New Year, Old Me

 I haven't made any New Year resolutions; I never seem to stick to them.  This autumn I was put on blood pressure medication which made me feel like an utter failure.  I am terrible at weight loss (food is my kryptonite), so instead of vowing to diet, I decided I'm going to move more.  I'm using an old Fitbit tracker and making sure I'm at least getting the requisite 10,000 steps in, but I try to aim higher.  My average since August is 11,000+ steps per day.  I despise regimented exercise, so walking, gardening, and yard work are my motivating tools.  I was a little worried I would fall behind during winter, but so far we haven't really had a winter.

What little snow we did get in December was washed away in oddly warm temperatures with rain.  As soon as we flipped the calendar, we flipped the temperatures.  We're going to see pretty much a consistent daily pattern of mid 20sF during the day, with teens to single digits overnight for most of the month.  I'm a little more than worried about losing some of the late planted perennials if their root systems weren't well established, but we'll see how it goes.  I'm actually surprised by how much green can be found in the hillside garden and cottage beds right now.  I tried to mulch as much as I could, but I was really banking on a deep snow pack to insulate most of my beds. 

The lack of snow has given me the impetus to finally start cutting back the brush and invasive plants where my forest garden will be.  My wheeled weed wacker is currently being repaired, so I'm using loppers to work my way through the tangle of bittersweet, briars, and Autumn Olive saplings.  

So far I've managed to cut back the small area in front of the wheel barrow.  It's not as easy as you'd think, not with the ground frozen completely solid and much of the debris stuck fast to the dirt.

It's not something I'll get done in a day, but I think by plugging away at it at least a half hour each day, I should get most of it cleared in a short time.  And it gets me moving, which is my bigger goal.  

I had also started cutting back the sumac whips behind the dogwood garden in the front.  My main reason was because I absolutely love seeing the sun set the Midwinter Fire bark aglow, and the sumac behind it was a distraction.

 Although, the sun behind the fuzzy sumac whips is beautiful in its own way.

Behind the house, it's been cold enough to freeze my little water feature solid.  I never did get around to putting a flagstone path between it and the fire pit area.

Speaking of the fire pit area, I'm rethinking the wall of asters I planted along the edge.  I think I may move them elsewhere, and plant something smaller along that edge, or leave it so the granite edging can be admired.  The asters also detract from the Yellow Twig Dogwood, which needs a serious pruning and maybe a new location.  

I don't cut back the asters because I've noticed the smaller birds going for the seed heads at times, and I like to encourage foraging.  Unfortunately I forget to pinch them back and they get leggy, which means they flop when the snow comes.  Unsightly!  

One last movement inducing task this winter will be hauling my daily mule manure to the wildflower mound.  This was something I've been wanting to do for two years now, but never got around to cutting back all the weeds and grass first. Unfortunately, Reputa suffered a broken throttle cable and a failed tube in one of her tires, so she is down for the count right now.  Pushing a wheelbarrow full of fresh poo across the farm twice daily in the pitch dark will be a good way to keep the step count up. Right?  I mean...right?  *cries softly*

 

 At this point, it's pretty well beat down and I can see what I'm doing.  The goal is to cover the slope with manure, then mulch heavily, and use this area to grow either corn or squash...or both.  Add in some pole beans, and I'll have a three sisters garden.  Not a bad idea!  Now, let's see if I can actually accomplish these tasks.  Full disclosure - no breaths will be held in the coming months.

Yas, Green!

 The lights on the Christmas tree have barely cooled and it's already put away for next year, and my super cheap-o seed starting setup is humming in its place.  In addition to the seeds I began stratifying last week I have verbena bonariensis, globe artichoke, and teasel on the way, all of which need stratification. 

I know, right?

And because I can't help myself, I've already started some seeds. 

Mesclun mix greens, arugula, sweet basil, and spicy basil.  Just a little somethin', somethin' to tide me over for the next...*checks calendar*...53 days.

Winter Solstice Celebration

 I've decided the winter solstice is the perfect time to begin stratification of seeds.  Stratification is basically tricking seeds into thinking they've been through the cold, moist of winter in order to encourage germination.  I think many seeds I've started that have failed probably needed this.  

