The In-between Month

One of Margaret Atwood's characters in The Robber Bride described November as the "in between month". It's really true. I don't think there's a corollary in the spring, but November really straddles Fall and Winter in spite of what meteorologists will tell you.

First the indoor report. My father used to say that winter was for the Indoor Sports. And yes. That's what he meant. But to the left is the poinsettia phoenix. A friend left two poinsettias with me when she left for travel. I kept them going until they were tired, cut them back to stems, and cared for them when they were pretty grim to look at. Patience paid, as it should. And I knew that they are perennials, so I was hopeful. The short days of fall are inspiring flower bud development, first as bracts. How lovely. I'm hopeful that I'll have them for years now.

But the real news is still the outdoor sports. Our first freeze was the night before last, but the raspberries soldiered on to give us these last berries. Delicious, though soft from the freeze, so I harvested them and popped them in the freezer with the other raspberries that I'll soon make into a bright grab-you-by-the-lapels flavored jam. Yes.

I also harvested all of the carrots. I had read that you can leave them in the ground all winter, but I wasn't so sure, so up they came. Six pounds worth. Carrot soup is going to happen Very Soon. Freeze. Eat on a winter night when you have no inspiration for dinner. Again, Yes. I love that all of this food comes from such small plots. Small inputs with a lot of Paying Attention yields lovely results. And I love that these carrots so lack uniformity. Fat, thin, large, small. This is somewhat due to my poor thinning. Not thinning enough isn't due to lack of attention, of course. It's due to lack of desire to play God with carrots. John eventually went out and did the job properly, or we would have had all tiny roots. Thank goodness for sensible people.

Here's the thing though. I am So Grateful for our food system. If I had to grow all of our carrots for the year, I would no doubt starve. I love growing my own, but it only increases my appreciation for folks who grow food for a living.

Lastly, I made a video of the yard yesterday. It's too big to insert here, so you can click on the link below. Be sure to get to the end. It shows our beautiful Copper Beech putting on her Autumnal show.

https://youtu.be/hvUgWo7iito

A Brief note and an image

John turned 65 this past week, and we hiked close to Harpswell and had a picnic on Sunday. Maine skies.

Autumn progresses, with the Ashes and the Maples showing their colors. Kale is still abundant, raspberries hanging in, and carrots patiently waiting for the threat of the first freeze. Everything else is also suspended in the beautiful weather. Winter is coming.
 

Autumn progresses. . .

Fall in the woods

The weather has been perfect, but Autumn is definitely here, and planning for winter looms large in our household.

The image to the left was taken by John. I was going to start by talking about the apples, but he always gets these fantastic shots, and they deserve airing!

He really does take some wonderful images. The one below is actually the lake through the trees, but it's hard to tell where the reflection and reality begin and end.

These are, of course, THE LARGE .
 

Fall reflections

Some of his smaller images are equally engaging. Here are a couple take on a foggy hike with Jasper.

Dewey silk

Yellow with embellishments

Meanwhile, back in the garden, the apples have just been harvested. All of them. I borrowed a Foley food mill from a neighbor (one of the items I may regret selling in the great estate sale), and canned 17 pints of McIntosh apple sauce and a pie. I'm pretty sure it's the best pie I've ever made. And such food security!

Next came our bigger apples, which the nursery who planted them thought were Macoun. Very large apples, and the tree is defoliating sooner than I would like. Still, the flavor was unbelievable. I'm drying most of those. Another item that I had sold was my apple corer/peeler. It's a very ingenious little crank device. When we sold all of our stuff, I thought I was done with canning and large acreages and all of that stuff. Clearly I was wrong. A couple of missteps are ok, though. Now I know that growing food and saving it are part of my DNA. . .what a friend used to call my "core self". Good to know.

Food for friends

Half-harvested

The first batch of sauce

While the focus is certainly on apples, for the sheer amount of work they require, I also continue to have an abundance of kale. And carrots are still in the ground, growing growing, hoping that we'll rescue them before they freeze. No worries. 

