My old farmhouse has a history of housing seasonal workers, or so states a 1917 sale pamphlet, “Upstairs there are two large sleeping porches, suitable for seasonal workers.” Close to one hundred years later, I’d have to say that assertion still stands true, well actually half true; one sleeping porch was converted to a luxuriously large closet in the eighties. So while one sleeping porch remains wonderfully intact and welcoming, the other is a now closet where the only thing resting is a dated wardrobe of earlier sizes, styles, and occupations. It’s unlikely I will ever need a 1982 Armani suit (especially the 42 regular part), one where the shoulder pads are begging to poke an eye out, and the wide pant legs could easily conceal a shopping cart of frozen game hens. And yet they remain in my possession, but I digress.
Sleeping porch as closet: a restful place for things I no longer wear or use.
Last month I put the sleeping porch to good use as an extra guest room in my full house. My mom, sister, brother and sister-in-law came for a visit, or as I like to think of it, a forced-labor camp with better food and accommodations. Before you judge me, I had nothing to do with it. You see my mother is a tour de force, an octogenarian with more energy, ideas and capability than most folks half her age. We have a family joke. When my mother asks, “What should we do next?” I respond, “Take a nap.”
I pay my workers in pie. (Please note the spick-and-span counter replete with white grout and shiny tile.)
My mother has a very big heart and recognizes that my place and its projects can be a little daunting for one person. She sees to it that while we have a serious measure of fun and family time, we don’t let the opportunity to help around the farm escape us. And while her kids are loafing a bit, she has a stealthy knack of getting things done right under our noses. I’ll open a drawer and see polished silver. I’ll return from the greenhouse and wonder while my gray grout is white and kitchen tile gleaming. I go upstairs to find a work shirt and stumble into a closet where clothing is folded, ironed and organized. I send her off to pick raspberries, and my next visit to the patch finds weeded pathways. She, and my sister and sister-in-law brought a much-loved, lichen and moss-covered garden swing back to a state of full utility and beauty. I must admit the energetic women in my family have the guys beat, big time.
Summer 2010: My Dad and brother Bill supervising the weeding crew.
Yep, I’m a lucky guy, lucky to have such caring family and friends in my life. Big thanks to Mom, sis, my sister-in-law and brother for a wonderful time and for your hard work and helping hand. The laughs will be well-remembered, your efforts always appreciated and your love, undeniably felt.
Taking a break: My good looking work crew cleans up nicely.
He’s not just a pretty face. My English Bulldog Boz also seems to have all the answers; and so I feel it is my duty as his wingman to share some of his bulldog wisdom, and perhaps further the cause of mankind. We need all the help we can get. Yep, everything I need to know, I learned from a bulldog.
1. No one ever need apologize for taking a nap.
Boz: “Uh, what are you lookin’ at?”
2. An apple a day keeps the veterinarian away.
Apples, apples good for your heart, the more you eat, the more you…
3. Real dogs cuddle.
Gracie: “Boz, is something wrong with your own bed?
4. Take time to smell the roses, and the lilies, and the…
My friend Dom celebrating the Fourth on the Washington coast with his family. (photo: Samantha Spencer)
Awaiting the arrival of the mini-hydroplanes, I’m on the porch with Boz. It’s 5:28 a.m. and while I can’t see the little waterborne wasps, I can hear the drone of their approach with increasing intensity. Wrapped in a self-fashioned cocoon of sheets, comforters and pillows, Gracie has commandeered the bed and is honoring the arrival of the Fourth of July by enjoying her freedom to sleep in. Boz and I are early risers and take in the nautical concert from our stoop a mile inland. Minutes later, the fleeting roar of the flotilla dissipates as the hydroplanes head north to circumnavigate the island. Waterfront cabins have been thoroughly shaken, their sleepy-eyed inhabitants roused and the day’s arrival announced. It’s official; the Fourth of July has staked its claim on Vashon Island for the remaining daylight hours and then some. May we enjoy its simple pleasures: friends, food, lawns and gardens, fireworks and flags, remembrances and laughter, and honor the good work of our fellow citizens who make this country and the world a better place.
Boz keeping an eye out for approaching patriots.
Happy Fourth of July, my friends. Safe travels and full hearts.
PS- Here’s the All-American dessert I’m making for tonight: Plum Buckle, but no plums yet so I’m using apricots and sour cherries.
Fruit buckle, apricot in this case: my favorite summer cake.
