I’m blessed to live where I do, and that realization is not lost on me (especially when I venture into big city Seattle). I’m not quite Jed Clampett (yet), but I find my happiest moments are often enjoyed simply sitting on my front or back porch watching nature’s floorshow in the company of two noble bulldogs.
Particularly stunning, and definitely my most captured corner (photographically speaking) is seen from looking out my backdoor. (Queue the Credence Clearwater Revival.) Kudos to Mother Nature and the efforts of the previous stewards, for each has joined in painting the perfect seasonal landscape: the moss-covered maple, the wild hyacinths drenching the understory in pools of blue, and the layered screens of foliage finishing up the backdrop. There’s no better place to share a cup of coffee, canine companionship, and a few kind words.
So I wanted to share it with you today. Sometimes, we need a little beauty in a world of harsh realities. Sometimes we need to see that the planet shares its gifts daily, and sometimes we just need a moment to pause in wonder and be grateful for the good and the grace before our eyes and in our hearts.
There are gardening tools, and then, there are gardening tools. The Meadow Creature broadfork is definitely the latter, a precision-built tool made right here on Vashon Island. Bob Powell is the Meadow Creature mastermind who “…re-invented the broadfork, taking a favorite tool for aerating already-loose soil and turning it into an indestructible workhorse for breaking the hardest ground, that’s still easy to use for cultivating and aerating.¹” The first time I saw what it could do in the greenhouse, and I was sold.
My new built-to-last, heavy-duty broadfork
After returning one that I had borrowed beyond an appropriate amount of time, I decided to buy my own. Depending on tine size and width, these tools run anywhere between $189 – $209, and being all-metal, will last several lifetimes. After a winter without water, the soil in my greenhouse had the tilth of a parking lot, another deciding factor in my purchase. There is no shovel nor a back strong enough for hardpan like this, and my rototiller would have just bounced around and caused me harm.
Here’s a look at the me and my broadfork in action. My clip below is a bit weak and unedited, but the ones following it are pretty wonderful, highlighting farmer friends of mine doing the broadfork shuffle on Vashon Island. The first time you use it on untilled soil it’s a pretty tough bit of exercise as you can see, but in an existing bed or planting plot that’s been tilled before, the fork makes the work a breeze while tilling deeper than any machine rototiller could ever hope to.
I’m all about dessert. In fact, anyone who asks me to bring a salad to a potluck misses out on my better efforts. My love of sweets is likely hereditary. My father could not finish a meal without asking about or eating dessert. I’d have to say ice cream was his favorite, as it is mine. So after a day out in the sun, pulling weeds and muscles, I sat down to a lazy dinner (tuna salad sandwich) and pondered the big question, “What was I going to have for dessert?”
Honey harvest: two of my favorite words
I thought, well there’s nothing wrong with a bowl of vanilla ice cream. At that moment, the clouds parted (I swear I heard angels sing), and the sun lit up my jars of honey and an old peanut chopper on the counter — divine dessert intervention, no doubt.
Short ingredient list: Tall Clover honey, Vanilla ice cream (Tillamook), and salted peanuts
Two scoops of vanilla ice cream later, and I forged ahead with the toppings at hand: homespun honey and Virginia peanuts. Upon contact, the honey solidified into a rich sticky toffee, perfect alone, but happier as a vehicle for some crunch. Chopped salted peanuts finished the crown of this confection, and before I could say Pooh Corner, my spoon was stuck in the middle of the opulent mess. Only three ingredients, and one of the best things I’ve ever eaten — the perfect combination of sweet, salty, creamy, crunchy and rich.
How to Make a Honey of a Dessert
Step one: Scoop up a bowl of your favorite vanilla ice cream.
Step two: Drizzle a generous spoonful or two of honey over the ice cream.
Step three: Add a tablespoon or two or three of chopped, salted peanuts.
Now for the floor show…
And just in case you need a little entertainment with your dessert, here’s a clip from my friend Heidi who caught me extracting some of the world’s best honey (in my humble opinion). A big thanks to her husband David for being my O-Bee-Wan Kenobi, and sharing his knowledge, equipment, and love of bees. As Thoureau once said, “The keeping of bees is like the direction of sunbeams.”
Oh, and one more thing, speaking of sweet things, my pal Eileen of Passions to Pastry takes desserts to a whole new level. Check out her blog for some seriously delicious inspiration.
“ ‘Well,’ said Pooh, ‘what I like best,’ and then he had to stop and think. Because although Eating Honey was a very good thing to do, there was a moment just before you began to eat it which was better than when you were, but he didn’t know what it was called.” ― A.A. Milne, Winnie-the-Pooh
Very thirsty persimmon tree: What’s a tree got to do to get a drink around here?
