The Barn Blog

Desert=boring

I've been on a road trip.

I think I would be very boring if I had grown up in this part of UT...

Flowers for the record

Well I failed miserably as a blogger in May. I was too busy taking pictures of everything growing around me. And work was insane…

I was all ambitious starting out this barn blog endeavor. And I was happy with April’s flower update…seeing them all there in one post with little descriptions. Worked for me. 

But apparently this format is not sustainable. Here I am mid-June and I have 36 May flowers to write about. I’m not sure how to face these flowers. From now on I think I will just upload things as I see them. That will probably be the best way to keep track of everything chronologically anyways. So what follows is a ridiculously long post. Written on a plane to Seattle...I couldn't sleep because there was a Jamaican apple picker trying to get a green card sitting next to me. If anyone wants to go to Jamaica, he will throw us a party...

So here is May…quickly. Or as quickly as I can write about flowers in May...possibly the most prolific month. I organized it by weeks. I haven't re-read this for edits. So if anyone actually reads it...my apologies. Pictures will be uploaded slowly but surely. I want to get this up so that I can get off to a fresh start with June!

Week 1.

Forget-me-nots—I love this color.

 

 

 

Redbuds
I can’t decide whether I like redbud trees or not. On one hand they are a gorgeous color and stay in bloom for a long time. On the other, they bloom in a really odd way and caused a really foolish controversy when I was in college. In short, when Cornell announced it was going to cut down a stand of redbud trees to put in a parking lot, a bunch of hippie students went all Greenpeace and camped out. It lasted a long time. What got me was that the trees were planted as ornamentals by a past Cornell president. The trees were neither old nor native. Crazy hippies. There is now one more parking lot on campus by the way. But in negotiations over the trees, I think the “Save the Redbud” group got students free bus passes. So that’s good. http://www.sustainablecampus.cornell.edu/transportation/univaveparking.cfm

 PS. this tree is the one from which I hung the coon.

Week 2.

Apples in bloom
Apple trees were in bloom for a few weeks. Gorgeous from the time the buds started to show through when their petals covered the ground like snow. And their timing was fairly good too. They managed to be in bloom for the one week that it wasn’t pouring rain. I think the bees had a chance to do their thing. So hopefully there will be some fall posts about apples!! This is the view out the old glass window across from my bed. :)

 Planting Dahlias
Dahlias have to come out of the ground each fall. They get stored in the basement all winter, and in the spring Ruth rehydrates them and puts them in the ground. Mid-may is the time to plant. Stand-by…if I remember correctly, they’ll be blooming in the fall.

Grape Vines

The grape vines went from looking quite dead to having leaves all over them this week. Last fall, as I was gorging myself on wild grapes from horseback in MA, it occurred to me that I had never seen

grape flower. So this year I watched carefully for them to flower. But here we are two weeks into June and the vines have developing fruit. I missed the flowers again! Elusive little buggers. Maybe next year.

Tulips
If you don’t know what a tulip is, I’m surprised you made it this far reading this blog. Tulips come in every shape and size and color. They are pretty.

Marsh Marigold
They are bright yellow and live in marshes. Fun to look at I suppose.

Ramps
This was the first year I had heard of Ramps. Quite often I will hear about something for the first time and then it turns up EVERYWHERE. That happened with ramps this spring. It went like this: I blogged about the coon. Ian recommended stew with ramps. The next day in the grocery store I saw the “Edible Finger Lakes” magazine had an article on ramps. Then my coworker posted about a dish she made with ramps she got at the farmers’ market. At this point I had seen a few pictures of ramps without ever having to google. So I searched Ruth’s property, but had no luck. I was going to give up on my quest for a ramp. Then I got an urge to bike 15 miles one night. Low and behold, in the middle of nowhere, on the side of the road at the bottom of a bank was a mother load of ramps. So the next day I parked my car and used the skills my mother had taught me with lilacs to smuggle some ramps. There was a posted sign up the next day. May be a coincidence…but maybe not. Anyways, they taste like shallots. No better, no worse. I’m not sure what the hype is about. But I had my coon stew with ramps. 

Wild strawberries (and non-wild if you’ve got ‘em)
There are a lot of wild strawberries at Ruth’s. I think I mentioned setting the mower deck high so that I wouldn’t hack off their flowery heads. Since I’m writing this in June, I’ll just kill two birds with one stone. Strawberries (wild and non) are ready for the pickin’ in the second week of June. Yum!

 Pear, Plum, and Wild Cherry
I lump these together because they all bloomed at the same time and were (unfortunately!) not very spectacular. It poured all week and it was cold. I don’t know if a single bee left the hive. So the blossoms came and went and were not pollinated. Tragic.

