Simply stepping outside or listening through an open window, I can hear the melodies of springtime songbirds. They are enjoying this week's good weather, which is a welcome change from recent snows!  It's just about perfect outside...blue skies, puffy clouds, and warm breezes. 

The girls are happy to leave the confines of the hen house behind as they stretch their legs and enjoy this breath of spring. They continue to gift us with delicious eggs each day.

 

Our bees have been out buzzing around bringing in pollen...yay! It's a thrill to know they've made it through their first winter...now to keep them healthy through these critical weeks in early spring. 
  

And  whether it's Cocoa the rabbit...
 
 

or Mr. Myrtle the cat…

  

we are all enjoying the early days of spring.

This time of year we try to give our house and yard a close inspection. And while I've been spring cleaning lately, anyone who stops by might think that's debatable. In my opinion, it always looks worse, before it looks better. 

Cleaning out clutter is never enjoyable (to me, at least). In the bright sunlight, surfaces seem hopelessly dusty, while dust bunnies are clearly in view from their winter hiding spots. Paperwork seems to have a way of multiplying, and has sadly ended up stacked in perilous disarray.

Outside however; the first tender shoots of daffodils are pushing their way through the warming earth. There are buds on the lilac bush and red maple tree. With a little work, sticks and branches from winter winds will be collected, flowerbeds tidied, and the garden tilled.

Yes, spring fever has a way of winning the battle each year with spring cleaning. The warming days certainly tug at us to come outdoors...the days are fine, and Sweet Girl has already brightened my heart by giving me my first bouquet of spring flowers. 

It's truly a time to make plans and enjoy the spirit of rebirth...a time of promise and simple pleasures.

This week off (since my weeks and weekends are reversed from the rest of the world) has gone by entirely too fast.  Working Tuesday night really took away a lot of homestead work time.  I am however beginning to figure out this whole sleep schedule with working night shift which has been a big improvement.  I have been falling asleep to ocean waves on a sound machine app I downloaded and it has been great.  It’s making me crave a trip to the beach though!

For the last two days, I have been doing pretty much nothing but cleaning the house.  Besides the normal house work, I got started on some Spring cleaning.  This meant organizing closets, cabinets, cleaning out my computer, and cleaning other parts of the house that aren’t normally in my cleaning repertoire.  I am absolutely exhausted!  Tomorrow starts my work weekend, so I am grateful to have tonight to rest.

With all of the cleaning I have been stuck inside for the most part, which has been alright since the low last night was in the 20′s.  Looks like that groundhog was mighty wrong this year!  Despite the below freezing weather outside, my seedlings have been growing at a ridiculous rate.  My beans, despite the tiny pots they were transplanted to, have already flowered and are growing tiny beans.

   

I am surprised they are producing with as little space as they are confined to.  With the extra few weeks of cold, all of my seedlings are outgrowing the greenhouse and the transplant pots.  As any ER nurse knows, you always have a back up plan (or two, or three, or four).  From failed equipment, to lack of supplies, to a patient crashing and there being no help available, it is vital to think creatively.

I decided that since there is no warm weather in sight, it was time to go to Plan B.  This involved taking the seedlings from the greenhouse, that were out of space, and transplanting them to the large containers that were reserved for other plants.  This way they would only be transplanted once instead of multiple times until the weather was warm.  Luckily, most vegetables can grow in containers so they should be happy living out their days in confinement.  I haven’t decided what the extra space in the raised beds will be used for yet.

As of today, only a few plants remain in the greenhouse (strawberries, watermelon, eggplant) and the rest have been moved to containers.  I didn’t move the beans since they are in a fragile time of producing.  I am just going to plant extra bean seeds in the raised bed gardens later.  The plants in containers now are jalapenos, mixed peppers and tomatoes.

   

I have garlic and viking potatoes growing in containers as well.  The lettuce and cherry tomatoes are fairing decently in the hanging planters.  It’s a bit of a pain to bring in all these plants at night!  

The chickens and pigs survived the bitter cold and were enjoying the sun this afternoon.  Lady-Bug’s belly is growing every day, but no signs of labor yet.

  

The pig pen crew consists of the pigs, Solstice and Princess (who learned how to escape from the chunnel-hence the reason she is now in the pig pen during the day).  They seem to be co-existing peacefully so far.

   

Solstice has begun to adjust a bit better to her new home.  She really enjoys spending the day with the pigs.

  

She was feeling particularly frisky today.

   

Solstice still comes in at night and Princess roosts with the rest of the flock.  As soon as the weather warms, Solstice, Princess and the chicks will permanently reside in the pig pen.  The old gals are just not tolerant of anyone new so a separate flock will be started with the others.

We are patiently (as patiently as I can anyway) awaiting warmer weather!

Until next time…

 

I arrived at work at 7:30 AM, following a grueling 150 foot commute.  The traffic was terrible.  Normally both dogs march along shoulder to shoulder at the ends of their leashes.  I tell Cochise, “Play yard,” or “Home” or “Mail box”, or (his least favorite) “Work” and he heads off in the right direction.  I tell Blondie, “Stay with Cochise” and she obediently strides along beside him wherever he goes.  Normally, but not today.  Today I’d started the pickup earlier to warm it up before Marie heads into town and her work and Blondie really, really wanted to go for a ride; so when we came down the steps she was intent on going that direction.  Cochise smelled something fascinating down in the yard and really, really wanted to go that way to check it out.  So they strained in opposite directions, neither one in the direction I needed to go.  We worked it out eventually, but it was a disorganized swirl instead of the usual orderly parade. 

Yesterday was the official first day of spring.  It’s cold and foggy this morning.  There is a possibility of snow.  I was wondering what happened, when I remembered something I saw at the Source of All Wisdom (Facebook), “The first day of spring and the first spring day are not necessarily the same, and can be separated by as much as a month.”  I’m glad now that I didn’t put my potatoes in their garden boxes last weekend, I’ll do that next weekend.  But I had planned on working at opening the garden for summer session this week.

The winter gardening session was disappointing; it was too wet and cold for much of what I grew.  Still, we did get a fair bit of lettuce (until it got crushed by condensation that froze into ice on the inside of the greenhouse) spinach, beet tops, onion greens, garlic greens, carrot tops, as well as the last of the summer’s carrot roots.  I got enough Brussels sprouts for one meal – but that is the best I’ve ever done with these sprouts; normally the looper worms gut the plants and kill them in days.  By using a greenhouse vented with window screen I kept the moths away in the fall so the plants had a chance to grow to maturity for once.  I had to cover the top vent with plastic after a particularly wet spell practically drowned them out as well.

The Swiss chard is just now getting any size to it.  I’ll get one decent harvest from that when I pull it up to replant the box with something else.

On the positive side, our local Lowe's store now carries composted chicken manure.  That will help in rejuvenating the soil in my boxes.  I used composted cow manure last year with disappointing results.  Slowly, very slowly, I’m learning what works.

It has been a hard winter, not so much due to snow and cold as to this depression. My mother passed away a year ago March 10th,
2012 and still I am bogged down with this sadness.

Spring is close now, so close I can smell its promise and just as it renews life in our gardens it seems to be lifting my spirits as
well.

My friend, Cheryl has started her ghost hunting again. You can see her exciting ghost hunts at www.ceesghosthunting.blogspot.com. She has been instrumental in keeping me alive this winter. Friends have the power to do that - keep you going when all you want to do is stop feeling pain.

I am looking forward to getting into my garden! I’m trying not to do too much because spring can surprise you with a quick moving storm. I know from experience that a surprise storm can ruin your garden hopes. About four years ago an ice storm came through at the end of March and killed my Japanese Lilly bulbs. That was a beautiful flower and each year it came up it bore an addition to the original flower. I was so excited to see how many blooms would appear that year, but I was caught off-guard and uncovered.