The clock reveals an early hour, and yet I feel rested. Birds court through song. Boz snores deeply and with conviction under the sole ray of sunshine gracing the porch. The modern world awakes; sounds of approaching cars wane within seconds, the distant din of a jet makes me wonder what adventures await the travelers onboard. Under my big leaf maple, the morning gives way to light and shadows, and the promise of a day well spent.
Lesson 2: Ripening times can determine crop yield.
I venture to say, there is not a crow or robin on Vashon Island innocent of thievery in the case of cherries. What I’ve found though is the local orchardist has a better chance of harvesting cherries if he or she plants late harvest varieties. Birds devour early-ripening cherries; late-ripening cherry cultivars, not so much. For example, the cherry tree branch in the top photo is Lapins, a sweet bing-like cherry that ripens later than the Stella cultivar, which is shown in photo below it. When my Stella cherries ripen early, the birds are relentless and strip the tree of cherries with a fervor similar to me removing kernels from an ear of corn. Three to fours weeks later, the Lapins cherries are ready, but there’s plenty of fodder for the birds, including wild cherries, so the robins and crows tend to ignore the Lapins’ ladened limbs. If I had to do it over again, I would only plant mid-summer to late ripening cherry trees.
Lesson 3: Never turn your back on a kiwi vine.
One day I had lunch on my porch; the next day, this fuzzy kiwi vine had reserved the table. (Cheeky little bugger.)
Lesson 4: Gravity always wins.
My massive dining room mirror worked tirelessly for two years to test Newton’s universal law of gravitation. It succeeded in proving the theory last night.(No bulldogs were injured in the experiment, but one homeowner was found crying in the corner.) Of course, there are many lessons to be learned here, not just one. For example, no matter how big the nail, locating a stud always takes precedence over the need to center the object on the wall. Of course, this could be an inside job, perhaps my farm house was telling me something; neoclassical design has no place here. (It may have a point.)
Lesson 5: Hugs and Kisses, truly never misses. (O – X – O)
Sometimes when melancholy’s afoot, the universe conjures up a little encouragement. It’s best to always pay attention.
Life’s lessons keep on coming. At this rate, I should be a genius in a couple more years. I’ll keep you posted on my progression: things I learned, the never-ending story. 😉
Junk mail and newspapers are two of my best crops, sprouting up everywhere inside the house, covering surfaces like kudzu. Solution: shredded paper as garden mulch. Before you hyperventilate and say, “NO! NO! NO! It robs the soil of nitrogen, adds toxins, and is ugly as hell, hear me out. My research suggests otherwise, well at least on the first two counts.
Mulching is a great idea
I’m an ardent believer in mulching the garden. In my cutting garden, I use grass clippings as a garden mulch around my zinnias, sunflowers and dahlias. What is mulching? It’s simply the practice of adding a loose organic material to the top layer of garden soil. Nestled around each plant but not touching stems or trunks, mulch protects the plant from competing weeds and dry soil conditions. Material options range from wood chips, to pine bark, to grass clippings and straw, and in the case before you, shredded paper.
Look Mom, grass clippings and no weeds!
Good Reasons to Add Mulch to Your Garden
Reduces weed seed germination and growth
Conserves water by slowing surface evaporation.
Adds nutrients to the soil through slow decomposition.
Regulates soil temperature as an insulation layer.
Saves gardeners from constantly having to pull weeds.
Recycles garden waste and paper products.
Softens to become edible worm bedding
Birds love it for foraging for insects.
Cheeky little zinnias feeling neglected.
See what happens when you don’t weed or hoe your garden; the weed seeds see an opportunity.
A weeded bed is a happy garden bed (at least most of the time).
One day I was planning a trip to the recycling station on the island to drop off three bags of shredded paper. Before I left, I did a little research and discovered the pulpy stuff can make a great garden mulch. There was one caveat in most articles: don’t shred and use highly-colored ads, or glossy promo materials. While most inks are soy-based and safe for gardening use, hyper-colored printed materials may be still using metallic inks for the bold effect. So for that reason, I don’t add colored ad inserts or glossy magazines.
Take that, junk mail and flyers!
First, pull weeds from the area, and then place the mulch around the plants. A light watering afterward will keep the paper from blowing around and also act to keep it together as a matted layer of mulch. As far as shredded paper robbing nitrogen from the soil, as a top layer this doesn’t really happen. Just like leaves on the forest floor, decomposition is slow and beneficial. As far as adding toxins to the soil, research tends to support not using glossy and highly-colored paper materials. So recycle those catalogs and glossy magazines.