Lilacs
The boldest sign of spring is the lilac. Even non-plant people enjoy a nice lilac bush. They are pretty, smell wonderful, and are easy to pick and keep as a bouquet. I felt blessed to live at Ruth’s this year because she has an awesome collection of lilacs. Pink, white, lavender, and dark purple— 
all around the yard. The smell was everywhere…which was great!

One has since been eliminated. I came home the other day and Ruth had dug it up…by hand…and filled in the hole.  Makes mowing easier, but I was surprised to see it gone when it wasn’t in the worst shape. Ruth said it was getting old and needed to go. A bold statement for an 87 year old.

My memory of lilacs is of my mom coveting others’ bushes. She has ones staked out around town. Each spring she keeps clippers in her car and stealthily stops, throws on the flashers, jumps out, and picks one or two stems for herself. Bouquets in her car are a sure-sign of this thrifty thievery. I think this is the worst thing my mom has ever done or will ever do. She is a saint. I should really buy her a lilac bush one of these years… 

Week 3.

Bleeding hearts
Bleeding hearts are fun flowers. They look like little jewels. And I love the contrast with the blue barn. The closely related, mini-version—dutchman’s breeches are fun too…probably because of their name.

 

 

 

Buttercups
Buttercups are weeds I suppose. They do kind of take over, but they do it in such a pretty way that I find it hard to resent them. Unless it’s in a horse pasture. Buttercups are poisonous for horses. Luckily they avoid them on their own. But ever spot a buttercup grows is a spot that grass—that could feed a horse—does not. So I guess in that case they aren’t welcome.

 The fun thing about buttercups is that they leave a mark wherever you press the flower. I forget what we used to say before smooshing one on our faces. I think we would say, “Do you like butter?” and if the yellow showed up on our faces then that meant you liked butter. Of course you would always turn yellow…but who doesn’t like butter?

Azaleas
I never quite understood azaleas. They are rhododendron wannabes…Ruth’s azalea is a particularly pathetic specimen. It gets crowded out by the strawberry plant. I’m not sure why it is so stunted. But I commend it for trying.

 

 

 

 

 

Dogwood
Dogwood trees are my favorite flowering tree. My mom had a ring that was in the shape of a dogwood flower that I always admired. And when my family took a trip to Washington, DC and visited our relatives’’ graves in Arlington National Cemetery, there was a Dogwood blooming nearby. Neither of these memories are all that significant to my life, but they are pleasant and I remember them every time I see a Dogwood in bloom. They are just gorgeous. And they stay in bloom for a long time…very hardy for something that looks so perfect. Ruth's is kinda rough looking, so I also took pics on campus.

 And for good measure I found some little wild dogwoods (I don't know if they are actually related to the tree...as a matter of fact, I'm not sure that's what they're actually called. I call them wild dogwood.)

 

Wisteria
Wisteria is a gorgeous flowering vine. The flowers are big clumps of purple. Ruth doesn’t have any, but I did see one growing along the road in NY, so I think it can make the blog. Segway to Maine—we have a wisteria vine on the island that hasn’t bloomed in at least 10 years. More I think. Two years ago we re-did the deck which involved ripping the well-established vine off of its trellis and hacking it up a bit. After the project was complete, I trained it up on the deck railing. I went back for Memorial Day weekend and was thrilled to find the vine had bought into my scheme…and it had a buds! Very exciting. Maybe in a few years I will have the wall of wisteria I have envisioned. Unless another Taisey project takes over…construction always takes priority over plants.

Lily of the Valley
These are the sweetest little flowers. The blossoms are dainty and perfect. And if you get your nose anywhere near them (which requires you to either pick a stalk or do some yoga contortion to get your nose to the ground) you are hit with an impressively strong aroma. This is another one I used to pick mini-bouquets of for my mom. 

 

 

Jack-in-the-Pulpit
This is one of the coolest flowers. It’s carnivorous! Seems so exotic for central NY. They are subtle plants, but if you keep your eyes peeled, they show up all over the place. There are 3 in this picture. Can you find them?

Rhubarb
This will get its own post. I love rhubarb.

 

 

Wild blueberry
This is really a Maine thing, but I was in Maine for Memorial Day, so it can be here. Wild blueberries are the cutest little bushes. And their flowers are bizarre little bells. I think there are “low-bush” blueberries in Central New York too, so maybe there will be a fall post revisiting these guys.

Poppies
I didn’t get any pictures of poppies, but I wanted to put them on this record because I really like them and will want them in a garden someday. So, note to myself for when I grow up: Poppies bloom mid-may so plan that perfectly manicured garden bed accordingly. (I can dream, right?)

Week 4.

Chestnut trees
Chestnuts used to be the predominant tree in the New England woods. Now they are somewhat rare
Definitely rare in the wild. Amazing to think that within 100 years so much can change. Ruth is doing her part to bring them back by planting them around the yard. I was traveling when they were in bloom, but I was in Maine where they were also blooming, so I took this shot. Aren’t they pretty? Like vanilla ice cream cones on each branch.