Giving away fresh food is always a great option, too, so hiking friends took away bags of kale and apples this week.

Food for friends

I've often wondered if I'm not so intent on my no-waste policy, and preserving food because I starved in a previous life. It doesn't take a lot of reflection to realize that if we do live many lives, that most of us probably starved in some past life, since food has always been a security issue. I can't imagine having to plan and pray to whatever God, and worry about whether there would be food in the next season. The next day, the next week, the next month. Summer must have been a terrific relief for earlier peoples. I do wonder, though, if we won't face food shortages everywhere with the coming climate-related disasters that folks are facing all over the world. We have them periodically here, too, but we have so much abundance and redundant systems, that it will be a while before we face that. I think. 

Last minute effort. Thank you!

One last image. Remember the eggplant bushes that are so large and beautiful? Well. Look who we spotted the other day. She may we provide us with a bit of food after all. Next year, the plants will be started inside.

The State of the Garden Message

Hurricane Will came barrelling through a little more than a week ago, and he spared us. Lots of leaves and needles down, but little rain, and just enough wind to scare us. We lost power for a couple of hours, but the backup system kicked in, and we hardly felt it. As always, it's the Not Knowing that is tough. Two hours, though, was easy peasy.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Dawn Redwood (Metasequoia glyptostroboides, and yes, I'm showing off) planted this spring is so sweet I almost can't stand it. She's already starting to sport her Christmas-tree shape, and the growth on her was incredible. We had so much rain and humid weather that at one point I saw some browning needles on her, and was worried that some opportunistic fungi was going to get serious. But it never did, and she's going into the winter in fine shape.

The Little Leaf Linden(Tilia cordata), planted at the same time, had a rougher time due to some Japanese beetles mistaking her for lunch.  They were dispensed with, but I felt badly that I wasn't paying enough attention to her.

The Columnar Plum, fall-planted just a year ago, also did well with the wet cool summer. Phew. I need to figure out to support her before the serious snows come, and do a little pruning, but she's going to be wonderful in that corner.

And the last tree to report on is a new one, a Stanley (European) Plum. I had ordered it last summer when we lost one of our peach trees; a sad but not unexpected event, especially when we found that a plastic container on it's root ball that had the sign "remove before planting" hadn't been. The plum came from Forest Farm nursery, where most of my other trees have originated. It's a long way to ship, but they do such a great job. While I love our more local nursery (Fieldstone Gardens), they haven't had the specific trees I need.

Anyway. Forest Farm emailed me to say that the tree they were sending me had lost all of her leaves prematurely due to the heavy smoke in their area. After some back and forth, I decided to take shipment on it anyway. Nothing beats a failure like a try, and they will refund my $'s if she's doesn't make it through the winter in good health.

Planting conditions were perfect. . .not too warm and overcast, and the soil is in good shape. As usual, we (the royal we, since my bone issues are preventing me from doing this sort of labor) dug a very large hole, and replaced half of the soil with peat moss. Still well, and drop her in. Yay. Her buds look a little desiccated, so I sent images to the nursery, and now all we can do is wait. And of course give her a legging to avoid southwest injury.

Other food-related horticultural things:

The raspberries (only 2 years old) are still giving me about a handful every other day. I had reservations about the cultivar, Joan J., but I am relieved of those now! The flavor is really wonderful, as well; which was not true of the spring crop.

 

We had a very nice potato crop. Also unexpected, because I had envisioned them rotting in the ground with all of the rain we had. Cultivar was Red Pontiac (a car I wish I had owned in the 60's). The carrots are still out there. I didn't thin them enough early in the season, so my noble consort went out and re-thinned them a week ago. We ate the diminutive roots (tasty), and are hoping that the leftovers have a chance to fill in their newfound space.

Kale still reigns supreme. Amazing stuff. The Japanese beetles had a go at it as well, and clearly preferred the smoother leaves to the very curly ones. Wish I could remember the cultivar names now, but most of you know I'm of an age.

