In Molly's Meadow

(Borrowed from Lori of In Heywood's Meadow and Camp Creek Blog)

Well, it's not really a meadow, and I'm certainly no Thoreau; it's just my backyard, and there is a lot going on.

A few bags of cover crop seeds and 20 fruit trees have transformed our backyard from a dirt bowl to a destination. I went out back to hang laundry on the line yesterday, and was immediately distracted from my task by this bumble bee.

I followed him all around the yard with my camera. I wish he would have stayed longer. Maybe he'll tell his friends about our place. It seems we have about 100 honey bees for each bumble bee.



I love the honey bees just as much, of course, but it's all too easy to take what's common for granted. The blossoms don't seem to mind who does the job, just as long as someone carries the pollen.





The blueberries, raspberries and apples are just about ready to open up for bee business.



The stink bugs are getting down to business. I've seen plenty of them connected by their south ends only, but this is the first pair I've seen in a rapturous embrace. Or should I say wrestling for the sake of the younger crowd out there?



The hops are certainly glad to be out of pots and in the ground. I'm praying they survive and flourish - I can already imagine a hop header come late summer.



Just look how the baby chicks are growing. They love to hide in our jungle of Daikon radish and mustard. Little do they know that, sniff, sniff, the radish and mustard are just about ending their sojourn in our meadow, and will be replaced with melons and squash in the next few months. Good thing the purple vetch, sweet peas and clover are gearing up to host the bugs.



I'll definitely invite the radish and mustard back next fall. They have been most instrumental in the transformation of our backyard. Armed with my sunhat, camera and book, I'm heading back out to my meadow today to ponder the miracle of Spring.

Chicken Butts and Busy Bugs

Lest you think I have a chicken foot fetish, I thought I'd share another view of chickens I enjoy.



I like chicken butts and I cannot lie. They're just so fluffy and out there.

You know what else I like?



Catching bugs in the act of making new bugs. Bring it on, ladybugs, though I know one of you isn't really a lady at all. Did you know ladybugs are toxic to some animals? Yes, indeed. My neighbors informed me of this fact last year after a field trip to our local eco-center, and this year we've confirmed it through observation. The chickens give the ladybugs a wide berth. The current ladybug population in our backyard is a very good sign - I expect we'll be swarming with them in a few months. Aphids, beware.

As I was planting peas this morning, using seeds I saved from my garden last year, Aidan asked me, "Mom, are we farmers?"



I'd hardly write it down as my occupation on our tax return, but I'd certainly count it as a hobby. We get to play farm, on a very small scale, for fun. If our seeds don't grow, we won't go hungry. If our chickens don't lay, we won't go belly up. Whether we fail or succeed, we enjoy ourselves, and boy, oh boy do we learn. Our garden is our classroom as well as our sanctuary. We derive immense joy from watching our chickens scratch. We hip-hip-hooray when our perennials come back, when our trees bud and blossom, and when our eight chickens give us eight eggs in one day. Nothing tastes quite so delicious as a snack from the garden. Yesterday I made egg salad with chimichurri sauce, using freshly picked cilantro, thyme and oregano from my front yard. Today I will harvest a handful of snow peas from a volunteer plant to snack on. Tomorrow I will plant a few hundred seeds that arrived in the mail today, including marshmallow, black cumin, bread seed poppy, caraway, dill, licorice, fennel and even henna. I lie awake at night planning where I'll plant what, excited to get up in the morning, take my coffee outside and get my hands dirty. It's just about the best life I could imagine for myself and my family.

The Final Count

With the lowest guess at 35 and the highest at 372, our final egg count for the month of August was nearly in the middle.



And the winner is Jessica of Turkey Cookies with the exact guess of 152 eggs! I really can't believe she was right on and I can't wait to send her a little box of goodies. Thanks to all of you who played our guessing game.

Our chickens aren't the only winged creatures keeping us entertained these days. Our neighbor called one night and asked us if we wanted some caterpillars. They were ravaging her passion fruit vine. Of course we said yes. We set up a little habitat in a plastic container on our dining room table and watched them munch away until they became cocoons.



Then earlier this week, while we weren't watching, a butterfly emerged. Walking by the table, I happened to catch a glimpse of wings and called the kids over. We watched as the butterfly slowly got his bearings, beating his wings, climbing up sticks and unfurling his proboscis (this was most interesting to me).



After a little while, we carefully carried the butterfly out on the stick to which he was clinging. I had my camera ready and was hoping to take a picture of the kids looking at the butterfly, but he flew off in the blink of an eye. I tracked him down in the garden and he obliged me with a few shots.

In the tomato plants, I found a few more bugs munching away.



Tomato Hornworms. They are creepy critters! Big and green, with a beautiful black and white chevron pattern running down their back, and a pointy horn on their tail. I put them in their own habitat on the dining room table, and watched as they devoured handfuls of tomato leaves which I brought to them every few hours.

After a few days, they dropped to the ground and began to borrow in the massive amount of droppings they had dispensed. I put some dirt in the bottom of their home and they burrowed down deep. Within two weeks, if all goes well, they'll emerge as Hawk Moths.

Any cool bugs hanging out on your dining room tables these days?

An Ode to an Onion

I planted it.
I watered it.
I watched it.
I picked it.



I ate it (with some quinoa and bok choy).

Here's a question that's been trolling around my brain for some time: Is it possible to enjoy something you're not very good at doing?

