Robin Hill Gardens – Page 89 – Be joyful though you have considered all the facts

Arts and Crafts on Robin Hill

Amie’s grandmother arrived to stay for 5 weeks. Amie brought a bouquet of buttercups to the airport and rode the escalators while waiting for Thamm to appear.

They settled into a regimen right away, part of which is “school”, “where Thamm pretends to be a teacher, and I pretend to be a student, and our house pretends to be the school”. They read and write and most of all engage in lots of crafts.

Here they are sketching each other – Thamm is attempting to sketch her every day:

Here are the results:

Amie (to one of her dolls): “You know, my Thamm is good at arts and crafts. But she still needs to use an eraser… That’s because I can’t sit still.”

So true.

We have also been working on a dragon. After rescuing some boxes from the recycling bin, we wrapped them in newspaper and painted them – the newspaper takes the paint much better, and as a bonus it gives the wrinkly look of dragon skin! Gruesome teeth were added.

Wait, he (she?) is not finished yet! More boxes and paint and glue to come…

Morning at the Farm

Taking a break from our construction – we were setting tiles till 4 am – and gardening Amie, her grandmother and mself ran off to our favorite place in the US (aside from our own Robin Hill, of course): Drumlin Farm.

There were birds, wild (Eastern phoebe?) and tame:

And farm equipment (defunct):

And strawberry picking – and eating:

And, when we returned, the littlest Robins of Robin hill (not so little anymore):

{Update} They have left the nest…

Birds of Spring on Our Robin Hill

Grosbeak

In the early morning I passed by the window without my glasses on and spotted something colorful at the bird feeder. Something very colorful and unfamiliar, though hazy. I rushed to get my glasses: it was a new bird, and I guessed that it was a Grosbeak. I got the camera and the bird obliged, visiting for another ten minutes.

When I sat down in the sofa with my bird book Amie immediately imitated me, getting her animal book, sitting down right next to me, and finding the animals she was spotting. It was incredibly sweet. Turns out it was a Rose-breasted Grosbeak. It’s a summer resident.

Eggs

A week ago I also found some eggs in the garden where a tree was cut down. One was broken, the other two intact, which I took inside and put into one of my bowls, thinking I might find a way of preserving them. Then I flat forgot about them, until today, when I found one broken (or rather, burst) open: it had a half developed little chick inside.

I threw them in the compost. Anyone know what birds these eggs belong to?

Robin Hill

You’d have thought the Robins would have chosen a different spot for their nest this Spring – no longer the rafters of our carport, where last year they had to fly off each time someone approached. They did choose a different spot… about a foot away from the old nest! It’s tough to photograph them – I don’t want to use a flash. Here’s a glimpse:

There were four little robins at first, and then there were only three. One fell out of the nest, it was lying dead on the pavement next to the car. I took pictures, of course – dead wild animals afford that rare close look – and then disposed of the body for some lucky fox or cat. It’s part of the great cycle of life, but how sad.

It’s not that I chose not to tell Amie, it just didn’t come up. SheÂ climbed on the ladder to see the remaining three chicks and was wowed.

Next year, if they choose to grace us with their presence again, I want to install a live webcam.

I have been looking for a name for our tiny homestead. We’re on a hill and have lots of chipmunks, so I was thinking “Chipmunk Hill”, but in honor of our Robins we’ll call it Robin Hill – I like the Robin Hood connotation!

The Mobility of Skills and Spirit

Someone asked me: What if youÂ would have to move now? This was with reference to the vegetable garden, to which I have devoted many, many hours of hard labor and a whole lot more of research, hopes and dreams. My answer was: It would be no problem. Really? You could leave all of this behind?

What would I be leaving behind? A half acre of land, some well-tended topsoil and some raised beds, and a fence. Possibly a season’s harvest.

What would I be taking with me? The knowledge of what vegetables, herbs and flowers are available for my region, where to buy them, how to sow them and tend to the seedlings, how to amend soils and dig beds, how to compost, how to space vegetables, plant companions, water them and wage war on bad bugs and weeds. What tools are needed (surprisingly few). Knowledge of the path of the sun in the seasons. Of the functions of the soil horizons. Of the fact that organic materials don’t “break down”, no: they are broken down, by fungi and bacteria and little critters. That chipmunks dig holes in the beds, deep ones. That it’s okay if a couple of bean seedlings are eatenÂ by an entity unknown: pull and reseed. That it’s good fun, “tucking in” seeds here and there. All that, and also a fitter body, more physical endurance, and above all a happier spirit for my entire family.

That’s what it means to be self-sustainable: to have skills and knowledge that can travel with me anywhere.

Amie’s picture of Mama in the Garden (taken with her very own camera)

Birds, Some Sweet, Some Bitter

Just as we’re putting in the fence, up pops another predator: a big wild turkey, right in our front yard! I think it was munching the buckwheat, which is succulent right now. So just a few yards away from the vegetable garden (luckily, at that side, the fence was already up).

