first fruits

I haven't planted summer squash for ages, but with a new garden spot added this year, there was room for a couple of plants. This is the very first squash, harvested yesterday. Isn't it beautiful?

Do any of you gardeners have trouble actually picking and eating your perfect, beautiful vegetables?

Asking for a friend.

cold lunch

The basic: cellentani/cavatappi, mayonnaise, feta, relish.

Excellent hot-weather lunch. Also supper. Sometimes also breakfast.

Yesterday was a pleasant day weather-wise and I was able to spend the whole afternoon outdoors for the first time in weeks. Maybe not the smartest choice considering the ongoing air quality warnings due to smoke from the northern wildfires, but it just felt so good to be outside.

Sometimes with sweet corn.

Thank you all for your ideas about the raccoons, and I am sorry to hear there are so many kinds of critters making free with our gardens. My favorite solution was the rubber snakes, and "buy snakes" is now on my list. I also checked my spices box for red pepper but only found a little tin of smoked paprika from Portugal. However, I did find lots of coriander and sprinkled it liberally around the garden fence and the bean rows. I never cook with coriander, so it was worth sacrificing it to an experiment. The mystery is why I had not one but three jars of a seasoning I never, ever use.

Occasionally with avocado!

The family of raccoons has since appeared about the place in early morning and early evening, trundling along in single file with the tiny youngster bringing up the rear. They are either living very close by, or under one of my outbuildings. I'm afraid it's the latter, because I've noticed most of the goats haven't been escaping the heat and biting bugs by tucking themselves into the cooler, darker space beneath the shelters as they usually do.

Or mushrooms.

I've been tearing the house and workshop apart looking for my sprayer bottle that attaches to a garden hose and dilutes a liquid (usually fertilizer or pest spray) as you water. I bought it ages ago and have never needed to use it, and now that it is needed, it seems to have disappeared. If I buy another we all know how that will turn out, so the search goes frustratingly on. My plan is to spray a mist of diluted wine (stay with me) under the shelters and barn and around the workshop. Because: one raccoon recommendation was using a vinegar spray. Gathering dust in my tiny kitchen is a rack of wine bottles looking for a job. I haven't bought - or drunk - wine in many years now, so my thought is that most of those bottles probably now contain vinegar. It would be very satisfying to put them to good use. Just need to find that sprayer bottle!

~~~~~

planting beans

 

    This morning I planted beans again.

This is the third time.

The same beans.

Not the same *type* of bean.

The same actual beans.

Raccoons are not my friends.

After finding bean plants uprooted, scattered, and buried under dug-up soil a week ago, I hastily replanted them. The poor beans rallied and continued to grow, which was remarkable considering their ordeal.

This morning I found the same rows dug up again.

Disheartening, to say the least.

Again I replanted any intact plants I could find.

I'll keep watering and hope for the best.

But I need to better protect the garden from varmints.

(Yes, I said varmints. Strong word, I know, but this destructive behavior is unacceptable. Raccoons have plenty to eat without digging up my beans in search of worms, or whatever the heck they are doing.)

Earlier this season I experimented with planting hills of beans instead of rows.

This is the tidy garden the day I planted the seeds:

And this is the same garden the very next morning.

The three hills and a row of cucumber seeds.

Excavated.

Faced with such devastation, Moxie and I had to have a little sit-down.

The main thing needed: a fence around the new garden area.

Done. 

But since putting up the fence, rows of bean plants have been churned up twice.

Does anyone have a tried-and-true method for keeping raccoons out of a fenced garden? Burying the fence a foot deep isn't an option here. I tried scattering cinnamon sticks along the fence and even along the bean rows. 

For a few days, all was well.

Until this morning.

~~~~~

open

The first thing I did this morning, after opening the door for the cats to go out, was open windows throughout the house. Because at 530 AM it was cooler outside than in, for the first time in many days.

It was also raining, and I got absolutely soaked doing chores. I usually do come in dripping these days, but this time it was mostly rainwater instead of sweat, so it was sort of enjoyable.

A package had been "delivered" roadside last night, so before starting goat chores I trundled down with my little cart to fetch it up before the wet cardboard got any wetter. 

So I got to see this:

 This daylily is my favorite, and has survived the rigors of the bank garden by the lower driveway for many years. For at least five years now (maybe ten) I've thought it needs to be dug up, separated into multiple plants, and planted in more locations. For it's own good. The only thing holding me back is a fear of killing it.

But now it is being crowded beyond what I can change in it's present location, and challenged by the increasing shade of a growing tree. This will be the year. 