 

 

 

Columbine
Columbine is a very cool flower. They are dainty and delicate. I think it’s because they spend so much effort growing in difficult places, that when it comes time to grow leaves and such…they don’t have much energy left. This is a bogus explanation, but it’s what comes to mind when I see them. Cultivated varieties come in all sorts of stunning colors. But the wild ones are my favorite. They appear perched on cliffs and rock faces where you can’t imagine there is any soil for their roots. But there they are, putting on a show for the world. A very cool plant. Next time you’re hiking in the spring (end of May apparently), look up—you might see one. 

Rhododendron
Step aside Azalea. Rhododendrons are excellent bushes. There is one on the island where I grew up that has reached tree-like proportions. Again, I think I like them because of the memories that come when I see them. My chore growing up was to sweep the fallen flowers off the deck. Despite the fact that I didn’t particularly like the chore or the fact that my grandmother nagged me to do it, I still like the memory. A time when my grandmother was alive, and the most burdensome thing on my agenda was to sweep some flowers onto the ground.

 

Mayflowers
My parents must have locked me out of the house a lot in the springtime. As I am reading this, every flower is evoking some memory of my childhood. These little guys grew in big clumps all over our yard and I used to love picking mini-bouquets for my mom. Do other people have this memory? I’m not sure…the flowers like to grow in lawns and I can imagine most families mow before the end of May. Luckily for my flower-picking, my dad never really got around to mowing our “lawn” until it verged becoming a “field.” 

 May Apple
As you know from April’s flower recap, I’ve been fascinated by the May Apple. The bizarre little spikes came out of the ground on 4/17 and have changed weekly. I would love to see time-lapse photography of their growth as the come up, unfurl like an umbrella, create a rainforest-like habitat for the tiny forest creatures, and then put out beautiful white flowers. What a cool plant! And I hear the “apple” part comes in the fall. Perhaps they will make another blog appearance in the fall.

Honeysuckle
Another obnoxious, invasive weed that I like. Honeysuckles take over the ecotone—where fields meet forest. They do make impassable thickets which is a bit of a pain. And attract bees to the point where you can actually hear the bushes humming. But they make the world smell like honey for a week. And their branches are twig-like so you can easily snap a few off and make a bouquet. Most are yellow, but you can find pink ones too. In the fall, they have red berries. The horse I rode in high school used to straddle honeysuckle bushes and sway back and forth to itch the bug bites on his belly. He would pop the berries in the process and would come out of the thicket covered in red stripes. We called it his war paint. Pretty clever if you ask me.

Iris
I have to see what pictures I took of Irises...they come in a few varieties that range in size and color. Really pretty flowers. And they have a unique minty smell.

Chives
A lot of alliums (the group name for onions) bloom in the spring. The range from huge blossoms to little purple chives. All have a stalk with a round clump of flowers on top. Many are purple. Oh, and they smell like onions.

Chives are great because they are hardy, easy to grow, have a pretty little flower (that makes a pop if you squeeze the bud before it actually blooms—great fun for kids…not so fun for the flowers), and you can use them to cook with or garnish. Very Martha Stewart.

-------------*whew*-------------

And just like any painfully long event, I’ve saved the award ceremony for last…

Winner of the sweetest smell award: Lilacs. Very honorable mention: Lily of the Valley, Honeysuckle, Apple, and Peony

Winner of the coolest plant award: Jack-in-the-Pulpit (the judge may have been bribed with insect-catching) 

Most functional: Rhubarb—even though I just made two pies and a ton of jam. I used these goods to trick friend and acquaintances into thinking I was a good cook and had time to do things like bake pies and make 15 jars of jam. So functional due to its power of persuasion. I’ll post about rhubarb. Honorable mention: ramps.

Putting stuff in the ground

I've put a lot of things in or on the ground this month. The leaves, weeds, and dead animals will become dirt (or "soil" to be PC for all those dirtologists). And the seeds I planted will hopefully grow me some flowers and veggies!

Some have already come up...and some seeds got dug up and eaten by a squirrel before they had a chance to sprout. I was going to let the seedlings go a little longer in their little yogurt cups, but after one feast, the squirrel had it in its pea brain that there were seeds in the cups. Each day there would be new little holes dug around the base of the sprouted seedlings. I tried moving the trays of seedlings all around, but this squirrel is stealthy. He even found them on the tractor seat! So I gave up playing hide and go seek with the squirrel and my trays of seedlings and planted them in the ground. The squirrel is on Nash's hit list. Unfortunately (for me) Nash has never killed a thing in his life.

For future reference...plant these things in May: 

Morning Glory & Chinese Lanterns: They climb, so give them a trellis or something. Ruth uses string weighted at the bottom by a T-post. Soak and scratch the Morning Glory seeds to give them a head start.
 