This time of the year, I do some cleanup of leaves, and limbs but not too much. I call it piddling around the garden. I like to pull some of the leaves away to see if the Tulips are starting to come up, but then I cover them back so the weather won’t get them.

It’s just great to be outside in the sunlight and warm air, but it won’t be long, not now.

Here’s to spring, warmth, sunshine and flowers.

Yesterday as I attempted to sleep while the day carried on around me, I was harshly ripped from dreams by Peanut’s soul cracking howls.  This was his oh so subtle way of letting me know my husband had gotten home.  After hubby was settled inside, I slipped back into sleep.  Again I was wrenched from quiet stillness with the persistent gallop of hooves on the wooden deck.  Up and down the stairs was a loud clip-clop trotting and the sound of the adirondack chairs being readily rearranged around the back deck.  Try as I might, I could not shut out this noise.  Next came the ear piercing shrieks of the hawks.  This got my attention indefinitely.  As I clumsily raced down the stairs and out the door, I was greeted by 4 crazy eyed goats munching on the cardboard boxes left on the deck.  The pigs rooting around in the chicken coop with everything half-hazardously strewn around and chickens dispersed around the back half of the homestead.  Love these kind of wake up calls.

As I looked around further, there was a nice Houidini shaped hole in the fence, again.  After wrangling everyone back into their pen and yelling like a crazy person at the skies to scare the hawks away, I began to put the chicken coop back together.  Hubby then arrived back home with materials to repair the fence once and for all (hopefully).  What a morning.

With the stretch of Spring weather continuing tomorrow, there is much to be done.  Our chicken coop for Princess arrived so we will get that set up and show her her new place.  We are hoping to have time to pick up a Silkie buddy for her also.  We also have plans to finish the raised bed gardens, so a trip to the local topsoil supply store is on the agenda as well.  I have been setting the hanging planters with the lettuce and cherry tomatoes on the front porch to soak in the sunshine while I am at home and bringing them in at night.  I have noticed the cherry tomatoes are not doing so well with the transfer, so I am hoping the sun will help renew them. I definitely learned that this year I began planting too early.  Next year I will be waiting until March to begin my seedlings inside. Live and learn!

10 more days until Spring has sprung!

   

Until next time...

Don't miss any Homestead Redhead adventures, check out the full blog HERE. 

March is a time when our thoughts turn to spring. We find ourselves dreamily browsing seed catalogs, planning for herb & vegetable gardens, and adding just a few more outdoor fix-up projects to the must-do list. Soon the scents we love will surround us…newly-plowed fields, freshly-mown grass, and spring hyacinths
in full bloom.

Today; however, my mind is on last-minute threats of snowy weather. While we missed most of the nearly 10
inches of snow predicted for our part of the Midwest, today’s cold March wind has created a lingering chill in the air. Yes, this wind is up to its usual business. The tarp covering the chicken run is flapping as if it’s ready to blow away, and
the bird feeders in the old maples are swinging back & forth at such a pace no bird could possibly sit down to enjoy a meal.

March has earned its reputation as both lion and lamb. Someone mentioned to me that a year ago this week it was nearly 80 degrees in our hometown. And while that’s much too warm for a March day, I think we’re all waiting for those first balmy, blue-skied days to raise our spirits. Here, at least, it’s been a long, bone-chilling winter.

March, this milepost of spring, has us firmly in its grasp. Soon the winds will slacken and warm, there will be sunshine and the first hint of green. We’ll tentatively open a window and taken in the sweet aroma of an awakening world.

But until that day arrives, this farmgirl has a pot of chili simmering on the stove, and has just put another log on the fire. And so, before the  gardening chores beckon me, I try to remember all that needs doing inside. Yes, even when there’s still snow on the
ground, spring cleaning is in full swing here. My goal? To tackle room-by-room before that seasonal malady known as spring fever hits!

For 10 years I have lived in downtown Chicago, and--as my readers have heard me whine--I have craved a garden. Now it’s a new era. I no longer live or work in downtown Chicago. Sure, I’m only in the north ‘burbs, but the quiet and wildlife are welcome. Gone are the endless slabs of concrete and tiny trees in pots and traffic bleets among downtown’s skyscrapers, and now here are large trees in the ground, relentless grass and greenery, and the ability to hear the birds sing.

With the recent weird weather, God smiled down upon northern Illinois and gave us a Saturday in the mid-50s. Since we hadn’t had any serious snow or even hard-cold weather (which would be normal, starting as early October if Mother Nature wants), the ground was spring-soft, the sun peeking out and teasing, and my day free.

I decided to prep my four gardens. Oh, four gardens sounds ambitious, but it’s really not more space than any regular backyard garden. One of my criteria in choosing a house was that it have a sunny space for a garden. This house was perfect, but there wasn’t enough all-light area for a regular garden. There was, however, room to have four small, narrow gardens. It wasn’t really all in the back 40 (the back yard in my case), so I decided to call the gardens “the Back Forties.”

There is a lot to remember from my childhood gardening days, and a lot to learn (which fortunately I can do right here at Grit.com with articles like Small-Scale Crop Rotation). It is not nearly time to be planting. I haven’t tested the soil for pH balance. I haven’t mapped out which plants will go where. Heck, I haven’t even ordered my seed catalogs! But it is early enough to dream.

All I’ve done so far is dig out plants and weeds and deeply spade the dirt to “prep.” Maybe it was just really an excuse to play in the dirt. One section, what I call Garden 2, was originally part of the yard and the sod had to be removed. Not fun, with a spade. But ambition and a falsely-spring Saturday drove me.

I realize this column is all about food, and has always included a recipe. But food will grow out the Back Forties, and it will end up in my kitchen, on my plate, and in this column.

The dreaming goes on. Time to order the seed catalogs ...

Since most organic gardening is based on conditioning the soil long term, preparing your soil now in Fall is wise as well as a time saver when Spring comes. I follow the philosophy, feed the soil, not the plants. There are occasions when giving your plants an additional feeding boost is smart such as when you transplant seedlings or move plants to a new location, but in general taking steps to have nutritious soil from the start will assure healthy strong productive plants.

Organic fertilizers generally come from plants, animals, or minerals. Soil organisms break down the material into nutrients that plants can use. Some organic fertilizers contain significant amounts of only one of the major nutrients, such as phosphorus in bone meal, but they often have trace amounts of many other beneficial nutrients. In addition, we add organic material that improves soil structure and supports soil microorganisms, which helps make nutrients available more quickly, especially in warm weather when they are more active. As a general rule, organic fertilizers release about half their nutrients in the first season and continue to feed the soil over subsequent years.

Plant-based fertilizers 

Fertilizers made from plants generally have low to moderate N-P-K (nitrogen, phosphorus, potassium) values, but their nutrients quickly become available in the soil for your plants to use. Some of them even provide an extra dose of trace minerals and micronutrients. If you don't find all of these at the garden center, check out your local feed store. The most commonly available plant-based fertilizers include the following:

• Alfalfa meal: Derived from alfalfa plants and pressed into a pellet form, alfalfa meal is beneficial for adding nitrogen and potassium (about 2 percent each), as well as trace minerals and growth stimulants. Roses, in particular, seem to like this fertilizer and benefit from up to 5 cups of alfalfa meal per plant every ten weeks, worked into the soil. Add it to your compost pile to speed up the process.

• Compost: Compost is mostly beneficial for adding organic matter to the soil. It doesn't add much in the way of fertilizer nutrients itself, but it does enhance and help make available any nutrients in the soil.

• Corn gluten meal: Derived from corn, this powder contains 10 percent nitrogen fertilizer. Apply it only to actively growing plants because it inhibits the growth of seeds. The manufacturer recommends allowing 1 to 4 months after using this product before planting seeds, depending on the soil and weather conditions. Use it on lawns in early spring to green up the grass and prevent annual weed seeds from sprouting.

