Summer’s End

Summer’s End

A light frost on the first day of Autumn - it’s as if nature has been told to follow the calendar! The garden has been put to bed. In the case of tomatoes that is literally true since the green ones lie covered and ripening under a blanket on the bed in our spare room. Just a few more projects and we can switch to keeping the wood fire burning and slowly consuming the fruits of our labour. I love autumn, still warm, awesomely beautiful, and for me, much more relaxing - the calm before the winter storms. I wouldn’t like to live in a place where the seasons run together with little change in weather. Here each season has its specialty, its own feel, its own joys, its own tasks. I welcome each one’s arrival and departure with equal pleasure.

The world continues to spin somewhat out of alignment. Opinions are so polarized these days, held so strongly that most folks seem unable to consider the possibility that their own beliefs could ever have a faulty base - inaccurate observation, lack of knowledge, insufficient or faulty information, propaganda. The global information highway ensures that we can always find print media, a newscast, a podcast, an official or a spokesperson that will support with true conviction any view anyone holds dear. But we are all susceptible to whatever our “trusted source” tells us, and all sources are biased. Even your own observations are biased because you see the world through your own upbringing, your culture, your education, your belief system. We end up hating whole groups of people, even nations, because someone says we should. All conflicts cannot be eliminated, some are even necessary. We are mere pawns in the larger ones but smaller differences can sometimes be settled, and others can be ignored. We are not all the same. Diversity is not a dirty word. And, though we may think so, we are not always right (even me).

Happy equinox! 

Summer

 Summer

Heading down the driveway on my morning dog walk, the sky grey with a misty drizzle of rain so light it almost wasn’t there, the air fresh and cool, my mind wandered to the time many years ago when my friend and her Mom came over to help pick mushrooms. I had no clue which mushrooms were edible so I definitely needed and appreciated a guide. We tromped all over the bush picking the small ones, the larger ones tended to be wormy they said. Since we picked way more than needed in one sitting I decided to dry them, strung them up like popcorn on a Christmas tree and hung them up in our south kitchen window. Slowly they shrunk, giving their moisture up to the sky, filling the kitchen with a musky odour while dropping a surprise by-product on the windowsill below - crunchy desiccated worm carcasses! So I got out my whisk broom, scooped the bodies up and deposited them in the trash, put the now worm free mushrooms into jars to use in soups, and never really got around to picking mushrooms again. 

In the “the good old days”, when our farm was mainly bush, when I was young and had no garden yet, and before we had goats and sheep, I spent hours harvesting berries and tea leaves from the bush. I carried my wee son on my tummy or on my back in his green Snuglie pack. It was like a turtle shell, you could barely see him. I would lay my little turtle on a blanket for a nap and pick blueberries. Highbush cranberries drew me to their bounty by releasing their unique scent. I picked raspberries, wild strawberries, some gooseberries and hazelnuts. There was peppermint below the beaver dam and Labrador tea in the muskeg to the south. Gathering this wild bounty was a mixed pleasure. In those days there were so many more bugs than there are now. I remember being literally chased out of the bush by masses of tiny flies and mosquitoes. Then for me, with my totally undeveloped sense of direction, there was always the possibility of getting lost. Since it was just baby and me I used to mark my trail with bits of brilliant orange tape to ease my fear. I never really thought about bears much except for making sure I was noisy by singing and “conversing with my companion.

But times change, priorities change, and after 50 years of occupancy our little plot of land has evolved to become fairly “civilized “. Now we garden and cut grass, lots of grass since we no longer have sheep to keep it under control. I rarely harvest wild berries. The tame raspberries this year were incredibly abundant, filling my freezer until I had to juice and can many pounds of them to make room for half a pig. The peas grew well; the tomatoes, to date, have produced nothing but leaves. The cucumbers planted in the corn row may produce, their leaves are huge and they’ve got lots of flowers and some cukes forming. They are climbing the corn stalks but it’s crowded in there, hard to see what’s going on. I think next year I’ll plant them in sunflowers instead - fewer low leaves. The corn is tall, tasseled with cobs forming. All in all it’s been another good summer with plenty of rain. It’s been an action packed season with many social gatherings and winter preparations. Now I look forward to autumn when all the summer work is done and I can walk my dogs down our yellow “brick” (fallen leaves) road.

The Promise of Spring

The Promise of Spring

I’ve never ever planted my garden before the May long weekend! But this year I was lured by the good weather to plant early - between the 11th and the 13th. Also, because I’ve had a three year problem with peas dying before producing, I decided to listen to the grapevine which told me to plant peas early. Apparently they don’t like the heat and even enjoy a little chilly weather. Once the peas and onion sets were in the ground I just kept on going and going and before I knew it the whole garden was planted, even corn, something I’ve not tried for probably 20 years. Good grief, all those muscles I didn’t use all winter sure kicked up a fuss! I planted myself on my recliner for hours after that marathon.