Dahlias: These were dug up in the fall and stored in the cellar. They were put in the ground at the beginning of May and the first leaves showed up last week.

Gladiolas: I probably should have put these in the ground (6" deep) in April, but I didn't get to it. I got them at the dollar store and I buried them shallow...a rough start to life, but we'll see how they do.

Nasturtium: I put some seeds I collected in previous years in the ground, but was so excited to see these flowers, I bought a plant and put in by my front walkway. I'm not necessarily a fan of blaze orange, but my grandmother always had nasturtiums so they show up in many of my happy memories. See it?

 

 

 

 Strawflower & Statice: I've never grown these before, but there was a barren area next to the barn so I sprinkled a bunch of seeds there. If they come up I'll have nice cut flowers I can dry for winter bouquets. Right now there is a bunch of stuff coming up...I'm not sure what's good and what's bad. So I'm letting everything grow up a bit. We'll see what I've got in that area next month.

Veggies and tomatoes!
I planted in about 1/3 of the fenced in garden area.  Peas, beans, lettuce, cucumbers, sqush, zucchini, green onions, green peppers, eggplant, tomatoes, and basil. Watermelon and pumpkin went to the squirrel.

I started all but the peas, beans, lettuce, and onions in yogurt cups in the past few months and transplanted them outside this month. Note: when transplanting tomatoes, bury the stems a few inches—almost to the first set of leaves.

The remaining 2/3 of the area will get filled up with staggered plantings of peas and beans (to ensure I am sick of them by the end of the summer) and whatever Ruth wants to plant. Probably some swiss chard (which I OD'd on last year), more tomatoes, and whatever else catches our eyes at stores in the next few months. I also planted the tomatoes kind of close to each other because the ones I started from seed look so pathetic that I don't think they'll make it. If they do, I may transplant them again and space them out more. 


I also planted potatoes for the first time. Another case of seat-of-my-pants gardening. I've heard people talk about planting potatoes over the years, but never really looked into it. Even when I went to plant them. Ruth went out of town for a few weeks and as she was leaving she said, "I bought some potatoes to plant, they are in the fridge." I always envisioned putting pre-sprouted potatoes in the ground. But I suppose they are probably even more inclined to sprout if they are already in the ground.

So I chopped the potatoes up so that each piece had at least 2 eyes and buried them about 4" deep. When Ruth got home she asked if I had left the chopped pieces out to dry first, which I hadn't. I had never heard of this part. We'll see what comes up. Just in case I may leave some potatoes out to sprout...

Mowing meditation

I love to mow. There's enough thought involved to keep you in the present—watching for baby trees and rogue bulbs; planning the perfect pattern so that every blade is cut, but not passed over twice; and testing the limits of how steep a slant you can mow without the stupid safety shutoff kicking in to tell you that you've gone too far. But not too much—so you can zone out a bit to the white noise of eardrum-damaging RPMs, vibration of many parts spinning, and the aromatherapy of fresh cut grass and exhaust. It's really nice.

Mowing is one chore that is a must in my life. My last landlord wouldn't let me mow the lawn. Truth be told, it's one of the reasons I left. I am pretty flexible, but this is one thing on which I can't compromise. In fact, I may write it into my marriage vows. 

It's been a rainy spring so the ground has been too squishy to mow. I've been watching the grass grow for the past 3 weeks. It was getting longer each day—rushing to turn into a field before it got found out. I was onto its scheme, but my hands were tied. Ideally I would have cut the grass 3 weeks ago (make note for future years). Last weekend I decided the lawn was sufficiently dry and I vaulted onto the little tractor—so excited for the first run of the season. I was just reaching a meditative state when I heard a loud snap and off flew a belt. What a buzz kill. So I disengaged the mower and put it back in the garage. I didn't cry...but I came close.

This blog covers about 3 hours of each of my days. The other 21 hours I am working or sleeping. Mostly working. This week was particularly busy and other things like coon skinnin' were already eating up my barn time. So I got a new belt and had a friend/savior put it on for me. Maybe it'll snap again and this blog can include a mechanic's lesson, but not this week.

So on Wednesday I got a massage at the local massage school (90 minutes for $35!) and then cut grass for 3 hours. Pretty much a perfect evening.

Some considerations for the first cut of the season: keep the mowerdeck high and watch out for evergreen trees. Not only is the grass really thick (so a low setting would probably clog the mower and pull up the grass), but there are wild strawberries in bloom. You want to cut the grass that is competing for the sun's rays, but not chop off the flowers which will (if this bee-friendly weather keeps up) turn into little tart berries. And the trees will turn you yellow. The air is full of pine sperm (pollen) right now—covering EVERYTHING (including my bed in the barn). There isn't much you can do, but if you can avoid brushing branches, that is good.