It’s bittersweet to spot it: a flutter both of fear and joy, because the turkey is of course another element of wildlife, along with the foxes and the deer. And it was very pretty, a shiny russet brown, and graceful too. The way I figure is that I can afford to be ambivalent about it as long as the fence will keep it from the vegetables, as long as that one lone turkey doesn’t bring its flock to decimate the buckwheat.

Speaking of birds, Saturday morning at 6 am I met one of my neighbors who is an avid birder. He took me around the neighborhood and told me all about the birds that live here. He pointed out their songs, then we stood very still (aargh, forgot the mosquito dope!) and he made a funny whistling, swishing sound, and the birds appeared, sometimes only a few feet away. They were curious what that noise was all about. “What kind of birds are those?” and more importantly, “Are they a threat tom nest”.

And so I saw (* indicates for the first time):

2 Eastern bluebirds*
1 oriole*
2 yellow warblers, Mr. and Mrs.*
1 bobolink*
1 red-tailed hawk*
flock of cedar waxwings (7?)*
1 tree swallow*
1 tree sparrow*
1 catbird*
flock of cowbirds*
several grackles
1 wood duck*
Canada geese

And I heard, for the first time consciously:

1 vireo (forgot which)
1 scarlet tanager

He showed me where some of them nest, so I can take Amie there and “call them”. And I got to discover another nature reserve, tucked away right in my backyard!

No pictures. We had binoculars, but since the birds came so close, we hardly needed them. I’m happy I didn’t have a camera on me: I really could enjoy them so much better. I think I’ll keep the camera for the birds who come ot the feeder, and those that “pose”, of course.

So Tired!

Now I really AM tired! We spent the day digging a long one foot trench, then installed the fence. We’re talking 150 feet of trench/fence in mostly stone and rootbound soil. We still have 1/3 to go. For budget reasons we went with simple chicken wire, three feet high. It doesn’t look too bad – in fact, it’s quite unobtrusive – and it will do for now: it will keep the rabbits and the dogs out… We don’t know about gates yet, but tomorrow I will plant the seedlings anyway. The plants’ risk of stress due to being rootbound is starting to outweigh the risk of being eaten by the bunnies.

While working we frequently heard thunder, coming closer. Suddenly it turned very dark, and the tall trees all around us began swaying like crazy, and there was this feeling in the air, of static, and Amie started crying. We were ready to run for cover, but that was it, and two minutes later it was sunny again. It had been like a giant, invisible hand had swept by us. The next town over had major hail. Luckily we escaped that: the seedlings were out on the patio!

But what an experience! So eerie and exciting and I was so grateful that we were out there, in the thick of it. I am having many of those moment of gratitude when I’m out there. Like when I was ruminating the soil and soil horizons, while digging of course, and suddenly I realized: “stuff doesn’t ‘break down’. It is broken down”. A minor difference in grammar, a huge difference in reality.

Amie had her last day of school on Friday and we spent that week making thank you cards for her teachers. She chose flowers as the theme. I drew some, which she watercolored, and then she drew some flowers in a vase herself. She isn’t much into drawing lately – she’s always outdoors – but once she is inspired she makes works of art!

She also caught several caterpillars (inchworm?) and gently put them in a jar. SheÂ gave them leaves for food and housing and talked with them. There was no lid, so there was often an outcry about those creatures attempting to escape.

So Tired

The beds (see here for map)

Bed 3: beans. A couple of days ago I sowed garbanzo and lima beans, haricots verts and Provider bush beans. It’s so much fun, tucking in those beans: big, hefty, and immediate reminders of what you will be harvesting. The French lentils I sowed on the 13th have all come up nicely, and the red kidney, fava and cannellini beans that went in the same day are slowly heaving up, bean and all: what a sight!

Beds 5 and 8: ‘taters. I placed and filled up the three potato bins, which entailed a brief battle with poison ivy, huge sheets of cardboard, and a much more prolonger struggle with five wheelbarrow fulls of compost. I planted the Salem and the Bintje. All the potatoes are out of the bedroom: yeay! Speaking of potatoes, all of them, even the Banana Fingerlings I put in last, have broken the surface of the soil.

Bed 8. The 80 onion sets I put in on the 10th are pushing up nice green shoots.The radishes are of course in the best shape of all: the workhorses of the garden, they’re called, for good reason. There’s a few carrots to be seen, and a couple of blue flax (best companion flower for potatoes), but no sign of the nasturtiums/ia?

The seedlings

I’m hardening off most of the seedlings by moving them from the porch to the semi-shaded patio in the morning and bringing them in at night. It’s quite a haul, but a good opportunity to look at each of them closely. And what I’m seeing is that some are showing signs of stress, either because of the hardening off, or more likely because they are bursting out of their pots. Still, I daren’t transplant them into their beds because the fence isn’t up yet.