I’ve always heard that some folks plant by the moon. Remembering the moon was large and bright in the sky during my planting spree I decided to find out what that was all about and asked my usual source. The Net said that the full moon in May 2025 was on the 12th and that May’s full moon is called the Flower Moon. According to some, this is exactly the perfect time for planting seeds. Who knows, I may have the best garden ever!

Gardening advice can be confusing. Plant hardiness zones, soil types, soil temperature, expected date of last (and first) frost, actual frost dates, sun and shade, companion plants…What is best? Always learning, always experimenting. This year I discovered a back saving seed planting method. You use a long pipe, place the end where you want the seed to go and drop the seed down it, wiggle it a bit to make sure the seed is covered and just like - done. No bending over. Of course the wee tiny seeds like carrots are another matter altogether. In past years I have always attempted to spread my carrot seeds thinner by mixing them with dried used coffee grounds and broadcasting them in wide rows. Still they came up like hair on a dog’s back. This year I purchased pink coated carrot seed that has size and visibility in its favour in hopes of avoiding that backbreaking carrot thinning process.

It’s now the 19th. Our crab apple tree is almost fully bloomed so hopefully potential apples will have a chance. Last year it bloomed early and there were no bees around to pollinate before a pounding rainstorm beat the blossoms to the ground. Our apple crop barely filled an ice cream pail. If we get lots of apples this year I plan to jar them whole in quarts with honey syrup. They are yummy and it’s an easy way to deal with lots of apples. Then there’s apple butter, apple crisp, apple sauce, apple juice…. Yum. 

Our honeyberries (Haskap) are early bloomers and have been humming for quite awhile with mostly bumblebees. Before long flocks of birds will devour the easy to pick berries leaving us humans to crawl around scavenging the ones near the ground. But they’re heavy producers, enough for everyone. The raspberries, after three back breaking days, are now free of last year’s canes and the rhubarb has grown about 10 inches since I started writing this blog!

Speaking of bees, neither of our hives survived the winter. We don’t know why. There was lots of honey still in the hives so they didn’t starve. Keeping bees over our harsh winters requires good insulation, ventilation, plenty of honey left in the hive and certain amount of luck. Most indigenous bees winter underground and are better equipped to withstand those extended periods of -40 Alberta blesses us with. We put our name on a waiting list and were able to purchase two packs of bees from the Alberta Honey Cooperative (Bee Maid). Our new New Zealand bees have settled in and are happily buzzing around and gathering pollen. Here’s hoping they do well. Bee keeping is a great, and often expensive, hobby. Sometimes we wonder if we should continue on, but we love honey, and we make a fine mead from it. 

Despite successes and failures there’s just something addictive and rewarding about growing and preserving your own food. Spring makes us a promise - put in the work and you will be blessed with healthful food to enjoy at your table year round. Other factors sometimes enter the picture attempting to make a liar out of Spring, but she, and we, try to do our best.

Walking Backwards

 Walking Backwards

A few years back I asked a friend, “How do you know when you need a knee replacement?” Her response - “Easy, it hurts like hell.”

For several years I’ve been vacillating. Should I go forward with a knee operation? There certainly was pain, but was it bad enough? I’ve talked to my family doctor, gotten X-rays, seen a city doc twice, seen a surgeon and a physiotherapist, all who have told me my knees were shot. But they could see I was riding the fence, not quite ready to say sign me up. They gave me an exercise plan, said be careful not to fall, and told me to call when and if I decided to go ahead with a knee replacement. I haven’t called yet.

To be honest I tried but mainly failed to establish an exercise routine. I always find something more important to do. But a few months back my husband broke his ribs and was not inclined to move much so I got out my trekking poles and took over the morning dog walk. The only place free of snow was our driveway - it’s long, hilly, curvy, uneven, closed in by trees and beautiful in all seasons. But walking up and especially down hills can be challenging for someone with bad knees. It was hard work at first, some days it still is. I had to stop at the top of the second hill to catch my breath. At times my left knee locked up and movement was pretty painful. But I’ve become a convert to the benefits of walking. I can now use both legs to go upstairs, not easily, but I can do it. I’m convinced it’ll get even better with time.

My son is one of those folks who think you can fix almost any chronic ache by the right exercise. He’s physically fit, incredibly strong, practices Ninjitsu and has made a lifelong personal study of mind and body. He told me I should try backwards walking, talked of its benefits. I thought that was a bit crazy but he’s my son. I’m his Mom. I trust him… So, on a more or less level section of the driveway I added walking backwards to my daily dog walk.

According to google university (https://health.clevelandclinic.org/benefits-of-walking-backwards) backwards walking can: help to strengthen different muscles, burn more calories, help to prevent joint pain, give your brain a workout, and improve your posture. Other sites make even more claims. I’m only at the beginning of this walking journey but I know first hand that walking daily, forwards and backwards, really does benefit both mind and body. Now that the snow’s gone I’m thinking of getting out my step counter and going further afield, but then it’s Spring, my garden is calling me…

The Geese Return

The Geese Return

March 25th

There is something so cheering, uplifting, PROMISING, about the return of the geese each spring. They herald a season of light, warmth, rebirth, renewal. Neighbours remark to one another about their sightings. Everyone notices their arrival.