The green bush beans are still sitting in back of the kale, but their little offerings are just about over. Nice to add them to a stir-fry or pizza when we have them.

And that's the state of the garden. Winterizing is starting (concrete sealing, check!), and we continue to love this place on earth.

Mushrooms abound. . .

The abundance of rain has brought with it an abundance of mushroom species. . .many unknown to me. When I look up "mushroom that looks like a sponge", I'm rewarded with the following Wikipedia entry:

The genus Ramaria comprises approximately 200 species of coral fungi.^[1] Several, such as Ramaria flava, are edible and picked in Europe, though they are easily confused with several mildly poisonous species capable of causing nausea, vomiting, and diarrhea; these include R. formosa and R. pallida. Three Ramaria species have been demonstrated to contain a very unusual organoarsenic compound homoarsenocholine.

It is really abundant in our woods around the house, though I haven't seen it in previous years. Here's Wikipedia's image:

We weren't planning on eating it, so it's all good. 

We also have this beauty growing on a stump in our yard. My mycology friend says it's a Jack-o-lantern mushroom, and is quite poisonous. One of these days I'll learn about all of the mushrooms that abound in Maine, though it might be a bad idea given my increasingly poor memory.

When closely examined, one can see that something. . . a squirrel? . . . has been chewing on it. When I expressed concern for the squirrel's well being, my friend assured me that what's poisonous to people isn't necessarily poisonous to other mammals.

This, of course, surprises me, but then squirrels likely evolved eating all sort of things that we don't really consider food. Acorns, for example? Still. Since we use rats as the model for toxicity in drugs and pesticides, it still surprises me.
 

The not-so-good news I got this past week is that I may not be able to eat tomatoes any more. It's killing me, but then the pain from my arthritis is just about killing me too. Funny thing how memory works. I remembered a pomology professor from University of Maryland telling me that he didn't eat any plants in the Night Shade family (Solanaceae), because it made his arthritis much worse. I thought he was older than God at the time, but I think he might have been younger than I am now. This memory came back to me as I am enjoying a lovely tomato harvest. Oh my. So, I got an idea. I'd test it on myself. I started by eating about a pound of ripe cherry tomatoes. They are like candy. . .Sweet 100 is the cultivar. . .and wow. They were delicious. That night, when the arthritis pain is always at it's height, I was in agony. No sleep. Deep deep pain in my bones. . . mostly back and joints. I've been Night Shade free for almost 10 days now, and the pain has definitely lessened. Not completely receded, but I can sleep through it, and distract myself from it during the day.

What a thing. And the tomatoes just keep coming. I'm giving them away right and left, and while John still eats them, he has never had my passion for them. I may make some sauce just in case I can't repeat the experiment, but mostly I'm giving them away. 

We really do have things taken from us, one after the other, as we age. I know that I'm lucky that it's no more than tomatoes, or energy, or the ability to sit comfortably anywhere, but it still stings.

We leave for a trip to see friends in Massachusetts in a couple of days. I'll bring a bunch of homegrowns: kale, herbs, jam, and of course, tomatoes.

There is a lot of controversy on this subject, it turns out. Another pomologist with whom I was acquainted (and was the president of our professional society, The American Society for Horticultural Science) published a book on it, and because quite an evangelist on the topic. He, too, had suffered as my professor had. This is at least 40 years ago now. WebMD reports that while there is extensive anecdotal evidence that the nightshade family causes flareups of osteo arthritis, there has been no definitive study to support it. We need to start delivering medicine for the individual, not for the average. 

I'll close with a smile. Best. Dog. Ever.

 

Yes, we have no more tomatoes?

I harvested tomatoes on the orange side yesterday, in anticipation of rain today. I'm glad I did. It is seriously raining. So far, .6 inches, but the forecast is predicting it for the next couple of days. That's been the story of this summer. Cool and rainy days followed by 2-5 days of perfect Maine summer weather. Lather, rinse, repeat. 