Wish me luck. Send advice.

~~~~~

climate control

Vincent 1885

We're having unpleasant weather here in north-central Massachusetts. Sweating begins the moment you step out the door. All the goats are spending most of their time being still.

The heat is uncomfortable but with the added humidity it is stultifying. Livestock and gardening chores are best finished early, because even the morning air feels like breathing through a warm, wet flannel. The cats and I are usually outside by 5:30 or 6, and any tasks not finished before ten will probably have to wait til evening.   

Moxie and Della usually make their own schedules, although the bear has curtailed evening activity and the cats now miss the prime mouse-hunting hours of dusk to bedtime. But they are still out and in a few times throughout the day, as am I. Usually. Yesterday afternoon when the temperature was 93 in the shade, we had a debate about whether cats should sometimes be required to stay indoors where at least one room is cooler and breathable, thanks to the combined efforts of a floor fan, a dehumidifier, an air cleaner, and intermittent air conditioning. Despite all this relative comfort, Moxie and Della both wanted to be out. I won the debate, but only because they can't reach the doorknob.

I hope wherever you are the temperature is comfortable and the air is clear.

~~~~~

ten

Moxie and Della are ten.

Don't they look great?

But seriously, how did that happen?

~~~~~

still with the markmaking

Daily Markmaking is now in year nine. Can you believe it? I had to check it twice.

Yesterday was #3048: this very small section of a very large red oak (Quercus rubra).

We are at the tipping point of leafing out. In a matter of days, the view I've been enjoying for months - the complex structure of tree branches of many species and growth stages - will disappear in a sea of leaves, and I will spend months enjoying that view. The transition is always such a special time.

At the moment we are in what I think of as the pointillistic phase.

~~~~~

spring

First things first:

the bloodroot is blooming.

For me, this marks the turning point into Spring.

We may still have freezes and snow and ice,

but there is no turning back.

It is now Spring.

In point of fact, we have had more than one day in the past week

when the temperature has suddenly rocketed into the 80s.

In the shade.

It has not been pleasant for any of us.

Today is wet, drizzly, gloomy, and cool.

Lovely April day in New England.

After chores this morning,

we all just snugged in for a cozy, lazy day.

But first, knowing that Moxie and Della would be mostly indoors,

I brought out the Good Stuff.

I well remember harvesting this with Moxie.

In other news, we've been having visits from a bear.

This is not as much fun as it may sound.

A friend gave me a heads-up on the 7th that a bear had killed two goats and destroyed three chicken coops not far north of my place. Thinking the bear was likely to be moving south through the woods and wetlands behind my property, I stayed up all night watching the barncams. My clothes and tools were lined up at the back door so I could be dressed and out in moments.

A little after 3 AM, the bear was here. Inside the perimeter fence and also inside the paddock fence just behind the barn. A little paddock with two does in it. I dashed out and opened the gates in the little barn paddocks so goats would not be trapped, then banged my mop against anything that would make a loud noise. I didn't see which way the bear went, so I walked the paddocks for two hours until nearly daybreak. When I came inside, it started to snow.

The next night, I stayed up again, watching the cameras. The bear waited til nearly 4 AM. I didn't see it, but thanks to the goatcams, I saw the goats see it. Out. More banging and walking. If the morning's snow had lasted more than a few hours, I probably could have tracked it.

Dara pointing out what the bear did to one of several stock panels.
Rude, isn't it, Dara?
A bear coming along and bending steel panels like they're made of straw.

The next night, the 9th, I was feeling a bit light-headed and wondering if I could risk getting a little early sleep and then watching the cameras from midnight to morning. I had just gotten into bed about 9PM, and was adjusting all the camera settings when one of the four camera screens, the one nearest the house, was suddenly filled with Bear.

Shoes, a walking stick, and a flashlight, and out the back door in time to send the bear, which was right there at the portico, back over the perimeter fence and into the woods behind my property. I was roaring and banging my stick and it was quite a relief in a way to be able to yell at the actual source of anxiety and sleeplessness and worry. I walked the paddocks again, and because it was so early, knew I'd be watching and probably doing more walking and banging during the wee hours. Which was the case. As it turned out, I learned the next day that the bear had gone a few houses down the road and destroyed another flock of chickens.

This is a bad situation.

Every night since I've been out at least once, walking and banging and talking to the goats. 

There have been so many sleepless nights now that we are all trying to nap a bit during the day.

Some of us are better at it than others.

