battle weary

 Despite my best efforts, the aphids and white flies are winning.  Into the woods I have tossed six pepper plants and about two dozen zinnia seedlings.  The aphids moved on to my globe artichoke and whorled milkweed seedlings, but I'm not giving up on those quite yet.

In happier news, I've kind of, sort of potted up my dahlia tubers.  I've given them no heat mats or grow lights, just the indirect light coming from a window that faces east.  

                           

In our zone, dahlias take forever to develop and flower if you wait until the danger of frost is gone.  I have a terrible habit of not remembering I've overwintered the tubers in a box somewhere, so by the time I get them out and get them in dirt, they're months behind.  For the last three years I've managed about two or three flowers between about a dozen or more tubers.  For those who are unfamiliar with the plant, if you live in a zone that gets killing frosts, snow, and temperatures that go below 40* for months at a time, you need to dig up the tubers and store them somewhere dark and frost-free.  They're a delicate plant, and when leafed out and blooming, the slightest touch of frost will cause them to blacken and begin dying.  Being that fussy of a plant usually means I avoid them, but I also love the amazing colors and never ending varieties of dahlias.  I'm hoping this head start means these plants will bloom toward the middle of summer rather than early autumn, but I can't be sure I've timed it right.  I do know that in twelve days of minimal care, they're already pushing through the soil.

 

I have to turn them every other day so they don't lean so much, but I'm really excited to see if they do bloom this year.  Some of them have, and I've noted the colors (red, pink, salmon, and orange), but some of them I've had for years and have no idea what colors they are.  Once it's warmer and they can go out, I'll transplant them into proper containers.

Speaking of outside, I may have jumped the gun a bit by putting out the cheap cloche over the big planter.

OF COURSE.  OF COURSE IT'S SNOWING...AGAIN.  Ugh, three to five inches expected.  I had hoped to start hardening off the leeks but I need it to be just a little warmer, even with the cloche.

Before it snowed again, I did clip some broken branches off one of the Midwinter Fire dogwood bushes.  Supposedly they're like willow clippings, in that you can just shove them in the ground and they'll take root.  I cut the base on an angle and cut most of the lower branches, then pushed them into the ground.  I think I was supposed to cut all of the little branches off, but we'll see what happens.

 But for this weekend, no poly tunnel covering, no hauling the tractor out to move manure piles, no removing the two downed trees on the track fence (finally found some guys to do that!), no working on the dead hedge.  I'm just a girl, stuck inside a house, asking for spring to come.  

 

 

blackbirds singing a song to lure spring back

It Feels Springish

 And just as quickly as the switch was flipped to cold, it's been flipped to hey, it's above freezing!  Not exactly beach weather, but boy howdy, snow is melting.  Though it's going to be a while yet before I can get into the hillside garden.

 

I'm happy to see the two small dogwood trees are still in good shape; they're those sticks poking through the snow just to the left of the bottom of the hay ring.  These are free range Pagoda Dogwoods, which are native to New England and are abundant on our property.  These two were found as four inch seedlings and transferred to pots to grow on. It's not a great idea to leave them like that in our climate; if the pots freeze solid, there's a chance the roots will get killed.  I generally try to bury pots in the ground over winter to insulate them, but these are extra large buckets and the thought of digging a hole for them was too much.  Hopefully the snow is enough insulation.

In the house, things are popping up like crazy.  The seeds I sowed on February 18th are doing well despite the mold issues.

 Only the globe thistle seeds that I pulled from someone's garden didn't germinate, so overall I feel like this is a win.

The gaura seeds were the worst affected by mold and the ones I gave a diluted bleach bath.  There were supposed to be 100 seeds in the package and I think I'll be lucky if I get a dozen to plant out.

 On February 23rd I sowed some aster and petunia seeds.  I used the new trays and also sowed 3 kinds of hot peppers, sweet peppers, and three kinds of tomato.  The asters and tomatoes popped right up, but the peppers are just barely breaking through the soil and the petunias are so tiny, I can barely see them.

tomatoes

aster

petunia

A word of caution...I've noticed the last few years that I've been seed starting in the house that there's a particularly sour odor that permeates the air.  My house smells really stale right now, and slightly like there's a soiled diaper lurking in a corner.  I think it's a combination of the damp soils and general lack of fresh air.  I'd start these all downstairs in the mudroom, but I love checking them every day and fussing over them, so that's not going to happen.  I recommend a clothespin to the nose if visiting.