Summer comes and goes in the Pacific Northwest with nary a drop of rain. It’s Seattle’s best kept secret. Our summers are Miami’s winters. Unfortunately, such a lack of precipitation (while good for picnics) is bad for young fruit trees; they need watering intervention.
Stressed-out cherry trees: Curled and browning leaves are sure signs it’s time to water.
Newly-planted and young trees benefit from extra watering during dry spells. You have to remember that the fruiting and flowering buds set the summer before, so if a tree is stressed and fighting for survival, next season’s crop will likely be sparse if present at all.
Treegator is a lifesaver for my trees.
I’ve tried many methods of watering my 60-tree orchard, and found that watering bags like Treegator work wonderfully in quenching a tree’s thirst drop by drop over a five to nine hour period. I water my grape vines with a drip line hose as they run on an long arbor, a Geneva Trellis.
How Tree Watering Bags Work
A tall drink of water
Basically (and brilliantly) the bag wraps around the trunk and is zipped up to create a water tower of sorts.
Zip it!
Simply fill the bag with water (opening under label flap) and let the water drip slowly out through the bottom pin holes. If the tree is older, you can zip two bags together for a larger trunk, and double your watering capacity.
Hey that’s what I look like in my down vest.
Watering Bag Pros
Easy to use
Durable (been using for three years now)
Each bag holds about 15 gallons
Trees are hydrated slowly
Water run-off unlikely
Easy to store, lays flat when empty
Watering Bag Cons
Bags must be level and centered, or may fall over
Falling over may result is snapping the trunk in half (trust me on this one)
Disclosure: I am not being paid to endorse either manufacturer’s product.
Pear tree “Happy Hour”
How I water my fruit trees
I water row by row, one row per day, ten trees per row
Following day, I move the bags to the next row of ten trees
6 days x 10 trees = 60 trees
While a bit time consuming, this kind of watering exercise is a great way to unwind after a long day. And on Vashon Island at the height of summer, we enjoy 16 hours of sunlight.
In closing, I think this is the best way to water trees, for me. I’d add, if you have a well or water source on your property and have a larger orchard, drip line and irrigation are the way to go. I am on a water district with a limited and costly supply of water, so this works best for me in conserving water and finances. Happy watering, easy picking and warm regards.
My apologies to California, but the Pacific Northwest is being blessed with another gully washer. Bedazzled with raindrops that quickly channel off the panes, my windows are artful reminders that it’s nice to be on their good side. High and dry at my desk (the kitchen table), I’m enjoying the company of two snoring, farting bulldogs along with a more welcoming (albeit misplaced) campfire fragrance — the result, a perfumed pairing you will never find in the scented-candle aisle.
Thanks to a couple rambunctious log rounds that could not be contained by poor placement and worthy andirons, my house smells like the smoldering embers from a beachside salmon bake. Fortunately, the firescreen and fender stopped the logs fiery escape, but not their spewing fumes.
Being a willful shut-in on a rainy day is not so bad. I tried dusting. And while that lasted all of six minutes, I did find the tedious cleaning attempt inspired me to write about a few objects of my affection — objects that still could use some dusting.
And if I may qualify, the following items that caught my eye and still move me by their simple beauty and presence. They rarely cost much, many were just found, and others I ferreted from a thrift store or garage sale sweep. And while, I have been blessed to receive many beloved gifts from friends and family, and I will save the show-and-tell for those keepsakes for another post.
Beauty Is Where You Find It
Pretty from any angle
This little porcelain pod is no bigger than a goose egg and moonlights as flower vase for my garden’s most diminutive stems. The vessel smiles or frowns depending how it’s positioned, and the low-sheen glaze drenches the surface like chocolate. Freed from the thrift shop, this $3 floral canteen has found its forever home.
Mother Nature’s handiwork
Called a wishing rock by some, this small stone was plucked from a crescent beach in Southeast Alaska. Sea, wind and glacial grinding sculpted a gem so visually pure and simple that it caught my eye and subsequently my heart — a keepsake a million years in the making.
The bold and beautiful
Colorful and very much a statement from the artist who carved and decorated it, this tray reflects a bravado not often seen in Japanese lacquerware. And when tilted in the light, the painstakingly-applied lacquer reveals a few secrets in the grain of its wood.
Gracie appreciates old English stoneware and a good fruit compote.
The bluebird of happiness landed on this platter and in my hands many years ago in an antique store in Seattle’s Pioneer Square. While I’ve humiliated it with chips and dip, piled it high with brownies, and loaded it up with Easter’s deviled eggs, the plate is most at home propped up in my cupboard for me (and all) to see.