Yesterday I added a new component to my goat defense:

a set of "driveway alert" sensors. This is something a friend has done at her barn, where she had a lot of trouble with a bear last year. The battery-powered motion sensors relay a signal to a plug-in receiver with speaker, which is typically kept in a house to alert the homeowner to visitors, wanted or otherwise.

(Just search for "owl driveway sensors" if interested in these.)

 In my case, the sensors are being tested in areas between my perimeter fence and the barnyard, and receiver is in the open doorway of the barn. Instead of the speaker announcing "Driveway" or "Garage" or playing a jolly tune or siren, it provides the sound of a barking dog. My hope is that the sensors will catch the movement of a bear before it gets to the paddocks and the barking from the barn will scare it off or at least slow it down long enough for me to get out there.

And maybe I could sleep between alarms instead of staring at cameras literally all night.

Here's hoping.

Unrelated: an update on the moving target jaw pain. The morning of the 10th (yes, hours after running off the bear and after the third night of no sleep at all) I hired a kind helper to drive me back to the oral surgery where the surgeon, possibly realizing I was never going to stop calling and describing more/different pain and begging for help, agreed to fit me in and extract a tooth before starting his day's scheduled appointments. I was honestly not sure how much of the overall problem was related to this tooth, but I did feel it was a contributing factor and the pain was so severe I was quite desperate to take action. Upshot: molar extracted. Several new bottles of prescriptions on the nightstand and a complex medication schedule to be followed.

Beginning the very next day, I had the closest thing to a pain-free day since early February. As far as the long-term situation goes, I'm assuming nothing, and I'll still need to see a regular dentist. But right now I'm healing up and taking each pain-free hour as the gift it truly is.

It truly, truly is.

And I'm eating.

Carefully.

And on we go.

Spring!

(and I just looked up from the screen to see that it's snowing)

~~~~~

marking the day

 

Wishing a very Happy Easter to all who celebrate it.

~~~~~

cooking with words

Cooking day yesterday.
Part 1: my favorite rice/lentil/quinoa blend.

The temps have been dropped into the teens and 20s F again, interspersed with occasional 40s-50s. The intermittent cold at first slowed the accumulation of mud, but the rains we've been having - did I mention the many days of rain? - are having an effect. On the 24th my neighbor had some time so we spent 6 solid hours burning brush from the tree work he did for me last December. Someday I will write about all the tree work that's been done here over the past year. I've photographed it, I've spent many hours processing it (both in the sense of working up the stove wood and in terms of walking amongst ghosts every day), but I haven't been able to put it into words.

Part 2: cavatappi w spritz of olive oil.

Words have been elusive in general lately, and I apologize for not thanking each of you for your kind comments and messages after my most recent post. I haven't had a day without jaw pain since early February, and it's been bad enough that when the dentist disappeared for a week, I asked my MD for pain medication, which I almost never take even when a doctor advises it. This time? I'm more or less begging for prednisone, which is the only thing that has given me even periodic relief. Two days ago I saw an oral surgeon for a diagnosis, and after a panoramic x-ray (which I heartily recommend as an alternative to the traditional stabby-slides-poked-into-soft-tissue dental x-ray) and a thorough prodding of my teeth, jaw, and what felt like the inner recesses of my brain, he said he could see nothing about my teeth causing the trouble, but my right TMJ appears to be jammed up (I paraphrase) and I should get a mouth guard from my dentist and wear it for a month to see if that will release the TMJ and make life better again.

I'm still waiting for a callback from my dentist while my little supply of prednisone shrinks. A callback, hopefully an appointment and mouthguard ASAP, and let the unjamming begin please. When this is over, it may be time to find another dentist. I had hoped to stay with this one but his availability and the office's efficiency at returning calls has been less than ideal. I keep getting email requests to leave online reviews for the office, and every time I think, "But are you sure I'm still alive? And do you really want me to leave a review right now?"

Part 3: tortellini soup.

Enough about all that. I have always avoided writing much about health challenges on the blog, just as I avoid talking about it in real life, because my pain/fatigue issues are chronic and nobody needs to be bored by that, including me. Living it is enough. Living is enough.

But the occasional jolt of Something Extra in the Pain Department, like this jaw mystery, or the shoulder dislocation in 2024, is different. It's a temporary (touch wood) overlay affecting daily life in a way that means I apparently have to write about it a bit, or not write anything at all. So there it was, and I'll probably write a little bit more when there is progress.

I say all this now to assure readers - and myself - that this blog will not become my personal Organ Recital.

And thank you.

