September Morn

Posted on September 13, 2013 by bygeorge

Morning Glories at last . . . .

Found myself humming an old Neal Diamond tune “September Morn” as I made the rounds of a morning walk. The dog days of August are now behind us and the sunlight and temperature are more agreeable. After watching and watering these vines all summer, they are now finally in bloom with the most amazing blue flowers. Unfortunately they won’t last, as we typically have our first frost before the middle of the month. Just maybe we will get to enjoy them a little bit longer this year. But other wonders await on this walk.

Autumn asters just in time . . . .

This aster is blooming in the vegetable garden just in time for our wedding anniversary. A direct descendant of our wedding flowers, it somehow grew from seed at the edge of a bed where I had tried to winter over dozens of pots of chrysanthemums and asters. I had hoped to transplant them into the flower beds the following spring and was terribly disappointed to discover everything had died, apparently due to the dry winter. It seemed like such a waste of all the glorious flowers that we used to decorate our outdoor autumn wedding! It wasn’t until the following spring that I noticed this little sprig of aster growing up through an opening in the weed barrier in the pathway between garden beds. In spite of many obstacles, it has survived and bloomed for the past three years and serves as a reminder of a beautiful September day, 2009.

The sage is in bloom . . . .

Sagebrush takes on a golden hue this time of year as it blooms and tries to compete with the Rabbit Brush, which is brilliant yellow.

Beetlejuice . . . .

And then there were tomatoes . . . .

With an abundance of tomatoes, jalapeno and anaheim peppers, it looks like time to make salsa. Wish there was an easier way to peel, seed and chop all these tomatoes!

Fennel foliage . . . .

The prettiest greens in the garden . . . .

Swiss chard is ready to pick and there is enough for an entire town. Why did I plant so much?

And more tomatoes . . . .

He loves me, he loves me not . . . .

A fungus amungus . . . .

What an arresting sight! Pale pink bubbles rising from the damp earth. We could only guess at what type of plant they might be.

love in a barrel . . . .

A mix of old fashioned flowers turned up some surprises. Even more surprising was finding this interesting flower, loves-lies-bleeding, in the recent issue of Living magazine. It was featured in a formal arrangement draped over tall ebonized pedestals in a stairway at Lily Pond, one of Martha Stewart’s many estates. Hmpph! Martha has nothing on my whiskey barrels.

A mysterious crater . . . .

These tiny craters are scattered in soft sand along the walking path. They range in size from 1/4 inch to 1-1/2 inch in diameter and appear in groups of 20-30 within a few feet. What form of life can be drilling these perfectly shaped little holes in the ground? This will require some research.

A Tiger In The Garden!!

Posted on September 13, 2013 by bygeorge

A tiger by the tail . . . .

This creepy little guy was burrowed into some loose straw mulch when I uncovered him in the garden. I was placing some potted trees in a bed where they will winter over with the help of straw, leaves and compost. That is, if I have the courage to resume my work after abandoning the whole project to the salamander. I suspect there are more salamanders than just this one.

My shreiks and screams summoned the family biologist who identified him as a Tiger salamander. Even though he appeared perfectly harmless, and was beating a hasty retreat from the area where I found him, the incident left me shaking with fright. Childhood memories of the salamanders who used to reside in our basement are still with me and I recoil at the thought of stepping on one or worse yet, touching one as I dig through my garden.

Our tiger was carried off to the pond a good distance from the garden and left to fend for himself in a new territory. Maybe tomorrow I will get back to the pile of straw waiting in the garden, and with some luck, will not encounter any more tigers.

Chicken Fruit

Posted on September 8, 2013 by bygeorge

Egad! Or eggs, to be exact . . .

Our little girls have grown so, and look what happened! They are producing about a dozen or so eggs each week and today we gave away a dozen to one of our neighbors as we cannot keep up. They are still small, but so delicious! Have been sharing garden produce with the girls and I think it makes for great tasting eggs. Take a bow, girls!

Dee Dee is supreme in size . . . .

Rhoda is reddest . . . .

Pearl the Adventurer flies the coop daily for greener pastures . . . .

Clara likes to be petted . . . .

Hedda has deep blue luster to her black feathers –what a beauty!
. . . .

Phyllis and Marilyn, our little fluffy tops lay pretty ivory-colored eggs . . . .

Trying to get Phyl and Marilyn to stand still for a photo is next to impossible–they shake their elegant plumes like a feather duster and dart around the pen, pecking at my shoes. At times they present themselves directly at my feet and hop straight into the air to get my attention. What characters, and so gentle.

Denice (or DeeNice, famous on YouTube) . . . .

Grandson Seamus was asked to name this girl as he picked her out last March as a baby chick. He said I needed to watch a video to understand. I did, and I did. Not all eleven of the girls have been featured here, so they anxiously await their turn to preen for our blog followers.

Longhorn Steer Wrestling

Posted on June 2, 2013 by bygeorge

“I’ll send this hunk of leather to the moon!” . . . .

Abe the steer has decided he doesn’t like the ancient saddle we mounted on the hitching post. The saddle is stiff with age and quite heavy, and Abe has been attacking it, knocking it to the ground, and then continuing to “charge” it with great vigor. We put it back up and he comes along and knocks it off again. Only Abe knows for sure why??