As the crow once flew…
When I broke into the aging walls of my breakfast nook (on yet another home improvement project), I found a cache of treasures in the wall. Correction: The treasures were more on the trashy side, and the collector likely a discerning four-legged creature. In any case, one artifact stood out, a crow skull. While I dispatched the other less-appealing bits to the shop-vac, I kept the skull as a fond reminder of the stories this house could tell.
If pies are art, pie plates are their pedestals, and this next little object joyfully exalts the art of baking with a salt-glazed, ceramic nod to pie love. Yet another thrift-shop find, this pie plate simply makes me smile. And while I may not always wear my heart on my sleeve, it can always be found in my pie.
Man does not live by keypad alone.
True confession: I’ve always looked down my nose at ballpoint pens. For me, fountain pens are the magic wands of the written word. Merely holding one makes me want to write a hundred letters and a few big checks (with lots and lots of zeros). The last time I held this vintage Parker pen to paper, I believe I heard it purr.
What are some of your favorite “objects of my affection?”
Fresh start: honeycomb, pea vines, and a little luck…
The robins, crows, tree frogs and barred owls, raucous little alarm clocks that they are, have sounded off to alert me that winter is officially over, and it’s time to leave the comfort of my cave (both figuratively, and literally). I’m not one to argue with Mother Nature, so may I be the first to wish you well on this first day of spring, the vernal equinox.
While I make myself presentable (this may take awhile) and wipe the long winter’s sleep from eyes, please enjoy some of my favorite photos of spring around Tall Clover Farm.
I’ll be right back.
At The Roasterie: Coffee break for Tom and “pet-us” break for Boz and Gracie
Room with a view both inside and out
Abstract nature: Camellia petals at Magnolia Beach
Boz and Gracie: Taking time to smell (or perhaps eat) the daffodils
Boz supervises all things greenhouse; make that ALL things, period.A sunrise worth waking up for…
This winter, I am suffering from (dare I say) Blogger’s Block, where my eyes stare at the laptop, my fingers go through typing exercises, and my brain rereads what appears on the screen, and then, my pinky goes rogue and hits the delete key boldly and unapologetically. And so it goes…
I don’t expect this mental wall to stand much longer; spring and warmer days are just around the corner. So in the mean time, I’d like to share a lovely story that I stumbled upon of how a woman returned to her mother’s home and farm, and decided to stay; and in the end created a whole new life for herself.
Simply click on the link below for photos and text.
Out in the greenhouse, I found many of my garden starts and cuttings were already needing to be repotted into larger pots. Apparently a warmer-than-normal Pacific Northwest winter has encouraged some rapid growth in some usually pokey plants. In this case, my tayberries (a sweet-tart, raspberry-blackberry cross) were ready for new digs–time to repot!
Let me share my step-by-step repotting guide and an easy way to repot plants by treating the old pot as a template for the new pot.
A Simple Way to Repot Plants
1. New pot should be at least double the size of the old pot.
2. Remove plant from old pot, and fill old pot with new soil.
3. Add potting soil to the bottom of the new larger pot.
4. Add only enough soil in the new pot to bring the old pot even once placed inside it.
5. Then, fill the empty areas of the new pot with soil until both pots are even.
5. Firmly press down the soil in the new pot and add more soil if necessary.
6. Gently remove the old pot from the middle of the new pot, leaving a hole.
7. Place the plant’s root ball, like a plug in a bathtub, in the resulting cavity.
8. Gently press down the root ball and make sure the soil levels between plant and new pot are even.
9. It’s important to keep the plant at the same soil level as the old pot, not too deep, not to shallow.
10. Water gently, and watch it take off to new heights.
More about Tayberries…
Normally, I plant starts directly out in the soil once the roots have developed thoroughly, but the tayberry starts I received were particularly small. I thought a little greenhouse pampering would improve their odds of survival and future vigor.
Tayberries, first bred in Scotland, are right at home in the Pacific Northwest, thriving on mild winters and cool summers. I first discovered the tayberry at Remlinger Farms in Carnation, Washington, in the days when the place was more about its farmstand than company picnics and private parties. The berry grabbed me by the tongue, slapped around some taste buds and dripped down my chin in juicy defiance. Dang, this was not a blackberry; this was not a raspberry. It was a most unique little gem bursting with tangy flavor and unapologetic juiciness, almost as if the cross included a strawberry. I’ve been a fan ever since, and find it best eaten fresh (in opinion), but also exceptional in jams and jellies. (Great with shortcake and cream, but tends to sog out pies if used a a filling.)
Freshly-pulled carrots: from backyard barrel to skillet in no time.