• Cottonseed meal: Derived from the seed in cotton bolls, this granular fertilizer is particularly good at supplying nitrogen (6 percent) and potassium (1.5 percent). Look for organic cottonseed meal because traditional cotton crops are heavily sprayed with pesticides, some of which can remain in the seed oils.

• Kelp/seaweed: Derived from sea plants, you can find this product offered in liquid, powder, or pellet form. Although containing only small amounts of N-P-K fertilizer, kelp meal adds valuable micronutrients, growth hormones, and vitamins that can help increase yields, reduce the plant stress from drought, and increase frost tolerance. Apply it to the soil or as a foliar spray. We use this at Itzy Bitzy Farm and find all of our veggies benefit from it and love it! It is especially good for plants grown in raised beds who may be struggling for nutrients or depleted what is in the surrounding soil. I especially like to apply it at transplant time as it really gives the plants a boost to get over transplant shock quickly.

• Soybean meal: Derived from soybeans and used in a pellet form, soybean meal is prized for its high nitrogen (7 percent) content and as a source of phosphorous (2 percent). Like alfalfa meal, it is particularly beneficial to nitrogen-loving plants, such as roses.

Animal-based fertilizers

Most animal-based fertilizers provide lots of nitrogen, which plants need for leafy growth. The following are some of the most commonly available ones:

• Manures: Animal manures provide lots of organic matter to the soil, but most have low nutrient value. A few, such as chicken manure, do have high available nitrogen content, but should only be used composted because the fresh manure can burn the roots of tender seedlings. There is one exception to the rule of aging. Since we here in the Northeast have a long dormant/no gardening season, we spread unaged manure into beds at the end of the growing season. These beds will not have anything planted in them until next Spring and so the manure has plenty of time to age and break down. Again, this saves us time in the Spring as well as saves us space that would otherwise be needed to pile manure for aging.

• Blood meal: This is the powdered blood from slaughtered animals. It contains about 14 percent nitrogen and many micronutrients. Leafy, nitrogen-loving plants, such as lettuce, grow well with this fertilizer. It also reportedly repels deer, but may attract dogs and cats.

• Bone meal: A popular source of phosphorous (11 percent) and calcium (22 percent), bone meal is derived from animal or fish bones and commonly used in a powdered form on root crops and bulbs. It also contains 2 percent nitrogen and many micronutrients. It may attract rodents.

• Fish products: Fish by-products make excellent fertilizers. You can buy them in several different forms. Fish emulsion is derived from fermented remains of fish. This liquid product can have a fishy smell (even the deodorized version), but it's a great complete fetilizer (5-2-2) and adds trace elements to the soil. When mixed with water, it is gentle, yet effective for stimulating the growth of young seedlings. Hydrolyzed fish powder has higher nitrogen content (12 percent) and is mixed with water and sprayed on plants. Fish meal is high in nitrogen and phosphorus and is applied to the soil. Some products blend fish with seaweed or kelp for added nutrition and growth stimulation. I use a combo seaweed & fish emulsion.

Mineral-based fertilizers

Rocks decompose slowly into soil, releasing minerals gradually over a period of years. Organic gardeners use many different minerals to increase the fertility of their soils, but it's a long-term proposition. Some take months or years to fully break down into nutrient forms that plants can use, so one application may last a long time.

• Chilean nitrate of soda: Mined in the deserts of Chile, this highly soluble, fast-acting granular fertilizer contains 16 percent nitrogen. It's also high in sodium, though, so don't use it on arid soils where salt buildup is likely or on salt-sensitive plants.

• Epsom salt: Epsom salt not only helps tired feet; it's a fertilizer too! Containing magnesium (10 percent) and sulfur (13 percent), Epsom salt is a fast-acting fertilizer that you can apply in a granular form or dissolve in water and spray on leaves as a foliar fertilizer. Tomatoes, peppers, and roses love this stuff! Mix 1 tablespoon of Epsom salt in a gallon of water and spray it on when plants start to bloom.

• Greensand: Mined in New Jersey from 70 million-year-old marine deposits, greensand contains 3 percent potassium and many micronutrients. It's sold in a powdered form, but breaks down slowly so is used to build the long-term reserves of soil potassium.

• Gypsum: This powdered mineral contains calcium (20 percent) and sulfur (15 percent). It's used to add calcium to soils without raising the soil pH.

• Hard-rock phosphate: This mineral powder contains 20 percent phosphorous and 48 percent calcium, which can raise soil pH — avoid it if your soil is already alkaline. It breaks down slowly, so use it to build the long-term supply of phosphorous in your soils.

• Soft-rock phosphate: Often called colloidal phosphate, soft-rock phosphate contains less phosphorus (16 percent) and calcium (19 percent) than hard-rock phosphate, but the nutrients are in chemical forms that plants can use more easily. This powder breaks down slowly, so one application may last for years in the soil. It also contains many micronutrients.

• Limestone: This mined product has various nutrient levels, depending on its source. It's used primarily to raise pH, but dolomitic limestone, which is high in calcium (46 percent) and magnesium (38 percent), also adds magnesium to the soil. This powder also comes in an easier to spread granular form. Calcitic limestone is high in calcium carbonate (usually above 90 percent). Conduct a soil test for pH and for magnesium to find out which kind of lime and how much to use.  

 

I have decided that there is nothing like a dish of fresh peas to make a spring day perfect! Yesterday afternoon around lunchtime, I went to the garden hoping to rescue a few final pods before I pulled up the vines to plant the jalapeños. This spring has been unseasonably warm in the Shenandoah Valley, and the peas have not been happy at all with temperatures hovering around 90 degrees. To my surprise, there were still quite a few chubby shells hanging bravely on the wilted pea plants. Enough pods to fill a little bowl with springtime goodness!

I found a perfect recipe for fresh peas: Bring a small amount of water to boil, add shelled peas, return to a boil and heat for about 10 seconds. This creates a sweet, firm texture and the peas literally pop in your mouth!

In other gardening news, I think I harvested the elephant garlic too soon. At least that’s what Edna tells me. But there were flowers forming on top of the plants, so I thought it was time to dig up the bulbs. The garlic seems to be fine, although I will admit the bulbs  would probably have gotten bigger had I heeded my neighbor’s advice (not that I’d ever tell her that!).  Nevertheless, I now have a garage full of fragrant garlic braids, drying in the steaming heat of this too-early summer. 

The rabbits are eyeing my newly planted broccoli plants. I reminded them that I didn’t mind sharing as long as I didn’t know I was sharing! I hope they understood the gravity in my voice. We negotiated quite well with the spinach, I can only assume we will divide the broccoli crop equally well.

Seven more days in the Schoolhouse, and then I will be a full time Theoretical Farmer. I am certainly looking forward to changing hats.

Broadway, VA                                    May 4                                                7:58 am

Be not sick too late, nor well too soon.  –Ben Franklin 

I could probably write the pollen count section of the National Weather Service forecast. My nose is a relatively good indicator of how much of the powdery stuff is invading the air on any given day. The tissue box on my desk also tells tales. I got tired of watching my seventh graders catch their nasal drips on their shirt sleeves, so I made a trek to the store and bought another supply of “extra soft, strong, absorbent, nose-sensitive” paper handkerchiefs. We’re all sniffling together.

I read bits of an empirical study on Atmospheric BioGeoscience of the Shenandoah Valley (the title itself should have warned me), but I wasn’t able to wade through the science-speak well enough to come to a rational conclusion as to why our mountains seem to trap a whole slew of allergy-causing varmints. Maybe they retire here for the same reason people seem to gravitate to this little spot in the world:  an inviting climate, good restaurants and friendly folk. Whatever the case, they’re here for the duration and there’s not a whole lot we can do about ‘em! Except maybe stock up on tissues and allergy pills.

