Tall Clover Farm

Easy Peasy Crockpot Apple Butter

Recipes

Tom

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October 31, 2016

apple-apple-butter — Before and after: patience pays off

Apple butter on the stove is a sure sign of full-throttle autumn activities around here. With boxes and bags of apples begging to be peeled, cored, chopped and cooked, apple cake, jam, jelly, sauce and butter can’t be too far behind. The trouble with making apple butter is its tendency to burn once the mixture (somewhat of a slurry) thickens. And in my world, disappointment is defined by a home cook whose time and ingredients have been wasted. In just saying “no” to scorched pot bottoms, I’ve moved my apple butter heating source from stockpot to crockpot.

Because apple butter begins as a fancified form of applesauce, it takes hours of low heat to reduce the soggy slog to a more refined state of stay-put spreadability and creaminess. The process really becomes more about evaporation than high-heat cooking. You just can’t rush apple butter. And that’s why the crockpot is the perfect solution, freeing you from stove-side stirring and monitoring, while maintaining consistently low temperatures. And as a bonus, steaming apple butter is the world’s best potpourri. By the end of the day, I wanted to start chewing my throw pillows. Even folks around town took note, “Why Tom, you smell like apple pie.” I’m never washing that sweater, again.

Apple butter clutter: peeler, food processor, and crockpot

If you’ve never made apple butter, it’s a great preserves recipe to start with as most other fruit jams and jellies take a little more of a learning curve to finesse and shine. Once all of the ingredients are combined, cooking, time and a little stirring do the rest. When the mixture bubbles into spreadable territory, you’re done. Eat now or jar it up for later!

left to right clockwise, peel, chop — Peel, add ingredients, process until smooth

Crockpot Apple Butter

Easy to make
Simple ingredients
No standing over a stove
No burning or scorching
Add spices and flavorings you like
Heat low and slow: In the crockpot apple butter reduces itself in its own time.

Crockpot Apple Butter R

Easy Peasy Apple Butter

Print recipe

Ingredients

6lb apples (peeled and cored)
1 quart apple cider
2 cups brown sugar
1 tablespoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon nutmeg (freshly grated)
1/4 teaspoon cloves
1/4 teaspoon allspice

Note

Apple butter is one those recipes that welcomes many flavors and spices to the mix. Sometimes I add different extracts, liqueurs and spices in the final stages of reduction (like calvados, and cardamon). It's really up to you to create the flavor notes in the apple butter. Whether simple or complex, it's all delicious.

Directions

Step 1
Wash, peel, core and chop apples.
Step 2
Add all ingredients to food processor or blender, and puree. This could take a few batches, based on machine's capacity.
Step 3
Cook apple mixture in crockpot on low, lid on, overnight or for 6-8 hours (no hard fast rule). Again, may take a couple batches based on crockpot size.
Step 4
Remove crockpot lid to increase evaporation, cook for several more hours, stirring every once in while to keep mixture homogenous and creamy.
Step 5
When the mixture is thick and no longer runny or soupy it's done. Place apple butter in jars and seal in water bath for at least ten minutes. I don't recommend reducing sugar as it acts as a preservative.

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Buddy and I bid you adieu, and say, "Happy cooking!" — Buddy and I bid you adieu, and say, “Happy cooking!”

Bringing Up Buddy

Buddy

Tom

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October 21, 2016

34

Our sorely-missed Sou’wester winds have returned to slog the island, hellbent on casting leaves like confetti, reviving moss to its rightfully green state, and painting each pane with raindrops and rivulets. The world is dark outside my windows, the drizzle present, and the chill, impatient. I write from my kitchen nook, on an old oak table with Buddy at and on my feet. He’s snoring quietly and comfortably while the din of the downspout sets a tempo to his breathing and repose. My toes are kept warm by this 65-pound beanbag who takes up more room than one would suspect, but I’m not complaining. In fact, Buddy has grown to fill the house both in presence and with his loving and bombastic personality.

Put down the camera and play with me! — Put down the camera and come play with me!