“I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll stomp it to the ground!” . . . .

Abe is akin to a five-year old boy with nothing to do. He makes a regular raid on the goose pen, overturning a heavy, cast-iron feeding tray and eating the cracked corn and scratch grains. Today he added insult to injury by drinking all the water from their pan, tore open a new bale of straw I was planning to use as mulch on a newly seeded hillside, ate the grain and made a complete nuisance of himself. We keep a heavy rubber strap enclosure on the gate, leaving it open enough for the geese to come and go. Abe waltzes right through it.

“What!???” . . . .

Since his birth last year in March, Abe has been wandering the property and by now he knows every nook and cranny where he may find a tasty bite, every vulnerable spot in the fences where he might explore new territory, and every watering station along the way. He likes to drink from the bird bath outside the living room window (even though it holds a scant few cups of water) as well as the wading pool and water bowl we fill for the geese each day. He may choose to drink from the pond, the horse tank and Tilly’s two-way watering station at the corral, but his insatiable curiosity leads him to dip his nose into every other water source along the way.

The picture of innocence . . . .

When he’s feeling frisky, Abe becomes a 600-pound torpedo, bucking and kicking up his heels as he tears off at a dead run down the creek bottom. We keep a wary eye on him as he follows us to the barn each evening for his “cake” and bit of hay. I remember the day he came up behind our old black lab Lady and bumped her backside, and I don’t wish to be the recipient of such kindness.

The Yearling

Posted on May 30, 2013 by bygeorge

Tru Tahlequa Miss is one year old . . . .

Tilly the filly celebrated her first birthday on Mother’s Day 2013, and she is growing into quite a young lady. “Lady” may be a stretch–she is full of green grass and enjoying the spring weather with a few antics, which meant it was time to begin her training in earnest. Once the corral dried out, we began some round pen exercises which settled her down, for the time being. A trip to the vet for her annual vaccinations was a bit trying as she felt claustrophobic in the trailer now that she has grown considerably in size from her last visit in the fall. More frequent loading and unloading, as well as short hauls are in order to make her more comfortable with this experience.

Ready for some excitement . . . .

Tilly may have springs loaded in her legs, as she has jumped the fence into the neighbor’s pasture twice now, which causes great consternation. The fence she so easily negotiates is an ancient wonder of twisted cedar posts, rusty barbed wire, tired woven wire and more patches and repairs than one can count. It is the oldest remaining stretch of fence on our property and nobody can remember when it was built. The three strands of barbed wire at the top could cause serious injury if she gets tangled up and cannot disengage herself. After her first foray, the fence underwent numerous improvements and we believed we had solved the problem. Yesterday, she sailed over it again, with the aid of thick sagebrush that we believe protected her from the barbed wire. She has made friends with horses across the fence and decided to join them for a little socialization.

“Can I come out and play?” . . . .

Tilly has her nose through the corral poles to greet me in this shot, above. Horses require a great deal of time and attention. We look forward to our visits, and the numerous trips to the barn each day are a good way to get our exercise, too. She spends a few hours out in the pasture each afternoon with her best buddy Abe the longhorn steer (a.k.a. Feed Lot) and they have quite a romp around the place. He has not managed to get over the fence the two times Tilly has escaped, and he has stood forlornly in the corner waiting for her to return.

“Where’s Tilly?” . . . .

A meeting with our neighbor regarding the replacement of the old fence took place once we had Tilly safely home again. We have a plan now, and will share the labor and cost of materials to build a fence that will be safe for their horses and ours. It is a major undertaking and will require removing some trees, downed tree limbs and a little dirt work. In the meantime, we are going to work to patch and repair the old fence as it stands and try to outsmart Tilly the frisky filly.

Fast Forward, May Flowers

Posted on May 29, 2013 by bygeorge

New life along the line . . . .

What a difference a month can make! April snows lasted into early May, but winter has finally given up its grip. Spring has officially arrived and none too soon. The air is redolent with the fragrance of lilacs, cherry, apple, plum, honeysuckle and chokecherry blossoms.

Honeysuckle at homestead house . . . .

Daffodils outdid themselves, and a few tulips managed to bloom after freezing storms and snow beat them back repeatedly. The columbines are bursting with color and the ancient bleeding heart that has traveled with me from two former homes is trying once again to honor me with its dainty pink flowers.

A carpet of white . . . .

Daffodils greet the morning sun . . . .

Blue columbines are glorious . . . .

Granny Clara’s flowers greet us every spring . . . .

More of Clara’s blooms . . . .

May is the month of renewal and promise of new life. The hillsides and pastures are noisy with bleats and bawling of new baby calves and lambs. With a little rain, the grass will grow and life will be good.

Her Roots Are Showing!

Posted on April 24, 2013 by bygeorge

“Don’t mess with this blonde!”

This exotic little White Crested Black Polish chicken is a charmer and becomes a little more gorgeous every day. She is one of two selected for our flock and has been named Marilyn for he dishy blonde crown of feathers. A natural extrovert, this little chick is in to everything and darts around the brooder house like she owns the place. At feeding time she is the first one to step forward. She will eat from my hand, and yesterday I had to physically toss her out of the feed tray so I could close the lid after re-filling it.