I discovered that Ruth's mower has two speeds: slow-as-death and warp-speed. I have no doubt Ruth mows on warp. I'm sure watching her dart around the yard, dodging trees, will cause me to grow many gray hairs this summer. In fact, most of the trees on this property are slanted. Perhaps this is due to Toro ramming over the years...

Anyways, I found that the majority of the lawn could be covered at warp speed and the grass would still get cut. But for the thick areas I had to slow to grandma speed. I make note of this to commend tractor manufacturers for the improvements that have been made in gear shifting. I'm used to large John Deers and Kubotas...big tractors that ride like a Hummer. Luxury.

Ruth's little Toro is basic. To go between gears you use a lever. I found this lever works when it wants to. You have to jimmy it a bit to get in or out of a gear. And the transition always causes whiplash. I should have someone videotape it. There's no way to avoid the jolt and it's pretty funny to watch I'd imagine.

It takes a while to figure out the right pattern and I haven't got a good one down for this lawn yet. Too many trees, gardens, rhubarb clumps, and baby trees. But I've got about 5 hours of drive time under my belt and the grass is cut. I had to do some raking to get rid of the hay I made, but clippings are an important part of Ruth's dirt factory, so that effort won't be in vain. Hopefully I can keep up on the mowing from this point forward and not have to touch a rake till the fall.

Fungus Amongus

I have an apology to make.
After posting this afternoon I practiced what I preached and pulled a bunch of garlic mustard.

While on this mission I made two wonderful finds:

1. The asparagus is up. (It was not 2 days ago!)

(When you pick asparagus, get the part under the soil too.)

 2. I found my first morel!!! The asparagus I knew to watch out for, so the garlic mustard doesn't get any brownie points for that. But for the morel I am truly grateful. I have never foraged for fungus because, like most Americans, I was raised to have a healthy respect for mushrooms. And by healthy respect I mean fear. I am still wary, but I read The Omnivore's Dilemma last year and it inspired me to try my hand at wild mushrooms. Just my luck, it turns out that Ruth's late husband was a connoisseur. Ruth does not claim to be an expert. She says there is only room for one fungus expert in a family. Apparently they went foraging with a husband and wife who both thought they knew what they were doing and the two fought the whole time—second guessing each other. From that day forward Ruth tried not to learn too too much. But she does know the obvious edibles on this property and she confirmed that this is a morel. 

Peter has passed on, but there is still a fungus expert in town. I have a call in to her to come over and ID the other ones I found. But I won't eat them until I know...

If it hadn't been for the garlic mustard I probably would have done something foolish like go for a run. So in order to apologize to the garlic mustard, I am letting them share a plate with the morel and asparagus. I threw some dandelion in for good measure. Not a filling meal, but that's why we have take out chinese.

Pushy plants

Despite the cold and rain, an unwanted guest showed up this week and brought friends.
Garlic mustard is an invasive plant that is either the best example of the reproductive abilities of plants or magic. I think it might be magic. Black magic.
This plant is simple and unassuming, but you rarely see one. Approximately 10,000,000 show up at once and completely take over the understory of the forest...
As the name indicates, they are edible. I will cook a bit up when I get a chance, but right now I have to dedicate my time to pulling each up and putting it in a large plastic bag. If you throw the little bastards in the compost, they go to seed and you're right back where you started. So they sit in a bag here until they rot or I have time to burn them. Luckily they are really easy to pull up so it is a satisfying endeavor.

A good massacre usually lasts the summer, but next spring they'll be back...hence the magic.
For more info: http://na.fs.fed.us/spfo/pubs/pest_al/garlic/garlic.htm

April Recap

It's cold here. I'm going to have to bring my veggie seedlings in tonight due to threat of FLURRIES. Lame. NPR is talking right now about the possibility of central NY missing its cold crop season (spinach, broccoli, etc). But we won't dwell on that!

There is no sun, but the world is bright. Perhaps it's because we're so used to seeing white, gray, and brown. Everything looks so colorful! Like eating an apple after a fast and being overwhelmed by the flavor (something I've never done...but I've heard).

Luckily, the plants are on my side and are growing just to spite their mother. I want to honor the stubborn little guys (and document what came up this month). In order of who showed up to the 2011 party first wearing their finest....

1. Bloodroot. A funny little plant that comes up looking like a zombie finger and then hits you one day with the most joyful little white flower. Ruth talks of these fondly. They do have personality. Apparently their roots are bright red. When it's not so darn cold I'll dig one up and see for myself. 

2. Snowdrops. These guys are very dainty considering how tough they have to be. I'm afraid I pulled quite a few up while raking, but they're everywhere so I'm not too concerned. Kinda cute.