I AM grateful that we have escaped the hot horrible weather that much of the world has experienced this summer. Truly I am. But I have to say that it will be a disappointment if This Is It. As good as it gets. Well, ok. It's pretty good. Some homegrown tomatoes can't be bad. Even if they're cut off in their youth. And! It's really too soon to tell. Even the drier forecast later in the week isn't going to get above the 70's, though, and tomatoes do like their heat. . .

I had just decided that the eggplant plants were worth having, even if they didn't produce. They are handsome things. And wouldn't you know. . .as soon as I had given them reprieve for their sterility, they are forming fruit. I don't know how I missed the flowers, though it could have been in all of the rain. And many of our fruiting plants (tomatoes, peppers, raspberries, especially beans) like to hide their babies. Probably a sound evolutionary strategy.

Such pretty things, aren't they? With their personal ornamentation of black spines. . .

Meanwhile, my "all hat" zucchini plants are succumbing to powdery mildew. Mine have always had that issue at the end of the season, but these poor guys barely had a chance to show off. I'm thinking I have to get more serious about eating the blossoms, which are ever large and gorgeous. I need to look up why they didn't set. It could have been that there weren't many female flowers? That doesn't really make sense, though. More like the pollinators were less than ambitious because of the cool wet weather.

The apples are coming along, and the Japanese beetles have been seriously discouraged by the weather. Ripening will likely be a couple of weeks late, I think, but that blush of red stripes is reassuring. 

Then, of course, there is the studio production. G.S.'s final pieces are glazed, fired, and winging their way to Texas. I hope he likes them! I also sent a couple of surprises for the other two Grand Children (G.C.'s), since they didn't get to visit this year. I forged copper hooks for the ornaments, reminding me that even though I'm an amateur at clay, I'm a decent metalsmith. 

And of course, my last piece that I made with G.S. was also a box. I think I'm going to start a series of boxes, inspired by the experience.

I still have a couple of tumblers outstanding, and then there is the birdhouse series. I have questioned myself about the functionality of ceramic birdhouses, since my carefully made chickadee house doesn't yet have any occupants, though the squirrels have shown some casual curiosity. I may continue that line with some fairy houses, which always seem to get occupants, invisible as they may be.  

Tomato, tomahto, zucchini

Tomato plants in mid-August

Somewhat predictably, the tomato plants are looking a little scraggly. A technical term only some of you will understand. Smile. However, we got a decent harvest this weekend. . .the cherry tomatoes coming in more abundantly than our Early Girls. We are getting terrific sun today, and it's expected to continue through next Friday, so we should get some good ripening and drying weather.

Food. Love this stuff. . .

Oh, and yes. There are a couple of redskin potatoes in the bottom of the bowl. A couple of our potato plants were beaten down by the rain, so G.S. and I were forced to harvest them a little early. Tasty, but not maximally tasty. I'm looking forward to the real harvest in the fall.

Zucchini plants and flowers

In contrast to the tomatoes, the zucchini plants are lush and gorgeous. They are proving to be mostly hat and little cow, though. We've only gotten 3 medium sized zucchini from these 2 enormous plants so far. One of my daughters said that I had finally managed to plant the right number of plants, after all of these years of over-abundance. I'm not convinced, but will see what the rest of the season holds. It is, I should point out, hardly over. It's only mid-August, but it's been such a strange summer for us. And the powdery mildew on those lower leaves is ominous.

The eggplant I seeded in mid-May is also looking great insofar as leaves are concerned. But we need to get some flowers soon or they'll be strictly ornamental. Not terrible, since they are attractive plants, but note to self: Plant these indoors in March, rather than waiting to direct seed!

Direct seeded Eggplant plants

The most exciting news, though is from the raspberries that I planted just last year. I was not impressed with what I thought was a slow start, but they have really taken off. I let the fall-bearers bear in the spring this year (not cutting them back to the ground in winter) because I thought it unlikely that the fall crop would amount to much this year. I was wrong. We've got a strong fall crop coming along, which is also bring a ton of bees. . .bumble and honey!