Looking back at some photos from previous years, it's really obvious how early spring is this year. The dogwood in the front yard that was in full, coral-colored bloom on my daughter's first birthday almost six years ago is boasting all its beauty already, a full month early. Same goes in the back yard. One of my favorite things about this house is this tree, and not only because every year it does this:

 

 

 

It's right outside of our deck, and it gives us privacy from the folks behind us in the spring, summer and winter. When we first moved into the house, this part of what is actually two flowering trees, growing intertwined together, was only an upstart weed at the base of the other, already established tree. Our new neighbors were over, helping us to do some yardwork, and I remember her asking me if I wanted her to pull that "weed" out. I said sure. She battled with it for maybe half an hour or so before giving up. And thank goodness for that. For the past few years my daughter has climbed it, and sat on a bench underneath of its shady canopy. And every spring, when it first explodes into a white snowball, I gaze out at that startling white against a sky that hasn't yet fully lost the grey of winter and think, "Wow".

Every year it starts off white and goes to pink, and then the blooms just kind of give way to the leaves. But this year that transition was a little more pronounced. After this weekend's hard spring rain, the pink tree has lost much of its glory and given way to pink outdoor carpeting. How lovely!

 

The previous post left off with me sleeping on a basement couch.  Human baby on one side and newborn goat kid in an old playpen on the other.  Through all of this, and for the previous week or so, the wallflower character in the barn was my favorite goat, Micah.  She was a placid old girl, getting on in years and the last remaining doe from our original “starter herd.”  She’s a whole story in and of herself, maybe for a different time.  At the present, however, she was a concern.  She was bred to kid in about a week, but had started to lose condition a bit towards the end.  I’ll save you from all the veterinary details, but suffice it to say that the previous day she slipped severely downhill (figuratively anyway).
 

We doctored her and pampered her the night before, when we were out in the barn working with Ruth and her babies, but nevertheless it was looking grim.  So, it was disheartening but not surprising the next morning when Matt came in from doing chores to deliver the news that she was slipping away.  However, he said he could also see movement inside.  Clearly, at least one kid was still alive - which presented a dilemma in regards to the dying mother.

And then Matt left for his day job.

(Grudgingly of course, he knew he was going to miss a big day on the farm!)

My mind scrambled quickly.  We are experiencing the same plight of all rural animal producers - a severe shortage of food and farm animal vets.  Even if our vet was in his truck and able to start towards our farm as soon as he received our call, it would still be an hour.  And Micah didn’t have that kind of time.  Or more specifically - her kids did not.  

I picked up the phone to call my cousin - a local cattle producer who I knew had veterinary experience in the matter at hand.  It was time for drastic measures.  Unfortunately, I was suffering from a nasty cold and had lost my voice the day before, so I felt the need to identify and explain myself as soon as he I heard him say “Hello?” (You know, so he wasn’t wondering why this scary, raspy voiced creep was calling him very early in the morning!)

“Hey, this is Alex, I just have a cold.  I’m sorry to call so early, but I have a huge favor to ask.”  (I probably allowed a few more jumbled and frantic sentences to spill out before allowing him a reply.)

“Umm, ma’am, I think you have the wrong number.”

*Gulp*  Sure did.  I apologized profusely before hanging up, although the stranger on the other end was probably just wishing I would hang up so that he could go back to sleep.  Or at least so he didn’t have to hear any more from this voice that sounded like fingernails on a chalkboard.

I re-gathered my wits and called the right number.  It was time for a c-section.

Micah was 99.9% gone when we met out in the barn a short time later, and fading quickly.  There was no doubt it was time.  We carried her out into sun for better light, spread old t-shirts on the frosty hay scattered on the ground and began.  I silently said “goodbye” to my old friend and, in an incredible illustration of the cycle of life, one body took its last breath, and we worked to get new bodies to take their first.  

One at a time we pulled them out, bulky twins for being a bit premature, and once they were out a third was found!  They seemed apparently dead, but within minutes all three were breathing and emitting hopeful sounds of life.  We dried them and carried them into the house to warm up, placing them into the same old human-intended playpen that already held one goat kid.  Our very own caprine newborn intensive care unit.  Why did I not take pictures of the process?  I don't know, I'm terrible at remembering to get pictures of important things, I get too caught up in the moment.  Oh, and my hands were a bit busy.

One of the triplets didn’t make it - he lasted about 24 hours but just never gained the strength.   The other two were strong enough to take a bottle after only about a day of tube feeding.  They were laying up on their chests within 24 hours and standing within 48.  A short time after that they were strong enough to move out to the barn with the rest of the herd - an incredible testimony to the resiliency of life!

They came into the world dramatically and have added the “normal” chaos to our farm that only bottle babies bring.  You know - kids who refuse to stay in the barn, pop right through the squares in cattle panels long after they should not be able to, are found grazing in the backyard, get out of the pasture to play with the dogs (and in fact, get out to sleep with the dogs at night instead of with the other goats...)  You get the idea.  Luckily, now that they are 3 months old, well weaned and too big to slip through cattle panels, they are now staying in and behaving more like goats.

They were born right before Christmas so we named the smaller kid Tiny Tim:
 
Traditional markings for a Boer goat are, in short, white body with colored head.  The other kid’s color is not restricted to his head/neck but also goes down his right foreleg.  Therefore, he is considered “non-tradional”.  So we named him Elton John.
 

Well, I am now dug up. Not that I personally have been buried -- except under mountains of paperwork and random stuff undone. But that patch of lawn in my backyard that I've been glaring at for a year -- OK, nearly two years -- wishing without action that it would become a flower garden, has now been tilled. As you can see, something was needed: 
 

My plan isn't for a lot of edibles this year, except for herbs. I don't have time or energy for much maintenance, so I am going to broadcast  flower seeds madly and hope for much color -- though I'll broadcast in a somewhat orderly fashion, now that I've learned the pollinators are better served by groupings of color. This weekend the weather took a turn to the warm, Barney the Lawn Guy had a few hours to dedicate to my list, and off we went.

Because I live in a fairly new residential area where the soil has been scraped and rearranged to suit the builders rather than the green, growing things, I needed to add some amendments. So I went out and bought bags of top soil -- I know, I know: People GIVE that stuff away. This was easy, and remember, this is to be the lazy person's garden -- and I wanted to get it started. A few bags of Miracle Gro for Vegetables went in the mix, along with three bags of Moonure. I'm certain you can guess the active ingredient on that one.

 

After Barney had tilled the 4-foot strip around the fence and worked in the topsoil and compost, it didn't take my little pup long at all to notice that something had changed in the backyard.  

And from that realization, it didn't take but another three seconds for him to drop down and start rolling in it. Although he looks like a Teddy bear, in significant ways, CP is all-dog, all the time. One of these ways is his deep affection for getting up close and personal with the stinky and the icky.

 So now, there's a new game at my house, called Let CP Out Long Enough to Do His Business But Not Long Enough to Start Rolling. So far CP is winning large.

 Here's me with serious hat-hair, having perspired and dog-wrangled for a couple of hours. My plan is to fill that gnarly space behind me with lots of sunflowers, coneflowers, rudebekia and varoius balms -- plus, of course, a couple of tomato plants, basil and other culinary herbs just because one must. I hope the bees and butterflies like it because this season, it's all about the pollinators. And I hope I don't end up strangling my Cutie Patootie puppy before the summer is over.

Stay tuned ...