3. Alconite. They're yellow...that's all I have to say. 

4. Pussywillow Tree. This is a bad picture and since there is only one tree on this property way back in a swamp, I suppose it might not be worth mentioning.  But I want to give these guys a spot on the blog because of the joy they have brought me in years gone by. We had a huge pussywillow tree at the bottom of our hill in Maine. It fell over and kept growing, which worked out well for me since I was short. I remember checking it weekly, waiting in anticipation for the grey rabbits' feet buds to come out. Then I butcher the poor tree with clippers—clipping a bunch to make a twig bouquet for Easter. 

5. Fritillaria. I uncovered this thing while raking. The greens looked just like an asian lilly, but I knew it was too early for that. So I kept my eye on it...it grew taller and started to smell like a skunk. Then these bizarre flowers came out. The final product turned out to be none other than a Skunk Lilly. Creative naming. New to me. I kind of like it...reminds me of a former chicken.

6. Crocus. Points for them for showing up in so many colors. But at the end of the day it's just a crocus...

7. Daffodils. See Crocus, but replace with Daffodil. Although I like these better because they remind me of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory when there was a candy daffodil they used as a teacup and saucer.

8. Hyacinth. We never had these growing up, so they always seem out of place to me. I always want to pick them and stick them in a bouquet...that's how I'm used to seeing them.

9. Primrose. These little guys are BRIGHT. They remind me of African Violets, another plant I've only had inside. I need to replace this with a picture of the magenta ones.

10. Vinca. I do love little vinca plants. They cover what would otherwise be barren ground and intersperse little periwinkle colored flowers. I think they might be officially invasive in central NY, but they are pretty!

I also have a fondness for them because my Dad has a minor obsession. I think his picture of heaven has no grass that needs mowing. In its place are endless fields of practical, ground-covering vinca. He claims that they are my mom's favorite plant. Growing up, he was always bringing home large chunks of earth from other people's gardens or salvage from a stump job. He'd plop the muddy bunches on the back step like a cat bringing us a dead mouse...a nice thought, but a mess. 

My mom doesn't give a darn about vinca, but I was always so touched by the gesture. I'd plant them where they might be happy. But alas they never really took. Too much clay in our yard. I'm in NY now, but when I go back to Maine there is usually a sorry looking pile of vinca clumps waiting out their fate. Someday my dad will come out of the closet and admit he likes purple flowers.

11. Forsythia. I go back and forth on liking forsythia. It's definitely a spring beacon, but is it a beauty? Perhaps...if you really like yellow. Yellow was my favorite color when I was little and I think I OD'd. Forsythia are everywhere and their flowering flurry varies depending on how well they're pruned. I think Ruth and I have some hacking to do here once the flowers go by. A future post perhaps. I have some research to do.

12. Magnolia Tree. The magnolia was the first flowering tree on the property. It looks so tropical, although I think I say that of anything with a big flower. I suppose it's worth it for the joy of seeing so many flowers in the spring, but I've always debated flowering trees that don't produce edible fruit. They are joyful for about a week. Then the petals just give up and flop to the ground. On a windy or rainy year they may not even put up a fight. This leaves you with a tragic sight and a big mess to clean up. I don't think I'll plant magnolias when I grow up.

13. Trillium. One of my spring favorites! Possibly because it comes up in my favorite areas—in the woods or in an area that will be shaded once the leaves fill in. I always thought they were fragile, but Ruth says that she transplanted these to this garden and they have done well for years. Also, they came up despite being ground zero for Nash's morning routine. Perhaps they like Fromm fertilizer...They have 3 petals and come in a few colors, not too many though...We have white and red.

14. Apricot Tree. I posted about this already because I was so excited. I have only lived with apple and pear trees, so the variety will be interesting this year! Plus Ruth makes preserves like a mad-woman. I'm looking forward to more jammin' with my roomie.

15. Ferns. I've also posted about these (Fiddleheads). We don't have any of the edible ones on the property, but these are pretty nonetheless. They get a spot despite not flowering because they don't flower and if I don't give them a shout out now I'm afraid they'll get lost in the crowd.

 

16. Dandelions. I have nothing against dandelions. In fact, I will use the greens at some point this summer. Foraging just seems like an appropriate topic that I should cover for this blog. And I'm cheap, so if I can eat stuff I find I'm usually all for it. I am considering road kill...

Lots of plants didn't flower in April, but their growth was impressive and pictureworthy.

The April Most Improved Players

Peony

Day Lilly

 

May Apple. Okay, a little noteworthy. I had no idea what these things were and watched them come up with great anticipation. Low and behold they turned into these fun umbrella plants that I've admired from a distance before. At the same time, someone gave me the book Stalking the Wild Asparagus. It has a chapter on this beauty. Apparently I will get to eat something from these things in the fall. How exciting!

 

Bleeding Hearts

 ...these bloomed before I could snap a picture of how fast they grew. But they bloomed after April 30th...

Fiddleheads!

The natural world is coming back to life with great urgency! With the warm weather last week, I had a feeling the ferns would come up fast. Sure enough, I got the text from Missy that the fiddleheads in her yard were ripe for the pickin'. Get out there if you're in the Northeast!