I've purchased seeds from Prairie Moon Nursery, which gives you codes for each seed that tell you how long of a stratification they require, as well as the best method.  The seeds I've chosen will all be done using a method I've never tried before - moist coffee filters.

My first order of business is to sort through and decide which seeds to start now.  Some of the seeds need 90 days, some 60, and some 30.  I'm going to start the 90 and 60 day seeds now, so that by mid February and late March I'll be able to sow them.  Most of these varieties are perennials.

Using the handy brochure that came with the seeds, I did a quick soak by pouring the seeds into a small glass of water, letting them sit for about a minute or so then pouring them into a coffee filter that was set inside a small colander.  (Not so) Pro tip 1: pour the water slowly, otherwise the coffee filter flops over and seeds fall into the colander, and some of them are hard to pick up!  I let the water drip out of the filters then carefully folded them as small as I could and wrung the rest of the water out, then unfolded the filter.  The directions say to lay the seeds in a single layer spread out on the filter, which apparently requires some sort of supernatural dexterity or more patience than I can muster.  Every time I tried to push the seeds around they stuck to my fingers or wadded together on the filter.  I ended up folding the filters in half and giving them a little shake to try to spread the seeds more evenly before sliding them into the plastic bags.  (Not so) Pro tip 2: put the dry paper towel in first if you're using small bags, because trying to get the whole mess in there without spilling seeds or wadding up the towel and filter is another test of one's abilities.  

 And there we are.  Now I just have to remember to check them weekly and keep them moist, but not soggy.  Hopefully this will pay off when I sow the seeds in the spring.  

Happy Solstice!

Safety first!

 We just had a storm much like the one of December 26th, 2022.  We had some decent snowpack started, then in came absurdly warm temperatures and rain, followed by a deep freeze.  It was a good time to observe how well the snow guards I recently had installed on the mule barn roof worked.  After all, I didn't want a repeat of the April snowstorm near-death experience.

I opted for clear polycarbonate snow guards  and was happy with how unobtrusive they looked after installation.  We had a few small storms with three inches of snow or so, and above where they were installed, the snow pretty much stayed put.  The foot or so between the bottom row and the roof edge would just slide off, but that wasn't enough snow to cause injury to the mules, who for some reason insist on backing up to the eave side wall on the outside of the barn during bad weather.  Maybe the rain or snow coming off the roof feels like a massage, who knows?  But given this predilection I've always worried that they would get hurt at some point if a large amount of snow gave way; experience is the mother of caution, or something like that.

After the first couple storms we had another small one that left about four inches of new snow, but reports were calling for an unusual increase in temperatures and some torrential rain, along with whipping winds.  I was curious to see if the rain would have any effect on the snow still piled on the roof, held back by the snow guards.  Would it remain there, would it slide off in one go, would it peel off in sections?  

December 11th, 8:30 am: The snow is covering the entire roof.

December 11th, 2:30 pm: It's been drizzling rain but temperatures remain in the 30sF, only the edge has been exposed.

December 11th, 5:30 pm: It's beginning to rain in earnest, and despite melting or compacting a bit, the snow hasn't gone anywhere.

December 13th, 8:00 am: Despite temperatures into the 50sF and torrential downpours on the 11th, there's still snow on the roof.  This was pretty much what it looked like the morning of the 12th but I forgot to take a photo.  Temperatures plummeted back into the 20sF during the day.

It's now the 15th and it looks pretty much the same.  So, despite melting and rain, it didn't come off in one giant sheet.  The amount that slides off the roof isn't enough to hurt the mules (or their person).  And the biggest surprise to me is the lack of the massive frozen bank under the eaves, the one that sometimes looks like this:

So suffice to say, I'm pretty darned happy with these little snow guards.  I was nervous picking manure under the eaves at first (hello, PTSD) but I know now that I have nothing to worry about, I'm perfectly safe from sudden avalanches.  And it helps that I purchased enough to also have some installed over the hay room doors on the other side of the barn, where I'd been buried this past spring.  Safety first!

December

 

We've had an exceptionally dry autumn, and a few inches of wet snow was a welcome sight on Thanksgiving day.  In parts of New England drought is a concern, and wildfires have been an issue.  I'm not sure how the lack of water recently affect any plants that aren't well established, and I'm a little concerned for my fall planted garlic, but we'll see how things fare.