It’s hard to believe I adopted this big lug close to a year ago. Buddy went from apartment living to plodding the porch and parlors of an old farmhouse with acres to explore (supervised, of course). For the first few months, we got to know each other, and in that time, he learned that a butt rub is a whimper away, that treats are stored in a coffee tin, and that I’m basically a total pushover. As for me, I’ve learned that Buddy is the most congenial fellow, neither growling nor posturing toward any soul or beast, always happy to see you, me, the neighbor and the stranger whether two-legged, four-legged or festooned with feathers and sporting a beak.

Buddy stealing kisses — Buddy stealing scenes and kisses

Buddy operates as if playtime is anytime, and that the only worthwhile interruption is mealtime, treats, or a walk, or ride in the truck. If I pick up any object whether heavy like a hammer or slight like a sock, all bets are off for me completing the intended duty; it’s tug-of-war time for the big guy and Tom’s chore list goes on life support. (Did I mention that I was a pushover?) Buddy’s been weaned off of fine leather footwear, and now focuses mainly on black plastic nursery pots, ropes, and raw bones, though it doesn’t take much for him to find new teething treasures when introduced. (Yogurt containers are this week’s preferred chew toy.) My workboots, offerings any time they are off my feet, are gathered up by Buddy and stacked in prominent piles around the house, like tributes. Any time I return home, Buddy greets me with a boot.

chewtoy — Floral buckets: On Buddy’s chew-toy bucket list

If Vashon Island had a version of the Hollywood Walk of Fame, Buddy would surely have his own star. He’s known at all storefronts, and by all shopkeepers. I fear Buddy’s treat habit may imperil Vashon Ace Hardware’s profit margins. At Snapdragon Bakery, Buddy knows the regulars (make that the marks) who save him flakey tidbits should he happen to drop by with that Tom fellow. It’s not uncommon to hear, “Hey, Buddy!” shouted from a passing car, and for approaching strollers to request a pet or two. Buddy is more than willing to accommodate, and quickly backs in, just in case you didn’t know where to start first. (All roads lead to the butt rub.)

Buddy wants a place at the table, and on the table as well.

Buddy beams an effortless charisma. Even when I had Boz and Gracie around (the Cary Grant and Greta Garbo of bulldogs, respectively) folks didn’t make a fuss over them like they do Buddy. He’s a joyful jester wrapped in fur, and that is not lost on any onlooker. In my truck, he hangs out the window so daringly that I’m afraid the flaps and folds of his skin will launch him like a kite. Any drive to town quickly prompts an oncoming motorcade of smiles. The big guy is hard to miss and hard not to love.

Buddy riding shotgun — Buddy goes windsurfing

There are times when Buddy sleeps, like now on this early morning, that I think of Boz and Gracie, and my first dog Maggie and the fond memories and times we enjoyed. I miss them dearly, but know Buddy shares their legacy of love and companionship in his own way and on his own terms. Yes, he’s his own dog, an original, and I’m happy to report Buddy has found a forever home at Tall Clover, taking permanent residence on the farm and in my heart.

buddy-and-tom — Tom and Buddy after putting in a good day at Tall Clover Farm

Tabletop Flowers: Dahlias Without Water

Gardening

Tom

-

October 6, 2016

18

Rachel's Floral Dreamscape — A floral dreamscape worthy of the couple in love

I had the pleasure of providing flowers for a friend’s wedding this summer, and in the process learned a thing or two about tabletop floral displays, namely that dahlia blossoms perform beautifully out of water. Who knew? I also learned that some love seems as natural, and effortless as breathing. Congratulations Rachel and Dan!

The bride and groom invited their friends and family to a welcoming outdoor venue boasting open fields flanked by towering firs and dotted with teepees and buildings of rustic charm. When my friend Nancy, the mother of the bride, told me of her idea for a tablescape (my ten-cent florist term), I was skeptical that it would work. In my mind, all I could see was a table-length trail of wilted, flattened, mostly dead flowers.

Weeks before the wedding, when I first I heard of the floral plan, I wanted to say, “Ummmm, that just won’t work.” But before this big flower farmer ogre dashed anyone’s dreams of a dream wedding, I thought it best to reframe my opposition into experimentation with the flowers in question. How long would a dahlia look good out of water? Well, I’m no flower physicist, but I did my best to enlist my tabletop laboratory for a little dry run (so to speak).