Winter is usually one of my favorite seasons, but not this year.  Perhaps it is because my bones are growing older or perhaps it was because this was a particularly intense winter.  Day after day of snowy sub-zero weather combined with an absence of sunshine took a toll on me, and I found myself sinking into depression.  And as it was for me so it was for my animals.  Horses and donkeys huddled around eating piles of hay.  Poultry refused to leave their coop for days on end.  We were in survival mode for this winter that would never end.

With each day, I found myself questioning why I do the things I do, and one of the things I questioned was why I blog for GRIT, a magazine I respect and have read for many years.  I have nothing to teach you.  I can't tell you the best way to do anything for I am still a novice myself.  Feeling I had nothing to offer you,  I stopped sending in blog posts and virtually stopped writing.

When I walk through darkness, I always turn to my faith, to the Bible, to help me find answers I so desperately  need.  I read and studied and prayed and waited patiently for the answer I needed, and it came as I knew it would.

It wasn't until the second week in April the snow started to melt and we were able to get out in the pasture once again.  As I watched Flower roll, I allowed myself to be filled with the joy of the earth emerging from its rest.  

 

For the first time in oh, so long, we were able to run, to stretch our legs, to feel our bodies in motion.

 

Back in the barn, I discovered one of my turkey hens had chosen a spot in my hay bales to lay her eggs.  I raised my hens from tiny poults and to see them laying eggs now was incredible.  Such a feeling of awe.  I'll never become jaded to the miracle of new life.

 

Perhaps it is a simple life living in the country, surrounded by animals and the incredible Mountain Man.  Mucking stalls, digging in the dirt and caring for our farm might not be everyone's idea of an exciting life but I know it's mine, and I am  truly blessed.  

I found the answer to my question that day in the pasture watching nature renew itself once again.  I do have something to share with you.  Each of us has personal struggles, personal triumphs and times of questioning.  If I can make one person smile, to feel not so alone as they go through depression, if I can touch you with my writing it is enough.

"To everything there is a season and a time to every purpose under Heaven."

Mountain Man and Mountain Woman can also be found at http://redpinemountain.com 

Dear Reader, this post falls under the category of Land Maintenance, so I thought I’d talk a bit about some things that are happening here in the mountains, and preparations we are making for the much welcomed spring.

Rain

Spring time here in the great Smoky Mountains means, first: rain.  Lots and lots of rain.  Our mountain retreat will seem more like Seattle for a month or so from late February through most of March.  The ground will be soggy, the rivers run full and we make good use of umbrellas and wide brimmed hats (like my fedora).  Not only does it rain often, but some will be very heavy rainfalls, which can lead to the washing out of driveways and roads.  Crusher-run gravel comes at a premium price at this time of year as residents scramble to repair damage to their drives and access roads.  This year with all the budget cuts, including road maintenance, some of our normally top-notch roads are deteriorating rapidly.  One that we normally use as a short-cut into town has become all but impassible because of the pot holes.

Color

On the brighter side; we also enjoy the brilliant colors of spring; all the fruit trees burst into bloom practically overnight, the pink and white of Dogwood trees and the lavender of Redbud trees, yellow of Forsythia and bright red of Quince.  The irises and day lilies have already put up their spiky green leaves and will soon flower into purple, orange and red blossoms.  Pansies are already putting on a show, and a multitude of ground covers are popping open in purple, pink, yellow, and white flowers. The following video is not of TGSM, but it looks a lot like our region:

 

Crops

The seeds I planted in peat pods in my mini-green house have sprouted and will, in another couple of weeks, be ready to harden off and then go into the ground in the garden.  The garden itself has lain dormant for the winter under a blanket of fall foliage and is now ready to till and make ready for planting.

This year I will adopt a Four-Square method of gardening instead of the traditional method I used last year.  Heavy rains caused too much shifting of the soil in my sloping garden plot - even though it is planted on the flattest spot of land we have here!  We lost some top soil, and my neat rows of radishes tended to wander around the garden.  Some seedlings took offense to being moved and died off.  I decided that I would terrace the plot this year, but over the winter discovered the Four-Square method and decided that this makes more sense for us.  I’ll go into more detail on this method in an upcoming post.

My late crop of lettuce and Brussels sprouts survived the winter and are getting a head start on the season already.  The three lettuce plants I dug up and put into pots in my office window grew well all winter long and provided me with fresh baby lettuce for use in sandwiches and salads.  It seems that trimming the lower leaves as they became large enough spurred growth on top, keeping the plant from bolting (going to seed) and dying.  The result looks more like a lettuce vine that a regular lettuce plant, but it worked out well for us.

I also transplanted a Brussels sprout plant and a tomato plant.  Both lived through the winter indoors, but neither did anything more than survive.  They will both go back out in the garden soon and will hopefully give me a jump-start on those crops this year.

Junior

Junior is the American Chestnut sapling that I grew from an acorn my twin brother by another mother, Mike, gave me.  He will be one year old this spring (Junior, not Mike) and is leafing out nicely again.  I was afraid he had become diseased last fall because of the way he lost his leaves; they turned to lace before falling off.  But he is apparently doing very well and is looking healthy so far.

As you may know, American Chestnut trees are all but extinct because of a blight that swept most of the nation in the early 1900’s because of introduction of Asian chestnut trees into our country.

In the Appalachian Mountains, it is estimated that one in every four hardwood trees was an American chestnut. Mature trees often grew straight and branch-free for 50 feet (sometimes up to one hundred feet), and could grow up to 200 feet tall with a trunk diameter of 14 feet at a few feet above ground level. For three centuries most barns and homes east of the Mississippi were made from American chestnut lumber.  The chestnut blight caused by C. parasitica has destroyed about 4 billion American chestnut trees.  Efforts are underway to try to repopulate this magnificent tree, but the dreaded blight fungus continues to grow in the soil in many areas.

Will Junior survive?  We’ll see; so far, so good.  His biggest problem so far was that his leaves grew so large that his spindly little trunk would not support them and he spent most of his time doubled over - especially when it rained.  So I built this support system to give him a hand until he beefs up a bit.

Lawn

It’s also time to think about getting ready for the season of lawn care. Clean up the yard before mowing. Remove leaves, sticks, papers and any other debris that has accumulated. Remove any dead spots  visible in your lawn by vigorous raking. Once everything has been cleaned up and debris removed, follow with a lower than normal mowing. This should be short enough to remove the dead tips of the grass. This shorter mowing will encourage the roots to awaken and start growing. Compost the trimmings.

If you have any dead spots, re-seed now. Rake the area thoroughly to roughen up the top soil. Spread an appropriate seed, tamp down the area and cover with straw. If reseeding is required, hold off using any fertilizers with pre-emergent weed controls. You'll still have time to do this application in about 6 weeks. This will give the new grass seed time to sprout and take hold.

Don’t forget to change the oil in the mower, give it a thorough check-up to see that it is in good working order, and sharpen or replace the blade. A sharp blade cuts the grass, a dull one tears them.

 

When I was a kid in North Dakota, I knew spring had really arrived when the substantial lilacs in our yard bloomed. That far north, the lilac bloom came in May some years and in June others. This year, at my farm in Kansas, the lilac bloom started the night before last – I noticed that familiar scent when passing my only lilac bush on the way in from feeding the lambs. This morning, about half of the clustered flower buds had burst. I figure it will be another day or so before the lilacs bloom full force – I hope the predicted rain tomorrow doesn’t destroy the flowers.

My favorite lilacs are all shrubs in the genus Syringa that belong to the species vulagaris – the plain old ordinary common lilac. I so enjoy this deciduous plant because it thrives in the same harsh environments of my childhood and adolescence where it shaded me in summer, its arching under story provided endless opportunity for creating secret forts, and its beautiful flowers offered springtime cheer. My Osage County farm has but a single mature lilac hedge that hides the propane tank from view. I’ve transplanted a number of suckers but they have not yet matured.