Tucked in for the summer
While I have to admit, shredded is paper is not garden-tour pretty, you can also add a top dressing of grass clippings or bark mulch to make it more presentable.
It’s a good day to pull weeds (almost convinced).
Summer is here, and I’m always trying to find ways to lessen the daily workload of gardening and farming activities. Mulching is one way I save time from pulling weeds and watering. And besides, I can’t convince any neighborhood kids that it’s a fun pastime, no matter what the hourly rate of pay.
Boz wants to be on record as saying this is one of my most boring topics to date.
My advanced cellphone: a cordless land line with a clip.
Early adopter I am not. Here it is 2014, and I have yet to embrace the smartphone and the technology that spread like a virus to every digit in the hand and land. Okay maybe that’s a little strong, but I have to ask myself am I comfortable with a tool that will affront my comfort levels of privacy and courtesy in the name of convenience and accessibility to kitten videos? Go ahead mock me, call me a laggard, but I argue some advances seem good to begin with and then they consume your life before you can text “OMG.”
Even with my feet firmly planted in Geezer-ville, I’m sure one day I will succumb to the need to be electronically leashed and connected to the entire planet, but for now I prefer conversation to texting, and eye contact to distraction. And if I may be totally candid, my frugality plays a role in the decision to be smartphone free. The idea of paying over one-thousand dollars a year for the privilege of being available 24/7 is as unpalatable to me as the cost of printer ink cartridges.
In my defense, I do like some advancements. For instance, I found a solution for missing my landline calls when I’m out in the orchard or garden. I secured a clip to my cordless phone, allowing it to affix nicely to my uniform du jour, a white v-neck t-shirt. I’ve quadrupled my range (when I remember to wear it). I’m now available all the way out to the pear trees, half way back to the greenhouse and comfortably lounging in my hammock (though bulldog snoring does cause me to repeat myself on occasion).
By adding a pocket clip to my cordless phone, I’ve increased my reception range about 150 feet in each direction. Now that is progress (at least for me). And just in case you are wondering, yes, I do have electricity and indoor plumbing.
No doubt, I am the largest, most flightless, furless bumblebee around, but a man’s got to do what a man’s got to do, especially if he wants peaches in the Pacific Northwest. So with dry paintbrush in hand, I visit my peach trees each spring and try to coax them into a little hanky-panky with another tree’s not-so-private parts, all for the promise of some fruit at summer’s end. (Here’s that story: He’s a Cool Pollinator.)
The trouble is I must face reality. As prodigious a pollinator as I am, Mother Nature still does a much, much better job, especially when given a fighting chance. Native pollinators, everything from birds to bees to butterflies to beetles, play a vital role in sustaining our food supply and native plants. How can you help? There are countless ways. I heartily recommend checking out this really amazing non-profit site Pollinator Partnership where experts share ways to attract pollinators and the steps you can take to improve pollinator habitat in your neck of the woods.
These online regional guides are amazingly detailed and helpful.
Visit the first link below and submit your zip code to see the informative guide for your area (and it’s downloadable, too).
It is imperative that we take immediate steps to help pollinator populations thrive. The beauty of the situation is that by supporting pollinators’ need for habitat, we support our own needs for food and support diversity in the natural world. –Laurie Davies Adams, Pollinator Partnership
Happy Gardening! And take a little time to learn how you can protect and pamper your pollinators by visiting the Pollinator Partnership.
A short walk down the road from me, in a house just as charming as its residents, Megan and Adam live a love story that I never tire of witnessing, basking in or admiring. As you pass through a cave of lofty conifers toward the front gate, the dogs announce your arrival well before the drop pin hits the latch. In the clearing, a storybook cottage stands as if plucked from the Cotswolds or the pages of a Beatrice Potter book. Every square inch says welcome, which comes as no surprise considering Adam and Megan call it home.
Further up the road just south of town, Megan and Adam share their love story with the rest of the world in their island eatery Snapdragon Bakery & Cafe. Yeasty goodness and simmering effusions envelop the room, and the open kitchen is filled with the spirited conversation between cooks and cookware. Not a place for skimpy or stingy serving sizes, I’m surprised the pastry case shelves don’t buckle under the weight of Adam’s creations. And while the baked goods and vegetarian cuisine shine brightly, they must also share double billing with the other stars of the establishment, Megan and Adam.