I simply cut a variety of dahlias in full bloom, removed the stem, and arranged them face up on my front porch table. I expected noodle-soft petals within hours. Instead here’s what I found: healthy, bright dahlias, completely intact and without a wilted petal among the lot. Take a look for yourself.

Dahlias Without Water Experiment

dahlias without water just cut — Freshly cut dahlias (left to right): Alfred Grille, Bantling, Eveline, American Dawn; bottom row, Thomas Edison, Big Brother, and Cafe au Lait.

After Six Hours

dahlias-without-water-six-hours — Six hours later, the dahlias still look great, no wilting or dehydration.

After 24 Hours

dahlias-out-of-water-for-one-day — One day later and the dahlias still look remarkably fresh. The larger decorative informal type on the bottom row have a few droopy outer petals. The upper row, pompom and ball dahlias, fare even better with smaller, stiffer petals and compact size.

After 48 Hours

Dahlias without water day 2 — I was quite surprised that even after two days out of water, the dahlias still had a welcomed place at the table (make that, on the table).

There you have it: Dahlias without water, and a wonderful way to decorate a table. Vases need not apply.

And while I love dahlias, these two bright blooms really stole the show.

Keeping Vashon Neighborly

Vashon Living

Tom

-

September 29, 2016

38

vashon-welcoming-committee — A friendly dockside welcome, circa 1910.

After a recent trip to Seattle, I sat on the ferry feeling as though I had visited the moons of Jupiter, or at least been witness to the Northwest equivalent of the bar scene in Star Wars. I didn’t recognize Seattle and she didn’t recognize me. My favorite city had become an alien place, one where my beloved personal landmarks were disappearing, where my old neighborhood was unrecognizable and where folks on the street and in their cars found me too slow and in the way. And for the first time while in downtown Seattle, I felt underdressed. Island attire had no place in Pacific Place.

I made the mistake of trying to chat with someone in line for coffee, and based on her response, I feared horns had sprouted from my head, or perhaps I had forgotten to remove my fright wig and fangs. No, Dorothy, I was not in Kansas anymore.

Have I mentioned I live on an island? Make no mistake, this little marker in the middle of Puget Sound is very special to me, and I feel the journey to make it here has been half the gift. Sometimes I gush enthusiastically about Vashon; other times I quietly reflect upon island moments with a reverence usually reserved for love letters.

Sure, not everyone swoons over living on “The Rock.” This place can be a prison for some and a sanctuary for others. Peering over the fence as a will-be geezer, I embrace the latter perspective. Seattle was a fine fling in my 20s, 30s and even 40s; the city lavished me with the indulgences of youth, but now I can’t keep up (and I tend to get lost). And besides, Seattle’s just not that into me anymore. The city’s moved on, and I wish her well.

Vashon is truly home, and while “Keep Vashon Weird” is a funny bumper sticker, the island is much more than that. Rest assured, our well for the weird will never go dry, so my bumper sticker choice would be “Keep Vashon Neighborly.” I’d add “and Welcoming,” but that (like me) would be too verbose.

We live in a place where the natural beauty is blinding, and you’d think that would be enough. But what makes “the heart of Puget Sound” special is the heart of its people. I live on an island where a local business took their entire staff to Europe because they could, where you can’t toss a harmonica without hitting a musician, where a nod on the street gets a friendly, “hello,” where farmers share their bounty roadside, where generous donors support island needs, where orca sightings turn us all into giddy children and where the potluck is a time-honored tradition and high art form.

I like where I live. I like the folks I call my friends and neighbors. I enjoy the kindness of strangers, the tellers of old stories, the smiles on familiar faces and the willingness of Vashon folks to welcome those who come to our shores.

May Vashon never become a place of “us” and “them,” but remain a destination where the question of, “Where are you from?” elicits a conversation, not a distance.