Luckily for me (and as it turns out some folks from CA and FL), I was planning to see Missy last Thursday, the day of her text. So at 10:30pm, by the light of my Android, we picked a gallon of fiddleheads.

 

Fiddleheads are baby ferns...0.5-1" discs of leafy goodness. Ferns that have fuzzy babies are not edible, ferns that have papery ones are. Don't eat fuzzy babies...easy enough to remember.

They're kind of like asparagus in taste, texture, and how you prepare them. Although I learned a fun fact with this batch—boil, strain, boil, strain, boil, serve...You see, the boiled fiddleheads leech out red stuff (gettin technical here). If you drain this red water and re-boil, it removes the bitterness that's sometimes present with fiddleheads. Thanks to Laura (via a random lady in a Maine grocery store line) for this tip!!

So I took my gallon of fiddleheads for a trip. 

We went to FL and participated in a feast!
7 people—one epic afternoon. Fresh FL corn. Steaks wrapped in bacon. Chicken. Fresh handpicked fiddleheads. Pork ribs. Shrimp. Bacon garlic bread. Fresh FL fruit. Chips & taco dip. Fresh FL tomatoes, mozzarella,  and handpicked basil. Fancy flown in olive oil and vinegar (although I suppose all vinegar and olive oil we get spends some time in a plane). Jello shots. Corona. Yuengling. Wine. And a log (or loaf if you prefer) of Velveeta cheese. 

To quote Cliff, "Having fiddleheads in FL in April is stupid."

And by stupid he means awesome.

Starting from seed

The Easter Bunny didn't bring me any chocolate, but perhaps he had some part in this far superior surprise...

These cucumbers poked their heads up late yesterday and today and I can see an eggplant pushing through too. It's been a little over a week since I got all excited and planted seeds. 

Because we have such a short growing season in the Northeast you have to start stuff indoors before the last frost. Last week we've had 2 frosts and it even tried to snow. The nerve!

The other two completely valid options are to wait till it's finally warm and just buy the seedlings from Wally World or attend the Wine & Herb Festival each year.

This year I went to town... Eggplant, Summer squash, Zucchini, Watermelon, Winter squash, Pumpkin, Basil, Rosemary, and Cucumber. They're all buried in Bootsie's black gold (really old horse manure) and starting to emerge. I think a lot of what you see as green in this picture are weeds. That's the fun of using soil from a manure pile...you're never quite sure what you're watering for the first month or so.

Today was warm and sprinkling so I put them outside for the day. I think some little critter dug up a few seeds as a treat. Can't really blame it. We'll see how this all works out.

While I'm at it I guess I'll post about other stuff I've got growing. 

1. Last month I spoke at a conference that over-ordered yogurt. So I brought home enough Activia for a month. At the same time some charity that Ruth donates to sent a packet of tomato seeds. Ruth also has a large supply of black gold (the result of the compost system) so we planted the tomato seeds. It's been my experience that tomatoes you start from seed really don't do as well as the ones you buy as seedlings, but maybe this year will be different. So far they look kind of pathetic, but maybe they'll pull through...

2. At some point this winter I was eating some sort of citrus at my desk. I'm guessing orange. Apparently I stuck some seeds in one of the plant pots and the darn things are growing! Good thing, because the Jade plants that I smuggled back from a trip to CA aren't doing so hot...they got a little thirsty during a long bout of business travel. So now I have a nice little mix of randomness on my desk.

3. I don't want to give the impression that I am some sort of extraordinary gardener. I've also had some fantastic failures this spring...

I buy raw cashews to munch on throughout the day. I heard from some doctor on the TV in a white coat with an accent (and therefore believable and trustworthy) that you can increase the nutritional value of raw nuts by soaking them in water. I questioned this. 1. It's all the same stuff in the nut...water and sprouting or not. It's not like you're waiting for it to grow bark. 2. I'm pretty sure all food we buy at stores has been pretty sterilized. and 3. His accent wasn't that great. Swedish I think. So some of my cashews went in water last week. The result was not a nutritious treat. It was a very smelly, gooey, fungal mess. Something not even I would eat. So Mr. Dr...why did you lie to me?

The other failure is my chia pet (a great X-mas present from my friend Steve).
Yes, that thing that 6 year olds are supposed to get to grow.
My Chia failed on a number of counts.
First, a mouse got into my office and ate about 2/3 of the seeds of George's head one weekend. That mouse had balls. I have a lot of unset mousetraps and glue boards in my office. We set some...mickey is now dead.
Second, the water would drain a little bit overnight. I even built a little ziplock bag terrarium. But despite my efforts, George ended up with male pattern baldness. I think with the usual amount of seeds enough of a root web develops that this isn't a problem. Maybe I'll try again...
 Pathetic.