This is where I take all day to decide. Adam is a patient man.
Some places are purely business. You get the feeling that your contract with the counter staff is to order, eat, and get out. Snapdragon is different, very different. If Vashon Island has a living room or parlor, Snapdragon Bakery is it. Adam and Megan have taken a space and brought it to life with a generosity, kindness and authenticity that spoils me on a regular basis. (I do like my pastries.)
Snapdragon, you had me at grilled cheese. (photos: Snapdragon Bakery)
In the back, they’ve created an inviting garden patio for a weather condition we Pacific North Westerners rejoice in: not raining. And in a connecting space adjacent to the bakery, you’ll find another of their valentines to the community: Hastings Cone Gallery. I love this line from Adam, “We’re finally making use of our art education, which is, of course, the reason why we cook.”
Delicious on all levels
And where there is food and art, let there be music, too. Megan and Adam welcome musicians to the Bakery Cafe regularly. Many a time I drop in for a bowl of soup and stay for a Saxophone solo. I grab sunflower seed bread to go, and then kill half the loaf an hour later after a set of Celtic tunes. In a world of fast food and power bars it’s nice to know there is a place where food brings great people, music and art together, and all without the diminishing effect of Wi-Fi.
Tom sandwich: my favorite menu item
Megan and Adam have a love story and I’m glad I know it. The day I sat on a straw bale and heard them say, “I do” I knew love would always be in the air and just down the street (not to mention in every croissant). Thank you for sharing your recipe for a joy, love, friendship and life.
At one time Vashon Island, Washington was the fruit and berry basket of Puget Sound. In fact, our biggest summer party, the Strawberry Festival, was established in 1909 to celebrate the harvest and export of 120,000 crates of island strawberries. Today the island is more forest than field, which is even more of reason to support the efforts and bounty of local farmers. Here at Tall Clover Farm, I’m in the beginning stages of growing some viable crops and fruits for my own to-be farm stand. So in the meantime, let me share with you some of my favorite Vashon Island farm stands, stocked by local hard-working islanders, who not only grow great food, but sustain a community and way of life that honors the past, and looks to the future. Check each farm’s links below for locations, products, newsletters and updates.
Jasper and Will are passionate about growing healthy food and rely on cover crops, compost, mulches, and sustainable practices to bring their produce to market. Their stand is tucked up the drive on their farm and offers the season’s best. And Will is a talented artist and may have some printed cards for sale as well.
Hogsback Farm is a small family farm located on the North end of Vashon Island. Brian uses sustainable techniques to grow a wide variety of vegetables and fruits and is committed to using organic growing methods to produce healthy food. In the summer, they have a sweet little cutting garden for flower fans.
Greg and Caitlin’s farm stand is open year round, and a great place to stop for what’s in season, from brassicas in March, to snap peas in May to some ridiculously sweet tomatoes in August. And if you are a great ‘kraut, Greg practically has a cult following for his raw, probiotic sauerkraut. And once you’ve had one of their farm-fresh eggs, you’ll never touch a store-bought egg again.
Karen is a force of nature, and her farm stand is a wonderfully eclectic mix of produce, homemade foods, and farm products. In summer months look for her mobile wood fired pizza oven set up just south of the The Roasterie on Vashon Highway. Karen is all about bringing food and friends together to enjoy a fine meal. Now if I could just get Karen to sell her gnocchi. 😉
A farmer and her pizza oven, a match made in heaven!
Vashon, WA 98070
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Langley Fine Gardens
I joke with Leda and Matt that their farm is on the edge of the earth, way down on Maury Island. But really the joke is on me, as it takes all of 13 minutes from my house near town. We get spoiled on the island by close proximity. The scenic drive to their farm stand takes you along Quartermaster harbor and to historic Dockton. I love their homestead and greenhouses, and they usually have a pumpkin picking patch in the fall.
Vashon, WA 98070
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Pacific Crest
Pacific Crest is another seasonal gem, offering a variety of produce, food and flowers right on your way to Dockton. Jen runs the farm and makes it look easy, with produce prettier than a photo shoot. In the fall, Pacific Crest, usually has fresh chestnuts which I always look forward to roasting and pureeing as a spread.
Farm intern Emily gets the stand ready for the market.