And lastly, the strangest thing is happening with the barn roof snow.  With the warmer temperatures and the melting, the snow slides down the roof as usual, but when it hits the snow stoppers it acts like a bolt of cloth being unrolled, and begins to fold up on itself.  It's so bizarre!

(how cute are those mules, though?)

 

I don't know how much will bank up behind the stops before it melts off, but I'm hoping it all goes before the next cold snap.  As an old Yankee used to say to me, it's not melting, it's just making room for more snow.

Be Careful What You Wish For

 Well now.  February blew in with some snow.  How much?  So far this month, it's this much.

 

That's my old bathtub under all that mess!

The nice thing has been that each storm was fairly manageable; between 3 - 6 inches of snow, and most of the time very light, fluffy stuff.  That's because it's been freaking FREEZING this winter.  The last storm could have been worse; they were calling for 6-8 inches of snow followed by sleet and freezing rain.  Luckily, we avoided the freezing rain and ended up with about 2 inches of granular sleet on top of about 8 inches of snow, packing it down to about 6 inches of dense mess.  Unluckily, the storm left us with 40-60 MPH wind gusts, which made cleanup...interesting.

While my brush cutting project has been waylaid, I have been hauling manure to the mound surrounding the wildflower meadow.  Now I'm committed to that project because I don't want a stinky layer of manure outside my back door all summer.   Planting the corn out back frees up the cinder block bed for something different, and I'm thinking of planting my onions and carrots there this year, as these are companion plants.  Companion planting the right plants together can help deter pests and boost growth; in some cases the plants each rely on a different nutrient that the other produces or doesn't leech from the soil.  Mixing in certain herbs or flowers with vegetables can work as well as mixing different crops together.  

Inside, I've started some leeks from seeds I harvested from the plants that went over last year.  I had about a 50% germination rate, so I'm happy!  We don't use a lot of leeks, so growing just a dozen or more plants will give us the small harvest we want, and will free up one or two beds.  

The mescluns and arugula continue to grow, but not by leaps and bounds as it would outside.

 The lower container of spicy mesclun mix was already harvested once, so that's regrowth.

I also pulled the 60 day stratified seeds out of the fridge to sow.  To my dismay, most of my packages had begun to develop mold.  A quick trip down an internet rabbit hole has convinced me to not use the paper towel plastic bag method next year.  Apparently mold is all too common.  Some people have noted they've planted the moldy seeds and had decent germination, and others recommended a quick bath in watered down bleach (10:1), which is what I did for the worst affected. I sowed most of the seeds in the flimsy black plastic seed starting trays I normally use...you know, the ones that break apart when you try to remove the seedlings.

 I was too impatient to wait for the newer models I'd ordered. 

I'm excited to try these - they're hard plastic top and bottom, with a flexible silicone center.  In theory you should be able to push on the hard bottom and pop the seedlings out without damaging the tray.  These are also dishwasher safe, so no excuses for not sterilizing them!  I bought them on Amazon, of course, and they come in a package of six trays that fit perfectly into a standard bottom tray.  These are the smallest version, and I'm thinking if they work as well as advertised, I may invest in some larger squared ones for potting up when seedlings are ready.

 And what method do I think I'll try next year instead of the paper towel/bag?  Outdoor winter sowing.  I just need to find someone who drinks milk to give me the plastic jugs!

Safety first update

 A few posts ago, I talked about the snow stops I had installed on the barn roof, and how they performed in a small snow storm that involved a changeover to rain.  Last weekend we had a storm that left behind six inches of fluffy snow - our biggest storm this season.  I know, it's been a lackluster winter as far as snowfall.  At any rate, I was able to gauge the effectiveness of the snow stoppers a little better this time.  They don't work quite as well as I'd hoped, but I'm still glad I had them installed.