For each day we all face challenges, quietly carrying the burdens of worry, sadness, loss or letdown with us like spare change in our pockets. While some pockets are more laden than others, rattling and jingling with each step, I venture to say we all share empathy and kinship in wanting to make things better, not only for ourselves, but for others. That is what I love about Vashon Island and that to me is what makes it a special. We are an island family. Some of us may have more seniority and bragging rights, but we all have a place around the table.

I penned the following piece for The Vashon Beachcomber, as my Op-Ed regarding keeping Vashon Island neighborly and welcoming even in the midst of growth and change. No place is perfect, but we all seek a measure of where we can feel whole, loved and at home. May we each find such a place in our hearts and minds, and if fortunate enough, also down the block, around the corner, and in the everyday. Thanks for visiting my friends.

Homeward bound courtesy of a Washington State Ferry — Homeward bound via Washington State Ferry

North Ferry Dock Vashon — Southern exposure from the north end ferry dock

Letting the light shine from within — When a little light shines from within on a foggy morning.

Last year's farm motto: Walk softly and carry a big zucchini — Island ways: Speak softly and carry a big zucchini.

The friendly and beguling witches of Burton — The friendly and beguiling witches of Burton on Halloween.

bulldog buddy — Buddy and I wish you warmth wherever you call home.

I Grow Dahlias, Dahlias Galore

Gardening

Tom

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September 11, 2016

30

dahlias galore — The earth laughs in flowers. -Ralph Waldo Emerson

Let’s talk Dahlias! I try not to play favorites with flowers. Sure, a spring peony can unfurl seemingly unmatched, that is until I spot a dreamy rose moonlighting as a perfumed pillow of petals. Oh wait, would you take a look at that lily, such stature, such fragrance, such gradations in color. Yep for me, picking a favorite flower is a lot like picking a favorite ice cream flavor, slice of pie or work of art. So many options, so little time.

But this time of year (late summer), the dahlias flatten the competition, serving up the garden equivalent of the final ten minutes of a Fourth of July fireworks display. The show’s colorful, varied, dramatic, bombastic, and stands alone as other garden performers retire early to drop leaves and don seeds.

My flower farm leans heavily on the dahlia as a cut flower, so I’d like to share some of my favorite dahlia blossoms, guaranteed to brighten any day or elicit a little wonder in the beholder’s eye. Some of the grander dames of dahlia-dom are cultivated in my greenhouse, for earlier bloom and later dormancy.

watering dahlias — Watering by hand before I put in drip hoses.

Dahlias planted in the front field weave a crazy quilt of color row by row. Here, I test out many different varieties for stem length, vase life, razzle dazzle, vigor and disease resistance. Because I sell the dahlias to florists and islanders alike, I work to select and grow viewer-worthy dahlias, ones with a little more mojo than your average tuber.

Penhill Watermelon (tubers from Longfield Gardens), one of this year’s star dahlias, is all about remarkable colors and expressive petals. The plant is especially vigorous, too!

Cafe au Lait dahlias (far left) find their way into more bridal bouquets than any other dahlia I grow.
Mango Madness, Purple Haze, Fusiana, and Brigitta Alita (top, left to right)Labyrinth Dahlia, like summer fireworks

I arranged a little still life of Cafe au Lait dahlias for Snapdragon Bakery and Cafe, and placed it in front of a stunning John Anderson photograph. (I’m competing with some seriously good-looking pastries, afterall.)

DAHLIAS: SUPPLIERS

*denotes bulb suppliers I have used and been very happy with. The other suppliers also get good reviews online, I just haven’t purchased from them, yet.

Here’s a great resource from the site Dave’s Garden: Guide to Gardening by Mail, Mail Order Gardening, and Catalog.

Happy Growing!

Mirabelle Plum: Nature’s Little Gumdrop

Growing Fruit

Tom

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August 23, 2016

24

mirabelle plums nature gumdrop — Mirabelle plums: Orchard candy for the picking

I like to try out fruit trees like some folks enjoy trying on shoes. So many fruit trees, so little time, and with each success, failure has likely played its part. As with shoes, you don’t ask a loafer to go hiking, or a sandal to play basketball, nor do you ask a fruit tree to grow where it’s not intended nor happy with the elements.

