops of the trees.
passed the pile of soil that he played in, barefoot, two days ago. the ridges where his feet and hands made shallow craters were capped with frost, like a mountain range viewed from above, dark valleys and silver ridges.
three baby mice and counting.
harvested our butternut squash (14) and pumpkin (1!) two days ago.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Mouse
mice have moved in to our kitchen, following the warmth.
set a havahart trap last night and found a little baby one in it this morning. all head and tail and feet. it was watching me, wide-eyed, when i opened the cabinet door to check the trap.
brought it down the road, boy and i, and i sat with the trap door open for a few minutes as it got its bearings, as it met the outdoors, plants, earth. then in one large, clumsy hop, it left the trap, and scurried under the virginia creeper vines. i put a little pile of almonds on the ground near where it hid.
now i'm at home, eating my oatmeal, and a little creature, new to the world, is miles from its mother and her milk and their home.
set a havahart trap last night and found a little baby one in it this morning. all head and tail and feet. it was watching me, wide-eyed, when i opened the cabinet door to check the trap.
brought it down the road, boy and i, and i sat with the trap door open for a few minutes as it got its bearings, as it met the outdoors, plants, earth. then in one large, clumsy hop, it left the trap, and scurried under the virginia creeper vines. i put a little pile of almonds on the ground near where it hid.
now i'm at home, eating my oatmeal, and a little creature, new to the world, is miles from its mother and her milk and their home.
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
Sunflowers
early morning stroll around the yard with the babe, greeting the cut flower bed, the squash and pumpkin patch, young plum grove, vegetable garden, apple trees. visited my sit spot for the first time in months, the old pine now sheltering a storage shed for family's work trucks.
remembered the exercises to open up awareness: paying attention to each of my senses in turn, lifting myself out of my thoughts and into the moment, the day as it brightens and warms. dog meandered in to my vision, a dark little shape on the dew-wet lawn. he paused, blind boy, lifted his nose to the air, caught our scent, and wagged his tail lazily.
a songbird landed on the garden fence. dew drops hanging from the fence wires glistened each time the bird shifted position. a few moments later, the dill, tall and lovely, was a dancer, shimmering alone in the still garden, and then the little bird that had been perched low on it flew up and away.
the sun rising slowly above the pines. dark band of trees like a theater curtain upside-down, lowering away from the sun, the sun taking its place in the sky.
sunflowers, the small row i planted this year, all in their bulging, pregnant state, flowers giving way to seed. like adolescent creatures, bedecked yet in the beauty of youth, looking down at the earth in bewilderment of their blossoming selves.
remembered the exercises to open up awareness: paying attention to each of my senses in turn, lifting myself out of my thoughts and into the moment, the day as it brightens and warms. dog meandered in to my vision, a dark little shape on the dew-wet lawn. he paused, blind boy, lifted his nose to the air, caught our scent, and wagged his tail lazily.
a songbird landed on the garden fence. dew drops hanging from the fence wires glistened each time the bird shifted position. a few moments later, the dill, tall and lovely, was a dancer, shimmering alone in the still garden, and then the little bird that had been perched low on it flew up and away.
the sun rising slowly above the pines. dark band of trees like a theater curtain upside-down, lowering away from the sun, the sun taking its place in the sky.
sunflowers, the small row i planted this year, all in their bulging, pregnant state, flowers giving way to seed. like adolescent creatures, bedecked yet in the beauty of youth, looking down at the earth in bewilderment of their blossoming selves.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Knitted hat
dear friend visited last Thursday and walked me through knitting a hat. here it is, my first hat!
Monday, August 11, 2008
Sauerkraut-making season
harvested 5 of our cabbages, totaling 17 lbs. husband cleaned them off, weighed them - a 6 lb-er!
shredded them...
and crushed them in the our harsch crock until their liquid rose above the level of the cabbage. added brine, and it's good to go! will ferment for six weeks in the crock, then will go into the fridge for us to eat.
shredded them...
and crushed them in the our harsch crock until their liquid rose above the level of the cabbage. added brine, and it's good to go! will ferment for six weeks in the crock, then will go into the fridge for us to eat.
Sunday, August 10, 2008
Saturday, August 9, 2008
Harvesting Garlic & Onions
Finally harvested garlic and onions yesterday, between downpours. Stalks were browning on the garlic a couple of weeks ago and it was ready to come out, but supposed to harvest after a few sunny days, which we never got, so out it came yesterday, soggy with a few of the stalks starting to rot. Onions came out right on time, when their stalks had all been lying on the ground about ten days.
Amazed again this year at the baby worm nurseries created by the garlic roots. Such tiny little things, just about 3/4 of an inch long, and almost traslucent some of them, with grown worms wrapped around the roots near them. I suppose that perhaps the garlic roots, being so thin and dense, are ideal for baby worms because they can intertwine amongst them and thus be safer from moles and other predators.
Father-in-law lent us the back of his garage to dry them in, since our porch is much more exposed to the humid weather. We set up a construction fan to blow on all of the plants so they wouldn't rot from all the water in them, and today they are drying and beautiful. 160 garlic bulbs, 50 onions.
Amazed again this year at the baby worm nurseries created by the garlic roots. Such tiny little things, just about 3/4 of an inch long, and almost traslucent some of them, with grown worms wrapped around the roots near them. I suppose that perhaps the garlic roots, being so thin and dense, are ideal for baby worms because they can intertwine amongst them and thus be safer from moles and other predators.
Father-in-law lent us the back of his garage to dry them in, since our porch is much more exposed to the humid weather. We set up a construction fan to blow on all of the plants so they wouldn't rot from all the water in them, and today they are drying and beautiful. 160 garlic bulbs, 50 onions.
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