“Can’t talk now, time for lunch!”

Sister Phyllis, shown on the left, was not endowed with such a gorgeous mop of blonde feathers. Maybe she’ll catch up along the way, or merely resort to developing her other assets. Who says blondes have more fun?

Birds of Spring

Posted on April 22, 2013 by bygeorge

“Ah, warm water for my bath!” . . . .

This Robin is having a grand time catching a quick bath in the heated water bowl. It’s been a long winter, and chances are there has not been another “warm bath” in recent weeks.

"splish splash, I am taking a bath!" . . . .

“splish splash, taking a bath!” . . . .

This energetic bird will soon drain the bathtub at this rate!

“This is too much fun – think I’ll go for another dip!” . . . .

A recent visitor to the feeder varies from the typical House Finch with red markings that can be seen most of the winter. We identified this little finch (seen below) as a Redpoll, likely a male with his pink breast and bright red cap.

“A skillet filled with vittles!” . . . .

Sparrows are constant companions throughout the winter and greet me every morning from the branches of a pine tree outside the kitchen window.

“Bird brunch!” . . . .

Chickens Little

Posted on April 14, 2013 by bygeorge

“I rule this roost!”

In just two weeks the baby chicks have doubled in size. They are now ready to be relocated, as they have outgrown the rabbit cage and the laundry room has become a feed store cum barnyard where getting any laundry clean is a questionable endeavor. Armed with shovels and broom, we cleaned out the historic brooder house where the geese have been residing over the winter. We had to make a few repairs, and after a thorough cleaning and fresh bag of wood chips, the chicks have a new home. I crossed my fingers as I carried them out of their snug, warm indoor environment yesterday into a much larger space that seemed to dwarf them. They huddled in the corner, chirping frantically and then began to move en masse toward the heat lamp.

“She just thinks she rules this roost!”

“They call me Marilyn . . . you know, that dishy blond?” . . . .

“I’m the shy, quiet type” . . . .

“There is nothing Polish about a name like Phyllis . . . I refuse to be called Phyllis!”

As the chicks grow, they take on personalities. I think the chick above reminds me of Phyllis Diller, and she has a strong, clear chirp that stands out from the rest. She seems to be more aware of her surroundings and quicker to react to a change in circumstances. I have my fingers crossed that all these sweet chicks are pullets, or females. Having a rooster named Phyllis would be too hilarious.

“Gee whiz–imagine that– more snow!” . . . .

After worrying over them all night, wondering if they would be warm enough, we awoke this morning to a fresh 4-6 inches of snow plastered on everything. Good grief, it is April, after all. It is supposed to be spring! We bundled up and headed out the door at 6:00 a.m. to check on the chicks. The geese were bunched up in the snow outside their recently vacated brooder house and protested loudly when we arrived, as if to say, “hey you guys, who locked us out? We could freeze out here!” It seems we planned for everything but the weather. After waiting all winter for snow, it is arriving in April.

April Is The Cruelest Month!

Posted on April 11, 2013 by bygeorge

“Break out the beer and burgers–time to grill!” . . . .

These April showers won’t produce any flowers for awhile. Three days of howling winds, blowing and drifting snow and single-digit temperatures left us longing for the end of winter. Fighting the wind and snow to travel to the barn three times a day, as well as the chicken house and various outbuildings where all the other critters reside left tempers frayed and patience on the wane. Fortunately we suffered no power outages which would have left heat lamps off and water bowls frozen. I suppose in that event we would have had to move everybody inside! I say that jokingly–I cannot imagine any more animals in the house. We let Rosie move in for the duration, and Bleu the cat resides inside year ’round. The baby chicks are thriving in the laundry room but are rapidly outgrowing the rabbit cage. The weather is going to have to change so we can shuffle everybody around a bit!

“Anybody got snowshoes?”

A drift created in front of the door to the goose house made things a little interesting. After being penned in for three days, they were soooooo glad to get outdoors, only to be confronted with a mountain of cold, white stuff. They squawked and flapped about trying to sort out what to do next. They finally made it to high ground where the snow had blown away a bare patch and spent the day circling around in high dudgeon.

“Bird relief port in a storm” . . . .

The bird diner was doing a bang-up business. Our feathered friends huddled in the pine tree nearby and took turns visiting the feeders for a quick bite. Snow piled up near the bay window and framed the view.

“How am I supposed to hunt birds when I can’t see out?” . . . .

Bleu’s favorite bird watching post is obscured by snow piled up outdoors. He waits impatiently, tail twitching back and forth and makes little snarling sounds as if to say, “enough of this already!”

A long, cold walk . . . .and a cold seat waiting . . . .

The Roosevelt is a 1930’s gift from FDR and the Civilian Conservation Corp (CCC). This wintry shot serves as a reminder of how life used to be before indoor plumbing. And we came too close for comfort. Life in the country can get complicated when the septic tank quits functioning and we recently experienced just such an event. Fortunately we made the decision to save the Roosevelt. But that’s another story.

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