Non-hybrid common lilacs bloom in a variety of colors. Some are deep lavender, others are purplish pink and still others are white. The shrub as we know it originated in what is now Eastern Europe and has been the subject of much cultivation and hybridization in the Western world since the mid 1500s. These plants have history, and in spite of their susceptibility to mildew in the late summer and fall, gardeners and landscapers the world over continue to make a go of growing them – especially in colder regions. I don’t think I could ever move much further south than central Kansas because common lilacs bloom only after a period of real winter.

Lilacs bloom to announce spring to my way of thinking. And spring just wouldn’t seem real without the sight and scent of lilacs.

 

It’s spring fever. That is what the name of it is.
And when you’ve got it, you want – oh, you don’t quite know
what it is you do want, but it just fairly makes your
heart ache, you want it so! – Mark Twain

In the last few weeks, I have been entertained by a bevy of birds both at work and in my backyard.

Late spring in Kansas is the time of year I see baby birds old enough to try out their wings, but still young enough to rely on their mothers as a source of food.  I was on the phone with my aunt the other day and something in the back yard caught my eye. On closer inspection, I could see it was a baby robin. I wondered where the mother was. About that time, I saw a female robin hop through the bushes. The baby robin fluttered over to her and opened its mouth. Mama robin obliged by pecking at the ground and coming up with some nourishment to put in her offspring’s mouth. I felt sorry for the little one when the mother flew over the fence and the baby couldn’t fly over or squeeze through. The pair was eventually reunited.

A few weeks earlier, I had the back door open, enjoying the beautiful spring temperatures. Even from the front of the house, I could hear a wren chattering. Wrens have a melodious song that I never get tired of hearing, but they also have a scolding chatter. I went to see what the commotion was all about. I saw a male sparrow sitting on the perch of the wren house, thus blocking the entrance, and the wren was in the tree scolding the sparrow. I pounded on the screen door and the sparrow flew away. Minutes later, I heard the wren chattering again. I went to look and that darn sparrow had returned to the wren’s perch! I pounded on the screen door again and the sparrow flew away. This scene played out two more times before the sparrow gave up and went on his merry way. Once the wren flew after the sparrow, but broke off its pursuit and returned to the wren house.

This wasn’t the first time I’d seen a sparrow do this. Last year I witnessed the same scenario. About the time I was going to pound on the screen door, however, a robin swooped down and scared the sparrow away. I’m sure the wren was grateful to the robin for coming to its rescue, but I have no doubt that in spite of its size, the wren could have handled the situation on its own. 

 I’m beginning to wonder if each spring the sparrows are attempting a hostile takeover of the wren house, but they should have learned from one of their predecessors that the opening is too small for them (besides, they’re not cavity dwellers). I can remember my dad having to rescue a sparrow who had its head stuck in the opening of the wren house.

 

When I’m out doing yard work, it gives me the opportunity to observe birds more closely or hear calls I wouldn’t normally hear in the house. Once when I was cutting off flowers that had already bloomed, I noticed a robin had been hanging around. After I finished and sat back, the robin came over into the dirt, pecked at the ground, extracted a juicy worm and promptly swallowed it.

Recently, I’ve been able to observe birds of a different feather at work. The editors of Mother Earth News, one of our magazines here at Ogden Publications, have been trying out a new incubator. Over 200 eggs of different varieties were ordered from hatcheries in Ohio, Georgia, Pennsylvania and Texas and placed in the incubator. We not only have a variety of chickens – Babcock Browns, Golden Comets, Dominiques, Rhode Island Reds, Buff Orpingtons and White Silkies – we also have ducks and quail.   

 

Each day more and more eggs hatch and they are transferred to the make-shift “nursery” (a cardboard box with a heat lamp). The box doesn’t stay occupied for long though. Several of my co-workers have taken chicks home. I would love to take some of them home myself, but my current living situation isn’t conducive to having chickens.

I never thought I wanted chickens, but the longer I work here, the more I learn about the benefits of owning chickens. Now I’m interested in learning more about the different breeds and which ones would suit my needs. Thanks to some of my co-workers, this city girl (I’m really a country girl at heart) is learning about more than just the birds in her backyard.

Are you a birdwatcher? Do you have chickens? I’d love to hear about your experiences with birds.

I should have known by the way the bigger of the two geese had been honking and carrying on when the dogs and I passed that a family was getting ready to happen. But sometimes – often – I am thinking of things miles away as I make my daily rambles around the place. Imagine my pleasant surprise on Sunday morning when I looked out and saw Mama and Papa Goose swimming side by side with their two new offspring carefully positioned between them. The little goslings couldn’t have been but a few hours old, and there they were, paddling confidently between Ma and Pa, looking very interested in this new world.

What an amazing thing, life. One moment there’s an egg and some goo, the next minute, there’s a small creature with sufficient moxie to stumble into the water and start paddling without Mom and Pop shouting, “No, it’s one … two … one … two… left … right …” One day there’s just a seed in the ground, looking completely inert and the next day … I HAVE RADISHES!!! I want to run around showing them to all the neighbors, like my sister and I used to when something green first popped its head above ground in our garden at home.

The goose babies aren’t easy to spot out there in the weeds by water’s edge. That’s the biggest dandelion I’ve ever seen … no, wait! It’s a gosling and he’s actually pulling at the weeds! How do they know to do that?

The rain just keeps coming down out here, and the ponds are fuller than full, which means there’s a fairly strong stream cascading downhill past the barn and into the watercourse. I worry that the babies will get swept away, but my neighbor Nancy, who took these photos, told me she saw the parents come out of the upper pond and walk around the “rapids,” then plunk into the lower pond once they were past the swift water.  Smart geese, protecting those little babies.

Once more I am completely blown away by the brilliance of nature and grateful down to my cells that that I get to pay such close attention.

Photos by Nancy Krause 

We have had a hard year … as have many people in this changing world today. I was feeling particularly sorry for my personal problems one day and decided to go for a walk to clear my head. It was a gorgeous day, a sharp contrast to my murky mood. I began to pray for God to help me to understand why things were happening the way they were and to give me the strength and wisdom to get through it … Thankfully, I took my camera along …

I noted the brown, dry grass crunching underfoot. Everything, in the midst of what was supposed to be the dawn of spring, was still dead and lifeless.

Until … I stopped and saw a small, white flower peeking out from among the brown grass!

I began searching for more … and began to happily play hopscotch trying to avoid the bounty of blooms scattered across the native grass carpet.

I found many beautiful things on that walk.

And by the time I got back to the house, I again prayed to God. I thanked him for the beauty he created, the incredible land we are so blessed to live on:

And the gentle way he showed me that even though things in my crazy life look tough now, there is hope and life on the way …

Brighter days are coming, and God is in the midst of us, holding our hand.

Ta-da-da-ta-ta-da! The daffodils are here! The early flowering bulbs have been opened for a couple of weeks – the crocus, the snowdrops, and the cute, little chionodoxa – glory-of-the-snow. They are all welcome spring visitors, but it’s in eager anticipation, I await my favorite springtime flower: the daffodil. When the daffodils bloom, it really feels like spring has arrived. I think it’s so fitting that they have built-in trumpets to blare, “Spring is here!!!” So beautiful, they can toot their own horns all they like and no one would mind.

The early, little ‘Tete-de-Tetes’ in the nursery’s arboretum are in full bloom; my early varieties at home are just starting to open. It’s the perfect time to cut them, letting them open indoors so that their heady scent fills the house. The later varieties are still just nubs poking through the ground. My favorite of the later daffodils is ‘Thalia.’ Sometimes referred to as the orchid narcissus, it’s a beautiful, fragrant pure white daffodil. All daffodils are in the Narcissus genus, but not all Narcissus are daffodils.