I've spent much of the morning going through photos from the summer and hoping for inspiration for next year.  I'm already planning where to move the last of the perennials in the hillside garden, and making lists of annual seeds I'd like to start over winter.  Hopefully the next five months will fly by, and before I know it, I'll be back to complaining that I've over-planted and under-watered once again.

Putting the gardens to bed

 Always a bittersweet moment. 

As I pull up the remnants of what was another decent effort in the vegetable garden and cut back dead foliage in the flower gardens, I can't help but chastise myself for not being one of those gardeners who obsesses over each and every plant.  I don't have an amazing yield, I don't grow monster fruits, and I generally fail far more than I succeed.  I wish I had that drive, but I really don't.  Gardening to me is something I think I'm passionate about, but in truth it's more of a passing enthusiasm.  I might remember to water, if and when we have water.  I might remember to feed my plants.  I don't always prepare my soil before planting.  I don't always think about the angle of the sun or the days to germination.  And yet...somehow it always works.  Maybe not impressively, but we get a meal or two, there's always something I can share with friends and neighbors, and there's always a pretty flower to be admired, no matter how black my thumb may be.  Next year, I need to plant earlier.  I missed more than a few harvests because I hesitated.  This winter, I need to start a few more perennial plants from seed.  The money saved by growing my own yarrow, baptisia, and blue fescue grass has me hooked.  These are my lessons for this growing season.

Today I pulled up my corn and squirreled away the stalks for my mother to use as decoration.  After two days of absolutely driving, gusting winds, I was actually amazed they weren't all flattened.

 Once they were pulled, the garden looked so naked.

 But how about that cottage garden?  Both sides are still eeking out a bit of color.  I'm excited to see them next year.

Most of the vegetable beds have been cleared out and augmented with some amazing composted mule manure - it's 2 or 3 years old at this point and rivals anything you'd get out of a bag.  Garlic for next year is planted; Music and Premium Northern White.  I may try a softneck variety next year, but I haven't settled on one yet.  I also cleaned out the masonry tub bed that was nothing but moss and weeds, and gave that a refresh.  I've been ignoring certain beds and it's time I put them to use.

The edges of the garden really needs a good weeding and new layer of bark mulch, which will probably wait until spring.

I managed to tackle the hot borders, which took a day and a half.  I really need to practice better technique; prepare a bed before planting, not as an afterthought!

I don't know why I do this to myself. 

At any rate, I spent an entire day ripping hunks of grass and weeds from around what few plants were in these beds.

Planted some spring bulbs, perennial mums, and kniphofia into the bare spots, and gave each bed a generous layer of wood chip mulch.

I still have some finishing touches to work on, but they're well prepared for winter at least.

On the backside of the house, my homemade hand rails are beginning to show signs of rot, so out they come.  I'll use them as supports for the rambunctious asters on the pond side of the firepit area.  The raspberry trellis was a shot in the dark that didn't work out so well, so I will try something different next year.  The raspberry bushes didn't really get to a point where they needed much support anyway.  I really hope they put some growth on next year.

The gravel paths were about as successful as my gravel patios.  Crab grass is just a nightmare!  I had originally wanted to put in tiered steps using pressure treated 4x4s; I may do that next spring.  It seems like where I want grass, it won't grow, and where I don't want it, it thrives.  But how about the color on that Tiger Eye Sumac?  Just beautiful!

I never think to get a photo of it when it's lush and gorgeous, which is a shame.  I have to say, I'm really happy with this little shrub as it's not the invasive pest that our native Staghorn Sumac is.  Don't get me wrong, I do love the Staghorn; it's a great provider of winter food for many birds, and it gives the landscape an almost tropical feel.  The autumn color is fantastic, as well, but once you've got these thugs they can be difficult to get rid of.  This Tiger Eye, on the other hand, isn't showing any signs of suckering two years on.  Of course, my mother's favorite saying about certain plants is "the first year they sleep, the second year they creep, the third year they leap".  Maybe next year will see this little shrub explode, who knows?

And as it so often happens, over the course of days it's taken me to prepare this post, changes have occurred.  Four days later and we've had our first killing frost.  And so begins the next season.