Part 4: eggbites.
I always try to cook 2 or 3 things in sequence 
 when I use the multicooker, but 4 things is 
a new record. Freezer stocked, fridge full.
Cook smug.
Huzzah!

~~~~~

fluctuation

 

Today I saw the slightest hint of a yellow tone on some of the goldfinches at the feeder. Last night I smashed through a thick layer of ice in the goat troughs before plugging the de-icers in again after a few above-freezing days off.  Yesterday I saw Violet moving quietly from tree to tree, standing for extended periods with all four feet in the little arc of snowless ground at the base of each tree. One morning last week the air smelled - to borrow the perfect terminology of e.e.cummings, "mud-luscious." That night we got more snow.

It's the season of variability. Fluctuations daily. Sometimes hourly.

I've been dealing with a dental/jaw problem since January, or possibly since October, if the jaw pain is connected to audiological issues rather than dental. Hard to say. Also hard to live with, so I've been trying to get it resolved through a series of dental appointments. Right now I'm waiting for a callback from the dentist. For the past couple of weeks the pain has made it difficult to even think straight. Example: this very simple post was started yesterday, and it's taken 24 hours to finish.

On the other and unrelated hand, yesterday I got hooves trimmed on three goats instead of the one I had planned, and now that it's pouring rain I plan to coast on that achievement and trim no hooves at all today. Hah.

I hope all is well with you wherever you are, and that all your hoof-trimming is up to date. It's a good feeling.

~~~~~

all a-dazzle

On the way in from chores this morning.

It snowed heavily all afternoon and evening yesterday.

I had an eye appointment at 4 PM for an in-office glaucoma procedure called selective laser trabeculoplasty (SLT), and since I very much wish to retain my vision - and the volunteer driver was not at all worried about the driving conditions - I went ahead with the appointment.

 

During that ride I thought about all the years I travelled to Cambridge and back, working on my Master's degree and teaching sections in the evenings. It was 75 minutes each way on a clear day with no traffic. During those years I drove through countless storms - one semester I know it snowed nearly every Wednesday evening, because that was a teaching night for me and I drove through every one of those storms. Now being a passenger on a 10-minute drive to an eye appointment had me gripping an armrest and trying to speak normally to the driver who was not at all concerned about the inches of snow over slush on the roads, cars sliding sideways, and poor visibility. Maybe it's a matter of one's current "normal"? Regular commuters have probably been slipsliding through a lot of weather this year.

This is not a barncam image, it's me in the barn with Mallow and Violet.

Campion, Azalea, and Lily are beyond the fence.

We are all contemplating our options.

The laser procedure itself was painless; now just a few days of eyedrops and waiting for the blurring to diminish. The doctor has been tracking pressure in my eyes for several years and always decided it was "borderline" for glaucoma, so we decided against lifelong daily medication (eyedrops) until there was greater concern. However, during my 6-month post-cataract surgery checkup last week he saw a change and gave me the option of - right now! - either going on lifelong drops or having the SLT procedure first, which may turn out to be all I need. Now we go back to tracking.

Meanwhile, on this sunny Wednesday morning we've got several more inches of snow to wade through,  and a forecast for temps in the low 40s (!) this afternoon. Cannot imagine what it will look like here in the hours and days ahead, but at the moment the entire world is coated with ice and the sun is shining and I'm enjoying the view.

~~~~~

on we march

 

A view looking east from the bottom of the driveway.

Checking the mail and taking a few wintery snaps.

I don't bother to check the mail every day. Like my email, most of my regular mail falls into two categories: either asking me for money (suggesting donations or home improvement projects), or offering me money. The "offers" are usually banks suggesting I acquire debt for a "deserved" holiday trip, or strangers wanting to buy my home "for cash"). Not worth a penguin-walk down to road and back.

The forecast last week included one day in the 30s, so I took a few snaps of icicles before they disappeared. These were taken from inside the house, through a row of south-facing windows. Walk along with me, won't you?

Back to the driveway, halfway up and looking southeast toward the house. Much of that snowload slid off the roof yesterday. This time I heard it. I don't know if you can see (click to embiggen?) the overhanging ice dam that had shaded the north windows in the kitchen, but it is now on the ground, and the kitchen is noticeably brighter.

With the warmer hours, the snow on the ground has gotten heavier and wetter. The paths that have been packed down by daily use over several weeks now only appear "packed down" because at random moments my boots go right through the surface into the soggy snow beneath and I'm suddenly over my knees again. I don't enjoy this type of thing; it's a jolt through the spine every time, and it makes keeping one's balance quite tricky. One morning I dropped every single flake of hay I was carrying to the various shelters. There was some unfortunate language that day. But when I'm not actually in the process of tipping over or dropping feed, I focus on how lucky we've been with the weeks of dry powder and the infrequent high winds. There's no denying that it's been a challenging Winter so far, but it could have been So Much Worse.

And now it's Sunday. 

As soon as I post this it will be time for a round of chores.

Then checking my Seed Inventory for the gardens of 2026.

And it's snowing again.