One such non-daffodil Narcissus was a figure in Greek mythology. Narcissus was a beautiful, young hunter, without the disposition to match his appearance. Conceited – a true tooter of his own horn – and ill-tempered, his beauty was only skin deep.

Echo, a nymph of the woods and hills, was equally as beautiful as the young hunter. She had a gloriously sweet voice and was very fond of using it – always getting in the last word in conversations or arguments. This proved to be her curse. Echo kept Hera, the reigning goddess of Olympus, detained with her chatter while Hera’s philandering husband, Zeus, escaped the company of the nymphs unnoticed by his wife. Zeus escaped Hera’s wrath, but Echo did not. “You shall still have the last word, but no power to speak first,” Hera cursed when she discovered what Echo had done.

Echo, tormented with repeating all she heard, saw Narcissus chasing prey in the mountains and fell hopelessly in love. Not being able to express herself without sounding like a broken record, it was an unrequited love. “Pete and Repeat were in a boat. Pete fell out and who was left?” With Echo repeating everything Narcissus said, their conversation was reminiscent of that children’s joke we’ve all heard a thousand times … possibly at one retelling. Narcissus found Echo to be a repetitive bore and shunned her. Echo was devastated and headed to the mountains. There poor Echo pined away and died, only her voice living on in the hills. You can still call to her to this day, and she will answer … but Hera’s curse was not lifted upon her death, and all you will hear is Echo repeating your call.

One good curse deserves another and what goes around comes around. Nemesis, the avenging goddess, punished Narcissus for his vanity and cold-heartedness by dooming him to “feel what it was to love and meet no return of affection”; he was cursed with falling in love with his own image.

In a pool Narcissus gazed, becoming so self-absorbed he forgot all else. He would have done well to use that self-absorption to his advantage by becoming sponge-like. Then he could have soaked up the water in the pool, releasing himself from gazing upon his own reflection. As it were, he was resigned to stare into the pools of his eyes reflected in the pools of water. Whenever he bent to hug or kiss the image in the pool, the water would ripple and his love, disappear. It eventually drove him to madness. Then he too, wilted and died, leaving only a flower in his place.

As with most of the Greek myths, there are variations of the story of Narcissus. The same is true of the origins of the word “daffodil” – tracing a word back in time can lead to origins as cloudy as poor Narcissus’ eyes became after staring at his reflection for so long. Originally “daffodil” was affodil, which referred to a plant in the lily family, the asphodel. The “asph” in asphodel became “aff” probably through phonetics and a misspelling. In medieval manuscripts, asphodel was spelled phonetically as “asfodel”. It’s thought probable one scribe could not decipher the lettering of another scribe, and “asfodel” became affodil. The first appearance of “daffodil” came in the sixteenth century, and how the “d” got to the front of the line-up is unclear. Best guesses are that daffodil is corrupted from the Dutch de affodil, “the affodil.” (Then, as now, the Dutch were leaders in bulb cultivation.)

Whatever the story behind the words, one thing is for certain. The sunny-yellow daffodil brightens gardens and hearts alike.

I have never been much for growing things (maybe it was the huge gardens we raised when I was a kid). Since I left home I have had exactly 3 house plants, and they've all died of neglect. I used to say that I had a black thumb. But ... whoever lived in my house before me planted perennials, so I have spring flowers.

And they tickle me to no end. I smile, I giggle, I talk about "my daffodils blooming" and "my crocuses coming up," just like I had something to do with it.

They herald the hope of the season for me, and I thank whoever planted them from the bottom of my heart every year as the cold finally creeps away and the first purple crocus peeks out of the ground.

The crocuses (which are finished now) were beautiful.

But the weird weather we've been having around here (really, snow on April fools?) messed with my daffodils. (Hear the ownership I feel?) They did bloom, but the stems had already bent over in the cold/wind/storms.

There's something especially sad about flowers that point at the ground. But, spring is coming, and, whether it's frozen or not, the moisture we're getting will make everything greener in the long run.

Which of the following is correct?

1.) Equinox: the two times each year (approximately March 21 and September 23) when the sun crosses the equator and day and night are of equal length.
2.) Equinox: a rare breed of farm animal which is a cross between a horse and ox; from the archaic term equine-ox.  

Yeah, that was ridiculously and silly of me, and childish too. The equinox has nothing to do with equines or oxen, or even spring chickens for that matter. The vernal equinox was Friday, and it signaled that spring had come to the Northern Hemisphere! Spring is my least favorite of the seasons, and I wasn’t giddy-up until now about its arrival. Ok, I swear I’ll quit horsing around now with the bad puns. But who doesn’t feel at least a little bit silly and giddy at the beginning of spring? I think more people anticipate the start of spring more than any other season; it’s the season of rebirth, and brings a renewed respect for the green earth around us. Doesn’t that make you want to jump for joy, (preferably in a mud puddle), and act like a child again?  

You wouldn’t know it’s spring by looking at my thermometer; it read 21 degrees Friday morning! We enjoyed some warm temperatures leading up to today though, and signs that spring had arrived were present everywhere. Like Punxsutawney Phil did last month, the crocus, glory-in-snow and daffodils stuck their noses out of the ground recently and sniffed the air – but unlike Phil, shadow or not - they found it to their liking, and decided to stay awhile.

The maples are budding, and will soon release a storm of pollen that’ll color everything yellow.  

The milder weather has brought the birds back to my feeder....and the squirrels too. Keith usually keeps the pole that the feeder sits on greased because those pesky squirrels have torn apart numerous feeders in the past. The grease must have worn off over the winter because they had no problem climbing the pole. They were fun to watch, actually; little acrobats that go through all kinds of antics to get at the food. But, sigh ... Later, I noticed they'd chewed through the plastic part of the feeder … again. The new replacement feeder I bought the following day, is supposed to be squirrel-proof. We'll see.

Pavement clear of winter’s snow and ice is a fresh canvas for sidewalk chalk graffiti. Shelby’s message on our back porch is a reminder that even during these tough economic times, you just have to take a break, and enjoy the day.

And that we did. Now, if only I can get that irritating song out of my head that’s been stuck there since she wrote the message.

Keith tended the firepit, burning the branches that blew down over the winter, saving a few choice ones so Quetta can still play "Stick". He also cleaned and prepared his grill, readying it for the first steaks of the season. Mmmmm ... the smell of steaks cooking outside ... another sign warmer weather has arrived.  

And while there was a fire burning, steaks marinating, graffiti drawn, and sticks being chased, I ... well ... I played in the mud. Go ahead and laugh. Keith did.  Staring at the pile of concrete cinder blocks, I had a vision. The blocks were from retaining wall we buried last fall in our “Saving Grace” effort. While the majority of the wall was buried, the top layers were removed to allow for a gentle slope down to the ravine. I decided they’d make a good, basic framework for a set of steps leading down the hill.

I thought this would be the perfect time to start; because it’s mostly clay, I wanted to get the digging done before it dried to an impenetrable consistency. It wasn’t just soft though; the snow-melt and rain turned it to mucky mess. Up and down the hill I lugged those blocks, and set them in place. It had to be a quick process – if I stood in one place too long, I’d be stuck there. My aptly named Muck Boots made smucking sounds with each step I took.  

“You should see yourself," laughed Keith. I looked down. My boots were covered in mud nearly up to my knees; my jeans and shirt only were only a little less splattered. My gloves ... what gloves? You couldn’t even tell I had them on; it looked as if I’d dipped my hands in chocolate cake batter. I couldn’t see my face or hair, but I imagine they were streaked with mud, too.

Our new neighbors two houses down decided it was a good time to introduce themselves. First impressions are lasting impressions, but I’m sure they’ll see me looking much worse as the gardening season progresses. Spring is also the time to get reacquainted – and acquainted – with neighbors. The warmer weather brings everyone outside and they’ll stand, chatting while you work, offering suggestions. Sometimes they’ll even help implement those suggestions.