Of all the fruits, I grow, I’d have to say apples and plums are the most adaptable and at home in the maritime Pacific Northwest growing season. So far the tree has withstood heavy winter rains, summer drought, and far-from-optimal conditions for spring pollination, and yet it produced well in its third year here—a year where Mirabelle plums dangled off the branches like little gumdrops looking for a candy dish.

In France, the mirabelle plum enjoys a cult status, and is as welcome a summer treat as sweet corn, peaches and watermelon are in the U.S. The snack-size, freestone plum, not too sweet, not too tart, can be eaten out of hand or used in several culinary iterations: jam, brandy, and baked goods for starters.

Next to a peach or a yellow egg plum, the pint-size Mirabelle plum blushes in comparative size.

I’ve listed some resources regarding the Mirabelle plum, from mail order nurseries to favorite recipes. You may wish to consider one for your backyard orchard.

Mirabelle Plum Nursery Sources (mail order)

Mirabelle Plum Recipes:

Growing Plums

Peach Melba Pie Takes Center Stage

Recipes

Tom

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August 15, 2016

20

French chef and restaurateur Auguste Escoffier created the original Peach Melba dessert in honor of 1890s songbird Nellie Melba. (Melba toast is another story.) The simple, albeit spot-on fresh fruit dessert calls for the inspired pairing of raspberries and peaches, pureed and poached, respectively. I’ve made it many times before because it’s 1) delicious, 2) easy to make, 3) ice cream worthy, 4) fruity, and 5) rarely disappointing the diner or the chef.

peach melba pie making — Peach Melba Pie: Some Assembly Required

And then, the light bulb went off for me (dim as it may sometimes be). Why not make a pie featuring the fruits of Peach Melba, especially since I have both on hand and even more especially because I love pie. I have to say the pairing never ceases to delight me, whether on the plate and on the palate.

peach melba pie dough — Adding richness: Can you see the little beads of melted butter throughout the pie?

I basically took my favorite Deluxe Peach Pie recipe and adapted it by adding raspberries and removing a few ingredients like the cinnamon and nutmeg. This fruit combo needs no help or muddling in the flavoring department.

For this pie, I used Sierra Rich peaches and Tulameen raspberries (homegrown, but frozen).

Oops, this is what I call pie overfill: a little too much of a good filling. The raspberries are juicy little gems, so place the pie on a lined baking sheet to spare your oven from billowing smoke plumes and burned bits on its bottom.

Finishing touch: I paint the top crust with milk and dust with granulated sugar before baking for a crispy, sugary golden top crust. For a glossier finish, you can mix up a whole egg or egg yolk with equal parts milk and paint that on the top crust before baking. And now for the Peach Melba Pie recipe…

Peach Melba Pie

Print recipe

Ingredients

3/4 cups sugar ((3/4 cup))
5 ripe peaches (thick slices)
1 cup raspberries (fresh or frozen)
3 tablespoons cornstarch
1/2 teaspoon almond extract ((optional))
1/4 teaspoon kosher salt
3 tablespoons butter (melted)
1 lime (juiced)

Directions

Step 1
Preheat oven to 425 degrees F. Cut peaches into thick slices (about six per half). Leave the skins on, they dissolve in the baking process anyway, so save a step.
Step 2
Place sliced peaches and raspberries in a bowl, add sugar. Stir to mix. Add remaining ingredients to fruit mixture.
Step 3
Add filling to chilled pie dough in a 9-inch pie plate or pan. Don't overfill, as this is one juicy pie. Cover filling with lattice top or double crust top with air vents.
Step 4
Bake on center shelf for 15 minutes at 425 degree F, and then reduce heat to 350 degrees F. Bake until juices bubble in the middle of the pie. May take over an hour and then some. If only bubbling around the edges of the pie, the center is not done. Be patient. 😉
Step 5
Let stand for at least 4 hours to cool and take a more solid texture. If sliced when warm, the filling will run. And don't reheat the pie, as it will make the crust weaken and become soggy.

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And here’s a link to the fancy little tool that creates this type of lattice top.

Great gadget for under $10.