That's it for me, but I wanted to show you all what my friend Jen has got going in CA.
Jen has a 2nd floor apartment so her options are limited. Despite this, she is making a go for it with plants this year! Among other things, she is trying the hanging tomato. If it works she is going to have lots of veggies and probably become friends with the person on the balcony below.

 I don't know why this is sideways...

Jen will have to have a guest appearance here to update us on her veggie experience. And Jen is really good about scavenging fruit from public trees around her city and making jams and jellies from it. Blogworthy for sure.

On top of the crafty talent she is hilarious. Accompanying these pictures she wrote, "When I plant things I'm like the octomom's doctor. 'Let's plant a lot of seeds in a small area just in case!' I always think I can trim after I see what grows, but if everything grows I want to keep it!"

So true Jen! I recommend setting loose a rodent on your seedlings. I've found they're pretty heartless about culling a crop.

Survival of the fittest gardening

This week I've been farm sitting at my dear friend Bootsie's. That's not a code name, it's a nickname from before there were blogs. Comes from her ability to rock a variety of styles of boots I believe—muck, heeled, and the Sundance surprise.

Anyways, Coddington Farm might be my favorite spot on earth. The island I grew up on in Maine is the only contender. From the manure pile to the leech-filled pond, I feel at-one with this place. I feel like I know this property like the back of my hand, and that's special. I lived here for a year and a half a few years ago being "the man around the house." Other living situations have paled in comparison ever since. Hopefully this summer's barn experience will match up.

So I've been blissfully feeding horses, discouraging broody hens, and drinking Bootsie's wine all week. And gorging myself on homemade grape jelly, pear butter, and farm fresh eggs of course. I'm going to FL next weekend...it's not going to be pretty.

The main goal of this blog is to keep notes about what I do and when, for future reference if I ever stop mooching off other people and get my own place. It'll probably be in a desert where none of these notes will apply!

But in case I do remain in the Northeast, note to self: book a flight to somewhere warm in early April. That whole "April showers bring May flowers" thing was made up by some optimist who had a paved driveway. Bad things happen in April.

For starters, shedding.

Unfortunately, some bitch in my dog's lineage had sex with a Husky. This resulted in Nash (my mutt) who apparently sheds like crazy in April. Last year he was a puppy so it was hard to tell what would come of him. This year there's no question: he sheds. Luckily I discovered there's a magical horse grooming tool that works great! The Slick 'n Easy Horse Shedding Block. It's second only to the Furminator, but only costs $4. I'm cheap, and the other nice thing is that by the end of shedding season it's pretty worn down so I throw it away and don't have to keep track of an expensive grooming tool on the off months.

The other thing that April showers bring is mud. Lots of mud. Mix it with winter snow melting and months of built-up manure...

 Need I say more?

I had had about enough of this mud and hair business last week. It was a nice day and I wanted to celebrate. So I planted some seeds. Too early? Perhaps. But it felt good to know they MIGHT survive.

You see, I am a business person at heart, so I'm always weighing the cost-benefit of everything. I garden because I love digging in the dirt, making landscapes look fertile, and eating. If I can put the three together through a vegetable garden, great! But I only dig in the dirt when it will be a stress reliever and fun. None of this "weeding because it has to be done" nonesense. Veggies aren't super expensive and I don't grow enough to last me through the year anyways. So if I don't feel like weeding and the plants don't make it... oh well. 

 I take this tack a lot...I put in a good effort, but maybe not every detail "they" say you should, and see what happens. Most of the time everything turns out just fine for less time and money than "they" said it'd take. Coincidently, I don't bake...

I approach veggie gardening like insect reproduction. (Yes, the vegetables are my offspring in this analogy.) I put out a lot of seeds in a lot of places where I know they should survive and then check out. If I have time I'll weed and water and dote over the plants, but I usually don't. You'd be surprised how well this works for me. (Although now that I've blogged about it everything will probably die...)

It certainly helps that I usually go about the world like a zuchinni-seed-weilding Johnny Appleseed, planting gardens at at least 3 of my friends' houses each year. Bootsie-you've been hit on the 2011 tour.

Last week I planted some fun stuff around the basketball hoop: chinese lanterns, assorted gourds, peas, beans, and luffas. That's right—the sponge. So cool if it all works out! Especially since Bootsie just put in an amazing jacuzzi and shower. I'm pretty confident in the climbers...they're meant to be planted in early spring and need as long a growing season as possible up here in the North. I like to plant peas and beans every few weeks so that the harvest is staggered and long lasting. So if this first batch doesn't make it, no worries. Actually, no worries if none of them make it...we're blessed with farmers markets and grocery stores. 

I planted lots of other stuff in containers too, but I think I want to go to bed now. So my indoor gardens can be tomorrow's post. Until then, here's to another year of survival of the fittest gardening at Coddington Farm!