~~~~~

back to the weather

 

I didn't have my first fire until mid-January this year. Later than usual, because I was trying to replace the tiles under the stove and also raise the entire stove to reduce the degree of leaning required to feed the fire several times throughout the day and night. My best attempts to make that project happen were unsuccessful, and when we had several very cold nights in a row and the parlor floor felt cold even through my shoes, it seemed like a good idea to have a fire since the parlor is directly over the little cellar which houses the water pump and other key plumbing elements. So I shelved the plans for the stove area until later this year, made the first fire, and have kept it fed every minute since.

Until last Monday, when it was quite warm out - nearly 30F - and I took the opportunity to let the fire burn out so I could clean the ash layer from the stove and start again. So there was no fire for a few hours, but then a fire again and ever since.

 We have had a few days when the peak temperature reached the mid-twenties to 30F, resulting in some shifting on the substantial ice dams on the house roof. The above snap was taken after morning chores, and when I went back out for afternoon chores, that entire section was on the ground. I wish I had seen and heard it slide and drop, but even though I was in the house and right under that roof, I neither heard nor saw it. Oh well, there's plenty more to come.

So much snow. This snap was taken January 29th:

And this one on February 20th:

Even though some of the snow has softened and settled, it's still up to my kneecaps.

And this was yesterday afternoon:

It snowed all afternoon, all evening, and all night.

We had several fresh inches this morning, and this time it was wet and heavy.

I know this because I re-shoveled the path connecting the portico to the top of the driveway.

Shoveling is not my strong suit, but I was expecting guests and did not want

anyone to have to wade through the previous path which had filled in quite a bit.

Apparently, we are to expect another snowstorm tomorrow. All day tomorrow.

Like Mr. Mallow, I will be trying to stay in the shallows.

Unlike Mallow, I will be thinking:

"It's snow, not ice! Huzzah!"

I hope you are having pleasant weather -

whatever that looks like to you - 

wherever you are today.

~~~~~

not about snow and cold

First of all, I should say I didn't watch the superbowl, only because the sport does not interest me at all. I didn't even watch the halftime show, because I couldn't be bothered to find out what time it was going to happen and knew there would be endless clips all over the internet for the foreseeable future. I do know that  Benito got rave reviews to which I say, well done him and a big "bien!" which was said with great gusto years ago when I asked the gardener at the Institute of Tropical Forestry how he was doing that morning. "Bien!"

Anyway, all that is to say I'm passing along a little YouTube video about an ad which was apparently aired during the game this year. An ad promoting a product to help find lost dogs.

Even if you have no dogs, this is something that might interest you. It certainly caught my attention.

The Very Dystopian Dog Super Bowl Ad

 I try not to soapbox on this blog at all, but this is a Public Service Announcement. It's just a 2-minute video. I hope the link works!

We will soon return to our regularly scheduled programming: the Cold and Snow Report.

~~~~~

sunny morning

It was 8F when I came in at 11 this morning. But sunny! Let's focus on that!

It will surprise no one to hear that we've had a few more inches of snow. It hasn't made any difference in terms of chores, which are very much sled-based. I had a doctor's appointment last week and was a bit surprised that I hadn't lost weight since my previous visit. Perhaps fat has turned to muscle? Sled-pulling, bale-heaving, chaffhaye-dragging muscle? That could only be a good thing.

This is the corner where the house meets the porch, and the final morning chore is topping up the bird feeders here. The wilds have been going through roughly three times the usual amount of seed, and I'm just happy to have stocked up in the Autumn. I had a feeling we were going to have A Winter this year, but I never imagined such an unrelieved period of intense, even brutal, cold. I keep telling the hens and the goats: "It won't last forever." Here's hoping it changes in a milder direction.

~~~~~

ongoing

 

Azalea with a frosty muzzle.

Barncam snap taken a few minutes ago.

6F.

Halfway to the barn.

Lily helping fetch in the hay.

By getting between me and the sled.

Someday I will post photographs that don't feature snow.

Can't say when, but someday.

~~~~~