 

 

Below is our view from our bathroom window. I went out this morning with my cereal bowl, and picked about a dozen to eat immediately. Yum. How could I ever leave this place now?

Raspberries

OK. Not a great shot, but you can see the green developing fruit. Getting this much in the second year portents great things for subsequent years! Now. If I can just stop having body parts give up on me. . .

Lastly, I wanted to post an image of my G.S.'s ceramic box (and my own and a bowl) in the kiln, awaiting it's first firing. It's amazing how things move forward, if you just keep pushing. Even a little.

Ready to get HOT!

Boxes and homegrown tomatoes. . .

Well. The Grand Son (GS) is back in Texas, about to start school. But we spent some time in the studio before he left, and these were our last projects. Bear with me. They're still greenware (unfired), and mine is darker because it's wetter. GS chose to have a set-on lid, while I decided to make mine into a solid cube and then cut it. Different strokes. GS had actually made a triangular stamp (that had to be bisque fired before using) that is on the lid. It has his initials in it. I, as usual, chose a more botanical theme. 

Making stamps is way fun. We also made some from plant and rock and mulch material that we just gathered from the yard. . .a door from my studio takes us right out there. More on these after they get glazed and finished.

In the meantime, the tomatoes are starting to get serious. They are WAY late this year. The summer has been cool and rainy. I'm sure this is because we installed a COMPLETE drip irrigation system this spring. We haven't needed it once!

Back to homegrown tomatoes. A friend of ours introduced us to Guy Clark and his song, Homegrown tomatoes. There ain't nothin' that money can't buy except true love and homegrown tomatoes. Here's a Youtube for your entertainment pleasure. . . 

Guy Clark Homegrown Tomatoes

 Well. I'll take some images of our tomatoes soon. But in the meantime, I found a bunch of images I meant to share. Some are from MUCH earlier:

We had some awesome peonies this year. . .just Sarah Bernhart cultivar, but I love them so much. Unfortunately the rains of the season just beat them down. I cut them and brought them inside to EXTEND their lives, which is almost never the case. Fortunately, the foliage still looks good, so we should have another good showing next year.

And for the record, I am so grateful for our cool rainy summer. The rest of the country has faced broiling terrible heat, and here we are, cool as cucumbers. One of our neighbors told me that she had patients who told her that in some summers, her "bones never had a chance to get warm". I think this might be one of those summers, though we still have more summer ahead of us. We'll see.

I also had a series of disastrous tumblers. Some worked out well (see previous post), but my two favorites had unseen leaks. I had no idea until I filled them with water that they weren't water tight. It's a unique problem in my experience. They were all made from the same clay (except for the porcelain one), made and fired the same way. It was one of those heartbreaking moments in a functional artist's life.

These were the two that leaked. My very favorites, one for my consort, one for me. Sigh.

 

A more successful venture was the dog dish I made for our retiring Border Collie. Pretty sweet. In clay, as in all things, you bake some and  you burn some. More later! 

 

It's just getting silly. . .

 

. . .and so the summer flies by. John and I used to joke that by July 4th, the summer was over. When we worked in academia that was just about true, but it still feels that way sometimes. This is an image that John captured. It's a day lily in front of our garage. The cool summer with tons of rain has brought so many gifts. And some not-so-welcome ones, like a great crop of Japanese Beetles. The little buggers love any Rosaceous crops, so I'm on constant guard with the apples and raspberries. They also have a particular liking for Linden trees. Mine is too small right now to take much abuse, so I've been controlling them on her assiduously. Oh. And oddly, they love one of the cultivars of kale that I'm growing, while they leave the other (the very curly type) alone.

Well. I'm hoping to get back to a more even writing schedule, but need to address my email inbox. After a week in a cabin-on-a-lake, and a week with our oldest Grand Son, it's a mess! More later!