 On the hay room side of the barn I figured the non-stoppered roof snow would give way much quicker, but it appears it came down all at once, despite the guards over the hay room door. The snow definitely spread farther where it wasn't slowed by the stoppers, but it still packed down like cement despite that.

On the mule's side, it was the same thing.  The snow came off all at once and formed a packed mound in the paddock.

I've marked the second photo - the yellow indicates the area I had run the snowblower through, to open it up.  The snow from the roof landed in a mound between the blue lines; at least it blew out farther away from the barn wall than it normally would if the stoppers weren't involved.  And luckily, it wasn't a massive load of snow by the time it came down.  This just makes me think that with deeper snow loads, I shouldn't assume I'll be safe under the eaves.  I have to admit I was a little surprised the snow still came off like this.

Completely safe, on the other hand, are the greens I started earlier this month.  

I started another sowing of arugula and mesclun mix (sweet this time) about two weeks after the first sowing.  I'm completely addicted to the arugula, and can stand there picking the tiny leaves off and eating them for far too long. I don't know if they'll ever get the chance to mature at this rate.  

As January comes to a close, I have two more weeks to wait before I can sow my stratified seeds and see how they do.  I've also ordered some last minute items like seed potatoes, sweet corn seed, and more mini cucumber seeds in preparation for the garden this year.  I've been hauling manure out back to the mound, so I'm definitely going to be planting squash out there, and hopefully corn.   I'm feeling optimistic about the coming season...let's hope it lasts into spring.

What Little Progress

 It's been colder than normal in these here parts, so my plan to clear a little bit of the forest garden every day was delayed.  When it was actually above freezing, I managed a small bit of clearing behind the leaf mold cage.  

It looks ok now, but what you can't see on the ground are the bittersweet and Virginia Creeper vines snaking about the forest floor.  With the leaves, acorns, and other detritus frozen to the ground, the finer cleanup will have to wait for spring.  This doesn't look like much, but it was three hours of snipping, lopping, untangling, and in the end four manure sled loads of brush went over the hill and into the pit of Out of Sight, Out of Mind.  That's where most of my brush ends up that isn't usable in other projects.

Shout out to these gadgets - I wouldn't be without them.  I use them to pick up leaves, thick piles of grass left by the mower, waste hay in the mule paddock, and piles of small brush.  

 With so much of the brush I'm currently cutting being brambles, these make picking up the thorny cuttings much less painful.  I've used other styles that were more square shaped, but these are my favorite.  

One more session on a mild day opened up even more space.  This time I transported most of the brush to the landfill.  I mean, do I really want those bittersweet vines re-rooting in my woods?  Not really.  After cleaning it up, I was so proud of how barren it looked.

Ah, there's nothing like a fresh six inch snowfall to prove you've missed a ton of small brush.

 I'll get all the fine stuff with the wheeled trimmer when I get it back.  In the meantime, I need to get my steps in by snowblowing my driveway.

 We're back into the deep freeze for the next week, so it looks like my brush clearing endeavor has been sidelined for now.  With this new snowpack, maybe I can actually get a little ski track laid out to keep the momentum going.  Maybe.  We'll see how things play out by next weekend.

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.

April Snowstorm Blues

 We survived the nor'easter of '24.

Snowfall reports vary, but my snow stake showed 19" of heavy, wet snow at the end of the storm.  Winds from 30-40 and sometimes 50 mph wreaked havoc on snow laden limbs and weaker trees, bringing down so many that at one point the citizens without power numbered over one hundred thousand in New Hampshire alone.  At one point the road closures due to trees and wires down exceeded 200.  Thanks to hundreds of tree service companies and utility workers from New Hampshire, as well as crews from neighboring states that flooded the area in the aftermath, we were only without power for 3 days.  

The storm started for me on Thursday morning; I woke up at 3:00 am and was too keyed up to get back to sleep.  I got up, checked the snowfall, made my coffee, and sat down to do some internet surfing.  At 3:53 am there was a huge flash of lightning followed by two thunderclaps that were so intense, they shook the house.  Thundersnow!  Jim Cantore, eat your heart out.  

Five minutes later we lost power.