Nanaimo Peach Tree: Winner in the Maritime Northwest

Growing Fruit

Tom

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July 30, 2016

44

Nanaimo Peach Tree: Winner in the Maritime Northwest

Spend a few minutes on my blog perusing summer posts, and you’ll easily grasp my love of growing and eating fresh fruit, and note my undeniable love of the peach, especially. Well after twelve years of trying to harvest a decent peach on an island better suited for cloud-cover, lichen, moss and raindrop cultivation, I have found a peach variety that stands up to such conditions with juicy aplomb: the Nanaimo Peach.

homegrown nanaimo peaches — Nanaimo peaches: sweet as candy!

The Nanaimo peach is a peach leaf curl resistant variety from Canada. Its namesake island city, three hours to the north on Vancouver Island, shares a similar climate to Vashon Island, Washington, where I live. Nanaimo is also known around these parts for a delicious baked confection born from the kitchens of this harbor city: the Nanaimo bar, a three-layered bar cookie worthy of a swoon or two. Ah but I digress, back to the peach.

I planted this Nanaimo peach about five years ago, and like most fruit trees, the first year it slept; the second year it crept; and the third year it leapt. And this year, well, I had a respectable harvest of peaches, 20 or so handsome orange orbs with few blemishes, and of medium size. And I grew these without a drop, spray or dusting of any pesticide.

You may ask what’s the big deal? Can’t you grow a peach tree just about anywhere? I fear the answer is no, no you can’t. In the coastal Pacific Northwest it’s a challenge, stemming from a shortage of heat units and poor pollinating conditions during spring bloom (namely incessant rain, the kind Seattle is famous for). Now, west of the Cascades on the sunny side of the state, the area boasts perfect peaches of prodigious proportions.

Why Nanaimo Is My Number One Peach Tree Choice

Truly Peach Leaf Curl (PLC) resistant
- the first couple years PLC will be present, but as the tree matures the tree seems to build greater resistance to the disease
Healthy Tree, few problems, vigorous grower
Pollinates readily even in less than desirable spring rains and cool temperatures
Seems to be self-pollinating
Deliciously sweet fruit (no bitterness or high acid aftertaste)
Easy to remove fruit from tree when ripe, a simple pull and light twist will release fruit
Drought tolerate, that is needs less water than my other orchard trees

What Peach Leaf Curl Looks Like

betty peach tree — Betty peach tree said, “I’m out of here” after one season.

The sad tree above, a peach tree cultivar named Betty, was sold and touted as a peach leaf curl resistant variety. I would dispute that selling point, as I’ve never had a peach tree succumb to peach leaf curl so quickly and die. And this tree is a mere ten feet away from the super-healthy, thriving Nanaimo peach tree. While their growing and site conditions were the same, the results were night and day.

Nanaimo Peach ripe — Nanaimo Peach: sweet, slightly fuzzy, and richly colored

So if you are looking for a backyard peach tree, I plead my case and share the evidence that Nanaimo Peach beats the leaves off other peach leaf curl resistant varieties, namely Frost, Avalon Pride, Oregon Free, Muir, and Q-1-8. I’m still quite fond of another resistant variety, a white peach named Charlotte.

Oh, and guess what I'm having for breakfast? — Peach Pie: the real breakfast of champions!

How about I leave you with two of my favorite peach recipes, and my well wishes:

Update: Also, I ordered the tree from One Green World Nursery.

Nanaimo Tree Sources: direct links (no promotion paid, just for your information)

I wouldn’t be surprised if other fruit tree nurseries offer it this next year, such as Burnt Ridge Nursery or Peaceful Valley Nursery.

The Bold, Brief Life of Brown Betty

Chickens

Tom

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July 21, 2016

27

beautiful — Fence and feather and fond memories of a fine-feathered friend

Sad news is a truth I’m wary of sharing, but my plucky hen Brown Betty deserves her day in the sun, and unfortunately a day in the sun is what did her in. As you may recall, the craftiest bird on the block, is, well was, my buff orpington, Brown Betty. A comely specimen of remarkable moxie, if a chicken can possess such a thing, Brown Betty was the Harriet Houdini of barnyard escape artists. It was not uncommon for me to put her back in the well-protected chicken yard three to four times a day. And somehow, some way, she would escape within mere minutes, but never when I was watching. She kept her escape portal(s) secret to me and apparently her fellow sister wives.