Sometimes I have too much help.

Our pup, Quetta (Key-tah), was no less muddy than I. She stuck her nose into everything I did, even helping dig the holes ... mostly in places were I did not want holes dug. She inspected the wooden handles on the shovel and rake – and they met with her taste-tested approval.

While I was covered in mud, I decided to play some more. I moved two Michigan holly – in other parts of the country known as winterberry (Ilex verticillata), and starts from a yellow-twig dogwood from the creek bank onto the hill. The yellow-twig will root anywhere a branch meets with soil, and I had enough starts to make a good-sized bush. I did the same with Virginia sweetspire (Itea virginica) – it spreads by runners; four shrubs were made from the fifty or so starts I got from one main bush. All should do well in the heavy soil and partial shade on the hill. If they don’t, or if the steps don’t compare with my vision once they’re complete – if my dream of rustic stairs leading down a woodland slope turns into a nightmare – I’ll just rip it out and start again.  

That is part of the beauty of a garden; it is ever-changing. Plants grow ... or they don’t. Sometimes they grow more than we anticipate. They can always be moved to a more suitable site. “Permanent” features are never permanent; walkways can be redirected, potting sheds reconstructed to make them bigger, and cinderblock stairways can be dug out ... providing the muck they were set in didn’t harden to a concrete-like consistency.  

But when all is said and done; when the day’s work is finished – nothing feels as good as resting in the warm spring sun.

Spring, and thus swarm season for the honeybee, are here, “already”. It seems no matter how much planning we do before it gets here, we aren’t ready for it. Everything needs to be done at the same time. With the blooming of the trees and the buzzing of the bees, our laid back winter lifestyle just changed into sunup to sundown activity. Here at Windy Ridge Apiary the bees have had to take a back seat to the other springtime chores. Not that I want them to. I wish my bees were here working those first flowers and the early blooming trees. In the mean time we will get the garden planted, the clover seed spread and the pasture rolled. Since the area I want in clover is covered with grass and weed stems, I am going to try rolling the clover seed in with a water-filled roller. Hopefully this will get it in close enough contact with the dirt to germinate. If it does, pictures will be posted. 

It’s swarm season for the honeybee. Swarms have already issued from southern hives and they are getting ready around here. A swarm is the way a colony of honeybees reproduces itself. It is their instinct to build up in late winter and when pollen is available and the temp is right, a swarm will leave when the newly hatched queen is ready to go. Swarms are good and bad. They can leave a colony weak and not able to make a honey crop. The good is if you can retrieve the swarm you can increase your apiary. Usually the bees don’t land where you can retrieve them without the risk of breaking your neck trying to get the swarm from a tree just a bit higher than your ladder. Our southern friends now have to worry about the swarm being an African swarm. We have heard about the "killer bees" for years. They have spread across the South, and the beekeepers are learning how to deal with them. If you live in the South, be careful about approaching a swarm of bees. If they seem the least bit aggressive, avoid them completely. Swarms are usually gentle. The bees have engorged themselves with honey before leaving the hive, so they have food when they arrive at the new location. The swarms you see are probably from a managed hive since the mites have just about destroyed all the feral colonies. I am putting out a nuc box with a swarm attractant to try to attract any swarms that might be in the area. 

If you have bees, swarms seem to be attracted to your area by the smell of your bees. The hive has a distinct order, which I look forward to smelling again. This is why to me it makes no sense putting chemicals in the hive. So much communication among the bees is done with pheromes the bees release. If you introduce chemical odors the bees lose their ability to communicate effectively, which may be part of the cause of CCD.  If I attract a swarm, I will go through the procedure of hiving the new bees. 

Swarming is natural for the bees, but beekeepers don’t want our bees to swarm since our goal is to have strong, well populated colonies for the honey flow. This is where management on the part of the beekeeper can lessen the chances of a colony swarming. Although once a colony has decided to swarm, it is almost impossible to stop them. Some ways of preempting this is to check the hives as early in the year as the weather permits. A warm day (50 to 60 degrees) with no wind will allow a quick internal inspection. Just be careful not to chill the brood, as this is the time of brood rearing for the spring flow. If a colony has abundant bees at this time, mark them for nucleus division or taking a frame or two of brood and young bees to give to a weak colony. Always check food stores in the early spring also. This is the time the bees will starve. They are raising brood which takes honey and also building their population before the nectar is available. If they are short on stores you can either take honey from a colony with ample stores or feed sugar syrup. Don’t have the mind set that if you have to feed, something is wrong. We supplement feed all of our other farm animals. I went to part of a beekeepers meeting last month. The man talking about checking your bees in the spring made it sound like if the bees need anything now, you’re just wasting your time. I couldn’t follow his logic. That being said, I would suggest a lot of reading from many different sources if you are going to have bees, so you can discern what makes the most sense in managing honeybee colonies. I’ll promote Bee Culture magazine again, it’s the best source of bee-related information I have found. 

I have been assembling the rest of the bee equipment. The frames with the wax foundation is about the last thing to do. The wax foundation is more fragile than I remember. I am going to have to evaluate the value of assembling wooden frames and wax foundation against plastic frames with wax coating. I have bought three such frames and I guess we’ll let the bees decided if they like them. I have read that some bees don’t draw out the plastic foundation very well. Along those lines I will share with you my plans and thoughts about the equipment I am going to use in my next blog. I’ll try to catch some bees at work, too.

Nothing clears the mind (and messes up the hair) like a ride in the back of a friend’s convertible. It was such a gorgeous spring day yesterday I couldn’t resist the invitation to “cruise” down the boulevard with three of my co-workers. We all needed to get away from our desks and clear our minds. It was the perfect antidote.

On the way back to work, my friend who was driving cranked up the radio and we hollered and laughed, enjoying the last few moments of our lunch hour.

Spring has a tendency to bring out the kid in all of us. There’s something about the rising temperatures after our confinement from the cold winter months that draws us outside and causes us to be a little giddy.

I’m not totally opposed to winter. I do like snow, the holidays, snuggling under a blanket and the frosty chill in the air. But when I feel the mercury starting to rise, see flowers poking through the ground and the trees starting to bud, I rejoice in the promise of warmer weather.

The other day, a pair of house finches checked out the light fixture on my front porch. It seems to be a popular place for them to make their nest. They’re also attracted to the wreath just outside my front door. The robins, however, seem to prefer the flower pots.  As long as the neighborhood cats stay away, my porch becomes a nursery for baby birds every spring.

For weeks now, I’ve heard birds chattering joyfully, heralding the advent of spring. I get a little annoyed on Saturday mornings though when I’m trying to sleep late and the sparrows and starlings seem to be having an argument just outside my bedroom window.

I always feel sorry for the robins when they make their return on a warm day and then a cold snap comes along. When that happens, I’m sure they wonder if they took a wrong turn or didn’t look at the calendar correctly.

As soon as the spring shows its happy face, the gardener in me comes out. I love flowers and when I took over the yard work after my dad died, I discovered how therapeutic gardening can be. 

I just finished proofreading an article (that will be in an upcoming issue of our sister magazine, GRIT ) about kitchen gardens. Now I want to sprinkle herbs and vegetable seeds in with my flowers, so I can have a functional as well as an aesthetic garden. That’s my hope anyway.

Spring is a season of hope. It reminds us that the winter in our hearts won’t last forever. It’s a promise of a new beginning and renewed possibilities. It is a season in which we celebrate the Resurrection of our Lord Jesus, our Eternal Hope.

I hope I never stop appreciating a beautiful spring day and the uplifting feeling I get from observing the signs of the season.

How about you? Does spring bring out the child in you? What do you like to do when spring appears? Let me know.