Through the first part of the storm, snowblowing was fairly easygoing.  After feeding the mules I cleaned up in front of the garage, did my path to the barn, and cleared at mom's house.  I managed to get my generator started and was very pleased with how well it did over the three day period.  Running my mini split heating unit, the water pump, my refrigerator, and a few outlets between my kitchen and the connecting porch I was able to get eight hours of running time for every 5 gallons of gas.  

The most significant thing that happened to me specifically is a cautionary tale to anyone who has become far too comfortable with winter cleanup.  As the storm was winding down I decided to do some preemptive cleanup around the mule barn.  There was about 16-18" of snow built up on the roof, and it's metal, so I knew it would come flying off at some point.  It generally will come down in a sheet, and it slams to the ground forming a cement-like berm of snow in front of the hay room doors.  My plow guy had punched open the main part of the driveway, but hadn't plowed along the barn side, and I like to keep the hay room doors accessible for unloading shavings, hay, or moving carts of manure out of the barn.  And I wanted to dump some manure that morning.  I also knew if I could get the current snow cleaned up, that would be all the less I'd need to deal with once the snow came off the roof.

So it was that I began a slow trudge along the barn, through snow over my knees, trying to clear a path with my trusty snowblower.  I managed to break open one path almost to the doors, when in a flash there was a complete whiteout, and a second later I was standing - quite shocked - looking at my snowblower buried under a pile of snow.  Part of the snow load from the roof had let go.

I began frantically trying to dig out the machine with my hands, which was still running, and attempted to rock it out of its position, to no avail.  I went into the barn and grabbed a shovel, and began digging it out with that.  And that's when it all went to hell in a hand basket.  

 The next thing I knew, the other half of the snow load let go and I saw it hit the machine, realized what was happening, and a split second later was thrown sideways into the snow and completely buried.  My panicked brain's first thought was "AIR!", and I began trying to claw the snow away from my head.  I was pinned under about two feet or more of heavy, wet snow, lying sideways on my right side.  My right arm was pinned underneath me, bent so my hand was near my head.  My legs were buried the worst, and I couldn't move them at all.  I was able to free my left arm and began digging and pushing the snow away from my head and torso as best I could.  I was keenly aware that there could be more snow on the roof ready to come barrelling down on me at any second, so of course I began to panic.  I started thrashing my torso around, trying to free my right arm enough to bend it behind me to my right back pants pocket, where my phone was.  (Note to self - keep the phone in a front jacket pocket from now on!)  When I realized I was not going to be able to reach my phone, absolute panic set in.  I began screaming at the top of my lungs for help, because my mother had been snowblowing up near her barn when this happened.  Unfortunately, she couldn't see me, and couldn't hear me over the noise of her own snowblower, and my snowblower was still running right beside me.  I was fairly certain I was going to die in that snow coffin, and wouldn't be missed or found until my plow guy pushed my frozen corpse up the following day.  After about fifteen minutes of thrashing, clawing, and screaming I was able to get my right arm freed, then twisted myself up on my hands and knees.  I called my mother on my cell phone, crying hysterically.  By the time she made it down to the barn, I had managed to pull a foot out of my boot and get myself kicked free, and was standing upright. So I didn't die.  Obviously.

I managed to get the machine shut down and my mother took a picture of the snowblower, buried.

Later that night, after I'd stewed on my idiocy for some time, I decided to rescue the machine.  I forced the hay room doors open and dug a path to the snowblower, and managed to rock it out of the snow and pull it into the barn.  Once in, I was able to wheel it down the alley and out the front door.  My back was decidedly not happy.

My would-be snow coffin.

Chalk that up to a hard lesson learned.

Other casualties were part of my newly started mule track; I may be able to salvage the no-climb horse fence, but I'll need to replace some pressure treated posts, and it looks like I may have lost three or four corral panels and a gate or two.  I had leaned extra sections against the started fence to use later...wouldn't you know that's where the tree would fall?  This was a tall pine that came up by the roots.

Other random shots of destruction around the area, mostly after the dangerous stuff was cleaned up:

Our town road agent, hard at work cleaning up the roadsides.

But it was beautiful, too.

Gotta love a New England spring.