Some Hen

With an insatiable appetite for freedom and foraging, Brown Betty was constantly underfoot, ubiquitous as a barnyard pal can be, just shy of joining me for dinner. I’d turn and she’d be there, so close I’d have to step over her. Buddy even walked around her because she stood her ground. She could scratch up a worm, grub or seed like no one’s business, and then stare you down for a crouton chaser. My flower beds had no chance of full bloom with Brown Betty around.

At dusk the other day, when I returned home, I went to close up the coop, but no Brown Betty. She always made it back to the coop to roost, where she’d likely regale the girls with tales of the outside, and what they were missing. I looked in the greenhouse, no Brown Betty. I perused the rafters of the barn, no Miss B. I scanned the dust-bath divots under the blackberries, no buff maiden.

As I walked back to the house scratching my head as to where she could be, a blanket of feathers revealed the sad reality. Brown Betty had spent her last day free, but at a cost. I don’t need to share the specifics of what I saw, but I did search some chicken forums to determine what did her in. You see, predators have very specific styles of slaughter and consumption, and in this case all quills pointed to a bird of prey. I suspect Brown Betty didn’t know what hit her, which is something to be grateful for. Miss Betty spread her wings and saw the world; it’s just unfortunate that most of the world likes chicken.The next day I was taking a break on the hammock when a low flying (and I mean rooftop level) B-52-of-bird glided overhead as quiet as a whisper. The bald eagle maintained low altitude on its surveillance mission, heading west to the henhouse. All the chickens were in the confines of the netted chicken yard, so all were safe, silent and now hidden. A shadow that large does not portend well for small barnyard critters, as Brown Betty would have attested.

The eagle banked toward the sun and disappeared in its light, seemingly nonplussed by the absence of an easy dinner. I said, “That’s right, no drumsticks on the menu today. Move along, nothing to see here.” The chicken yard came back to life, but my good spirits were reticent to reappear. The loss of anything or anyone we like or love no matter how big or small, or minor or major takes time to heal. Some may think she was just a chicken, but I know better; she was Brown Betty, charmer of my chicken yard. Brown Betty scoffs at my deer fence protecting my greenhouse

Buddy and I will miss you, Brown Betty. May you rest in peace in a place where raptors are friends and grain is scattered freely. You were one fine, plucky gal.

brown betty watercolors chicken — My friends Catherine and Dana sent me this lovely homemade card in honor of Miss Brown Betty’s memory. Makes me smile, indeed.

Decanting Your Dinnerplate Dahlias

Gardening

Tom

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July 9, 2016

7

Serving up some dinnerplate dahlias

Dinnerplate Dahlias Big Brother, Cafe au Lait, Fleurel — Dinnerplate Dahlias: Big Brother, Cafe au Lait, Fleurel

Dinnerplate dahlias are no shrinking violets; their presence is bold, beautiful and often times bigger than a vase can hold, and short stems certainly don’t help matters. Because the blossoms are bodaciously broad, bud vases topple and mason jars are too short and a little too pedestrian for this grand dame of the summer season.

As a yard-sale aficionado, and thrifty guy to boot, I’ve found a worthy dinnerplate dahlia vessel in the crystal decanter as a presentation pedestal of sorts. Why a spirit decanter? Well for starters, they’re usually shiny and sparkly, which is enough for me; but there are also practical reasons in addition to the aesthetic considerations.

Big flower, short stems — Decanters are perfect for a big flower with a short stem

Decanters:

heavier than most vases
prettier than most vases
at least ten inches in height
allow for water to reach throat of dahlia
narrow neck supports a huge flower
bulbous base prevents toppling
easy-to-find at thrift shops and yard sales
dramatic in groupings
relatively inexpensive, especially if sporting a few chips or nicks

I think I paid less than $5 for any of my decanters, and while most have some wear and tear, all it takes is one large dahlia to shift the attention. And as an added benefit, I hear in the off season, they hold wine just fine.