Take gardening. I love it. I love planning where I'm going to plant what, getting my hands dirty, watering early in the morning, patiently waiting for signs of growth, being surprised by what I find in the garden - yet I'm by no means a proficient gardener. If my family had to rely on my ability to grow food, we'd surely perish.

Of course, visiting someone else's garden is no help at all. The grass is always greener, the tomatoes redder, the zucchini longer, and the herbs taller. Still I love my little hopeless garden, in all it's stunted and straggling glory.

So I continue to water and pick and plan and watch. I may be no good at it, but at least I can enjoy it, and every once in a while eat something from it - even if it's just a small onion.

One Life To Live

There are days when I think to myself, "This is not the life I want to live."

Days when I wake up my son to get ready for school before the sun has come up.
Days when I have to pay bills or get my taxes done.
Days when I put the kids to bed a mere ten minutes after daddy gets home from work.

But then there are other days. Blessed days. Few and far between days when I think, "This is exactly the life I want to live."

Days when we go on a family bike ride to pick up a pizza for dinner.
Days when my girlfriend picks me up and we go to a play.
Days when we spend every waking minute in our yard, planning, scheming, dreaming of the future of our small plot of land.



This past weekend yielded two such days. We set up a makeshift chicken run over an empty garden bed and let the girls play in the dirt all day.



Aidan spent hours in the dirt with them.

I laid on the front porch and soaked up the sun while reading about the real history of Johnny Appleseed. Michael Pollan is genius. So is a front porch made of brick.

I could hear George and Avery talking in the backyard while they spread mulch around our newly planted orchard (2 apples, 2 almonds, 1 pear, 1 asian pear, 1 nectarine, 1 peach).



I marveled over the new leaves emerging from our three pomegranate trees and thought about the real forbidden fruit.



I drank a lot of tea.



I took a lot of pictures.



And at the end of the day, I crashed. Yes, this is exactly the kind of life I want to live.

An Effortless Guide to Growing Pumpkins

1. This coming Fall, take a field trip to the pumpkin patch and pick out an orange beauty. Or, grab a pumpkin out of the big cardboard box in front of the grocery store when you run in for milk.

2. Place the pumpkin on your porch, or maybe in the center of your dining table, and bask in it's warm glow on those cold, short autumn days.

3. Save your precious pumpkin from would be squash surgeons who seek to personify your pumpkin with a devilish grin, set it aglow with flame for one short night in late October, and send it to an early grave.

4. When the days become shorter and colder, and orange is no longer the color of the season, and you are ready to surround yourself with green pine boughs and red holly berries, find a spot for your orange friend in your backyard and bid him farewell.

5. After you have completely detached yourself from the pumpkin, let your son have at him with hammers, baseball bats, and any other would be weapons in the hands of a small boy.

6. Wait six months, and you will notice several small green leaves sprouting in the same place where the massacre occurred. Watch closely as these leaves grow and send forth new leaves, followed by huge yellow flowers, and pale green curly cues.

7. Tenderly water this plant by hand, all the while apologizing for the fate of his forefather. If you are forgiven, the plant will bless you with several fruits, save you the chore of buying a pumpkin come fall, and provide you with your own personal pumpkin patch, which will amuse your children and their friends to no end.

8. If steps 1-7 do not work, pray that a bird drops a fertile pumpkin seed bomb somewhere in your yard.

Life is giving me...

Lemons,
apples,
cucumbers,
and sugar snap peas.

My dad once asked me if I had all the time in the world to study just one subject, what would it be? I answered, botany. I love all things green and growing. I would love to know the healing properties of all plants and trees, the flavoring properties of all herbs, the Latin name for all things sprouting from the earth. One of my favorite books is the Sunset Western Garden Book, and I love to check out herbal reference books from the library.

After several years of casual research and careful observation, I now know much more about trees and plants than I did when my dad asked me that very important question. I can identify trees, growing conditions for certain fruits and vegetables, organic soil amendments and natural pesticides. Friends and neighbors actually ask me, ME, for gardening advice. I have so much more to learn, and I am enjoying the process.

It is a goal of our family to grow as much of our food as we can. It will take years to reach this goal, but we have made a good start this year. The kids love to see seeds sprout, pick their own food, observe bugs, smell and taste herbs. We have dirt under our nails, a slight green tinge on our thumbs, and a craving for food from our garden. Thank you Dad for helping me discover such a satisfying and rewarding course of study.

Blueberry Harvest

Just a few short weeks ago, our blueberries weren't even showing signs of blue. They ripened very fast in the hot weather, and we had our first harvest last night. The kids had so much fun! Aidan wanted to make a blueberry pie with his basket of berries, and Avery wanted a blueberry cake. They settled on individual blueberry crisps which they made (mostly) themselves. This is a very easy recipe for kids, and cooks up fast in the toaster oven or Easy-Bake oven.

Blueberry Crisp

Mix until crumbly in small bowl:
1 Tablespoon butter
2Tablespoons oats
1Tablespoon brown sugar
1 teaspoon flour
Dash of cinnamon

Put a handful of blueberries (or chopped peach, apple, any variety of berries) in the bottom of a small baking dish. Cover with crumbly mix. Bake at 350 until top begins to brown and fruit bubbles, about 10 minutes. Cool and enjoy alone or with ice cream, whipped cream, or icing (which my daughter makes from powdered sugar with a dash of milk).

The kids did not share, but they really enjoyed making their own treats with the fruit of their labor.