I usually stay away from gimmicky gardening tips, the ones fraught with the requisite hoop-jumping to pick a mere peapod or pull a pound of potatoes. The truth is (at least from my experience) that most vegetables benefit from being grown in the ground as opposed to a container. As for my apartment dwelling pals, stick with containers and keep up the good fight. There’s nothing like plucking a sun-ripe tomato from a fourth-story balcony. Gardening triumph in the city!
Overwintering carrot tops die back but the roots are alive and well and ready to harvest.
Now back in the country, I rely on good ol’ Mother Earth to provide my planting canvas, except when it comes to growing carrots. I prefer to scatter seeds chockablock in a large barrel or plastic pot filled with potting soil. Carrots are quite happy in this uptown home.
Tip-top carrots
Why grow carrots in a bucket or barrel?
Good soil tilth and drainage
Easy to start seeds
Carrots thrive in light, rock-free soil
Easily harvested as needed
Successive planting, one in spring (summer crop) and one summer (winter crop)
Easier to control pests like grubs, wireworms and moths
Carrot Dragon: Red is the new Orange.
How to Grow Carrots in a Container
Choose a wide container at least two to three inches deeper than the mature length of the carrot cultivar you’ve chosen.
Fill with bag of potting soil, leaving two-inch rim to allow for watering.
No need to put rocks in the bottom or shards of clay pots (not necessary).
Plant seeds around last frost date in your area. (Carrot seeds can handle cold weather.)
Scatter seeds carefully about one inch apart over entire area.
Cover seeds with more potting soil, but very lightly, only about 1/4 inch.
Lightly water surface area. Carrot seeds can float away, so gentle watering is the key until sprouted.
Don’t let soil dry out for more than a day during the germination period.
Once sprouted with two to three leaves, thin out any crowded carrot plants, leaving an inch or two between plants.
Keeped watered but not waterlogged.
Carrots prefer cooler soil temperatures so a mixture of sun and shade is good.
I don’t fertilize carrots as that usually promotes green leafy growth and spindly roots.
To deter pests, cover container with reemay, which lets light in, and keeps bugs out. (Optional: This may not be necessary in all areas.)
Sample your carrots throughout the growing season and harvest as you wish.
Carrots usually take anywhere from two to four months to reach mature size.
Bath time for my garden friends
Carrots come in many colors, including red, yellow, white and purple. Last year I tried some unusual varieties like Dragon, Cosmic Purple and Atomic Red, and all were quite tasty and fine performers in my carrot container garden. So give it a try if you’ve found growing carrots difficult in the past. Corralling your carrots may just be the trick.
“Carrots are more nutritious cooked than raw. When cooked whole, they have 25 percent more falcarinol, a cancer-fighting compound, than carrots that have been sectioned before cooking.”
I like surprises, not the kind that make you pee in your pants, and seek therapy and tubs of Haagen Dazs, but the sort that delight you for the sheer level of their consideration and thoughtfulness. I was the recipient of such a fine surprise this week in the form of a knitted bulldog, a wooly little doppelganger of my buddy Boz. My friend Jill, fiber master, philosopher, and keeper of the geese, dropped off a piece of her handiwork that exceeded any measurement realized on the cuteness scale.
Too cute for words
Boz loved his mini-me so much, he wanted to eat it up. I explained to Boz, such devotion is not prudent, or else we’d finish the day with a Vet visit and a dismembered alter ego.
Selfie quality goes down when holding onto a knitted bulldog, while holding off a real bulldog, all while under the kitchen table.
Knitting is like an unsolvable mathematical equation to me. I fear if I tried it for any length of time, my head would explode like a stomped-on pack of ketchup. My brain is not wired for such precision, hand-and-eye coordination and focus. The first shiny thing to pass my way, and the knitting needles would be dropped or repurposed as satay skewers.
A quick howdy-do and back on the table for mini-Boz.
Vashon Island, big on fiber arts, is home to some very talented weavers, knitters and felters, and Jill is among them. So thank you Jill, thank you for this little guy with a big heart. Just like Boz (who likes top-billing), he makes me smile. Oh how he makes me smile.
Gracie is her own dog. Napping trumps revelry.
As for Gracie, she refuses to mug for my camera when a sunny landing is to be had.
Related Links:
Vashon Originals: This is Jill’s Etsy page. She’s also know for making aprons and dog coats out of old waterproof feed sacks (a very clever woman).
Wildwood Woolery: My friend Lisa’s site, which shows you how far fiber arts can go. My feet are happy when I wear her socks; my neck is toasty warm when I’m wrapped in one of her wooly scarves. And needless to say, my dapper factor goes way up.
Vashon Sheepdog Classic: This amazing event features some super smart dogs, superior fiber arts and of course, herds of weary sheep.