Michelle grows some amazing salad greens and lip-smacking heirloom tomatoes. Early in the season, her farm produces thousands of vegetable starts hardened off for our climate. Michelle is really an expert at knowing what grows well and tastes good. One season I purchased six different varieties of kale after the deer mowed my crop down. She’s also known of her extensive list of tomato starts available beginning in May, surely worth a trip for the home gardener.
Pacific Potager: Michelle just may have the greenest thumb on the island.
I could just stop at Rob and Joanne’s place to talk to them — one of the nicest families around. Their farm stand is open all year and features certified organic produce, and farm-fresh eggs. I’m especially fond of their carrots and little mirabelle plums in the summer and sour cherry jam (when available). Rob’s salad mix is an island favorite.
Joe and Celina have a stand at the Harbor Mercantile in Burton during the growing season. They also sell produce at the Farmers Market in our town center on Saturdays. I venture to say there’s nothing these two can’t grow well. From flawless white turnips, to crunchy cucumbers to sweet strawberries, Sun Island Farm is a trip to bountiful. Did I mention their daughters bake a mean pumpkin pie?
Vashon Village Green is the place to be each Saturday as the Farmers Market comes to life with produce, crafts art, music and community. Most of the farms listed here also sell at the Farmers Market. Hours are usually 10 am – 2 pm. Here’s a List of Farmers and Crafters.
I love island artist Marcia McKenzie’s sassy chicken in this 2013 poster.
Ron Irvine is a grape growing pioneer and award-wining winemaker. Lucky for us he lives and works on Vashon Island. His wines are not to be missed, and tastings are offered. And should you be cider fan (as am I), Ron has you covered too! Palouse Winery is also another good stop on for fine island-made wines and friendly enophiles.
Thanks to a little spray of Liquid Fence, Mr. Buck ignores my young peach tree’s tender tips.
Remember the first time the magic of Disney brought us Bambi and his ilk? We never saw the dark side of our little antlered friends did we; the one where they sneak about the night bounding over any obstacle shorter than a Winnebago, smug in the fact that they can devour a drift of daisies, a row of roses, and a lane of lilies before their two-legged, big-brained, thumb-endowed foes so much as pour their first cup of coffee. And while I am planning my imaginary all-venison buffet, they are reclining in some shaded glen drawing up their own menu of late night snacks to be had in my pastoral, well-stocked outdoor larder. In the words of another cartoon character (that of one lisping cartoon duck), “This means war!”
When it comes to protecting my garden from deer, I enlist a two-prong approach: fencing and repellent. Some friends opt for a third option, dogs with outside access. It seems the presence of a territorial wolf-like carnivore works wonders on persuading deer to focus on neighbors’ homesteads instead of yours. Unfortunately, my two well-fed bullies have little interest in deer other than a couple half-hearted growls from the front porch. The deer are on to them.
“Oh yeah, we see the deer. What do you want us to do?”
I have found deer repellents to be quite successful in thwarting grazing deer, though you do need to consider weather for spray longevity and effectiveness. The stuff works great in dry weather, but must be reapplied after strong rain storms. I keep a spray bottle of Liquid Fence deer repellent by my back door, and take it with me on almost every stroll around the property, spraying here and there to protect the unprotected, and to help ‘train’ the deer that some plants are off limits. I’ve found the deer do learn and form habits about what tastes good and what tastes bad, and they do have favorites. To deer, any rose or plant in the Rosa genus is the human equivalent of fine asparagus tips roasted in butter and drenched in hollandaise sauce.
The afternoon lunch crowd thwarted by the deer fence around my orchard.
Fencing tends to be the best solution in creating a deer-free parcel. For my large cutting garden, vegetable garden and orchard, I’ve installed an 8-foot plastic deer fence held up by zip-ties on t-posts every ten feet. For the gate, I simply attach hooked bungee cords to the fence end to secure the opening. In most cases, deer opt for the lowest hanging fruit so to speak, and find it easier to forage than to try to breech a fence. It’s worked for me ten years, that is when I remember to keep the gate closed. My mainstay rule, no matter what, always close the gate behind you. It’s safe to say, the night you forget, the deer will remember.
I want to thanks the folks at Dog Fence DIY for sending me a bottle of Liquid Deer Fence to try out and review. It really does work, as my rescued quince, cherry, and maple trees will vouch. Check out their review which I find to be ernest and spot on.
Deer damage: the ugly truth (clockwise from top left) tulips, grape vine, fig branch, fig tree, apricot, and apple.