The seedlings downstairs – peppers, mostly – are growing very slowly. Due to the fiasco with the Peacework Peppers, which three surviving seedlings are still tiny, we may have to buy pepper plants. Next year I’m sowing earlier than when the books say, and an assortment of different kinds, to hedge my bets!

It’s hard to divide my attention between the garden, the seedlings in the porch, and the seedlings in the basement. Especially the basement, with its one remaining shelf of light, is depressing to me now. It’s where it all got started, but now it’s so much more fun to be in the sun and the wind and where the birds are singing.

To do over Memorial Day weekend

Pot up the remaining 9 tomato plants
Plant two tomatoes in old cold frame
Finish filling up the pea bed (bed 2, 4 x 4), figure out “trellis”, plant peas {UPDATE} too late for peas, planted squashes and cukes instead
Move rest of wood pile (just a little bit more to go) and stack in back
Plant fence: {UPDATE} 3/4 done!
Plant Beds 4, 6, 9, 10, 11, 12
Prune bushes {had no idea what I was doing: will see what comes of it!}
Dig and fill Beds 6, 9, 10, 11, 12

{UPDATE} Funny, I was going to write about how tired I was from all the work. Instead, as I was writing, I turned to what is growing and was invigorated. I’m not tired at all! Then I pressed Publish without changing the title.

Life on the Outside

– Seedlings hardening off on patio

Gave some away to a friend –

– Mama and Amie potting up

That’s Hyssop –

– First Catnip Tea

Homegrown: so good! Licorice? –

– Rough plumbing in playhouse

For all the cooking and washing up –

Amie Again Talks About Death

(It’s that dead bird again)

Well, at bedtime Amie again asked to talk about the dead baby penguin. Again she wanted to know why there was no blood. Was it really dead? I explained that it died because it was too cold. Probably its heart stopped working. I explained that our blood needs to circulate – go round and round – in our bodies and that the heart is a big pump that does that, and we listened to each other’s heartbeat (it will be a new game; she also loves to put her ear to my jaw when I eat crunchy things, which makes her laugh out loud). Then we slowly came to the heart of the matter, for her, on this evening.:

– If you’re a human, do you have to be a grown-up to die?

– Well, sometimes children die too, but not so often. They’d have to be really sick, or in an accident.

– But if S [friend at school] died, I could no longer play with her. I could still play with C and E, though [more friends at school]. But not with S anymore.

– Well, mostly, in this country, children grow up to be adults.

– But I was really sick, and I didn’t get dead.

– That wasn’t sick enough. Much sicker.

– If we die together, like in an accident, we could hold hands and still love each other. If you die first, I will still love you. But I will still have Baba and S and C and E at school to play with. That will be ficient [sufficient]. But I will still love you even though you’re dead. And I could still hug you, if you die with your arms open a bit [demonstrates]. Not if you close your arms [narrows her arms], then I wouldn’t fit. We could hold hands then.

– Usually, though, when someone dies, they take away the body, because it gets all smelly and rotten, because the blood no longer circulates through it and so no longer keeps it fresh. So they bury it in the ground or burn it up in a big, bright flame.

– I will still love you then, even though you’re not here.

Then the conversation turned to whether all her friends, E and C and some others (note: not S anymore) could come and live with us, and where would be put them to sleep and where would their Mamas and Babas sleep.

None of this – and nothing in our earlier conversations – was said morosely or sadly. It was simply matter-of-fact talk. She is trying out the concept of death, lingering mostly at its fringes: the poses we die in, would there be blood. Sometimes she gets at the heart of it, like today, when she considered what it would be like if her friend or I died, what she would do, if it would still be sufficient for her. But even then it is a trying-out of the thought of it, not the feeling. That’s why I am not worried: it is safe. And being so open about it, answering all her question without flinching, safeguards that safety and her trust in me.

Vegetable Gardening Update

I finished Bed 8 (see here for layout beds) and planted:

Red Baron onion: 1 row, 79 sets
Banana fingerling potatoes: 3 short rows (5 feet), about 20, several eyes on each
Nasturtium: 1 square
Blue flax: 2 squares
Carrots: 4 squares
Radishes: 1 square

In Bed 3 I sowed:

French green lentil: 33 plants
Red kidney bush: 30
Fava bean: 20
Cannellini bean: 10

Along with Bed 5, which has the trenches with the Keuka Gold and the Dark Red Norland potatoes, that make three beds completed. It’s going to rain/storm today, so no chance of getting bed 7 filled up, or of getting the three potato bins set up.

All my seedlings except the youngest and most heat-loving are on the porch (it still goes down to 47F at night). I’ll slowly start bringing them out into the direct sunlight of the balcony, and into the wind, so I can transplant them soon.

Better get cracking on that fence!