Our small farm is surrounded by boreal forest causing our fields and the lake to the south of our house to be shaded from the slowly lifting sun. When the larger farms in the area are snow free we are still shrouded in snow and the lake remains ice covered. Nevertheless the geese return, meeting and greeting on the icy surface and having many animated discussions over territory and nesting sights. But they need to fly off to find food and safety so don’t stay until the water opens up. Yesterday morning I heard what I hoped was “our geese” returning to their summer home. When I looked out the window I saw a lone coyote crossing the ice. He sat quite awhile and yipped, looked this way and that and yipped some more. Perhaps he was mourning the loss of a near catch. 

My morning dog walk down our 1/4 mile driveway came to an abrupt halt today when the second hill shone with wet slippery ice from edge to edge. Time to find somewhere else to walk! So I set out towards the partly open field to the north, zigzagging to step on snow free ground wherever possible. The snow remaining on the south edge turned out to be hard enough to hold my four footed weight (trekking poles provide me with a couple of extra limbs). Ahh it was wonderful! What a feeling of freedom it gave me to walk on snowless ground, check out territory forbidden for many months by Mother Nature to anyone but a skier or snowmobiler. Maybe a few more sunny days and Spring will truly be here!

March 28

Oops, my ability to walk on the fields was short lived. Spring has retreated once more. Now there’s snow  up to mid calf and moving anywhere in it is a struggle. The poor geese, but I guess, like us, they’re used to it. It is Alberta after all.

The Package

The Package

Since I discovered online shopping I’m like the kid from years past with her head buried in the pages of the Sears Christmas catalogue. I even have an online wish list! I love the convenience of having stuff I order come right to my mailbox, saving the gas and time I would otherwise need to go to town. One day I started thinking, gee it’s been quite awhile since I put in that order for canning jar lids and wine yeast, seems like it should be here by now…? I tracked the order online and found out that the package was supposedly “dropped in the mail slot” two weeks ago! Huh? 

I began to wonder about my brain. Did I forget? Did I already pick this package up at the mailbox and stow it all away? Just in case I checked my pantry - no new jar lids. I looked in my wine supply drawer - no new yeast packets. My next thought, and this is the usual route amongst those who’ve been married for a long time, I’ll bet my husband picked it up and forgot it in his truck. His response to that query? “Nope.”

What to do? I called our local post office. The postmistress said she’d check into it. She called me the next day, no luck there. Again I questioned my brain. I looked in my own car and, not trusting my husband’s ability to find things, glanced in his truck too. No package. So now I needed to contact Amazon. I found the “package not received” section under orders without too much trouble and somehow found a chat line to discuss my problem. I had a long conversation with a person or AI named “V”. In the end I received a full refund for the missing order. Being pretty impressed with Amazon’s service, I thanked “V” and signed off on the chat. The credit appeared on my account in minutes. So, since all was fixed I decided I’d better order lids and yeast again, but got busy and didn’t get around to it.

Several days later my husband and I were heading out to town. I was putting on my coat and boots while he was warming up the truck. He came back in the house and nonchalantly plopped a package on the entry stairs. “Here,” he said. 

Well that wee statement nearly knocked the stuffing out of me. “What the….” said I. “Do you have any idea of what I’ve been going through over that package? Where was it?” 

“Up the back by the window,” he said, completely oblivious to the steam exiting my ears. It must have been well hidden I thought, but the truck’s back seat is always chaotic - dog beds, tools, stuff, more stuff. Finding a single item is kinda like trying to find a missing pack of wieners in a fully loaded chest freezer.

Now what do I do? I got a credit for a package that is not missing. I tried several times to find the appropriate area to reverse the credit but navigating Amazon’s site this time proved daunting. Customer service has nine pages of choices to select from but, like nearly every telephone tree I’ve ever encountered, not one selection addressed my problem and there was no place to simply type in a question. I searched and searched for that elusive chat line I found before but to no avail. Where oh where had “V” disappeared to? In the end I just gave up.

A couple days later I thought I’d better open the “lost” package and make sure it was all there. It was, but it contained the wrong size jar lids, wide mouth, not regular. I rechecked my order and, sure enough, I’d ordered the wrong lids.

North of 54

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March 9, 2025

Brr, That Was a Chilly One!

February was one of those months that take your breath away. Sooo darn cold.   But time flies and before we know it Spring will arrive and many of us will be thinking about gardening. In the mean time I’ll continue to keep warm, keep reading, and keep playing tunes.

The news these days is so discombobulating and disheartening that it has seeped into my dreams, definitely not pleasant dreams. I feel a sense of relief when I wake up. Unfortunately I can’t wake up from real life. Hearing the US president, a man who wields such a terrifying amount of apparently uncontrollable power, spout his rhetoric on the media day after day is unnerving. It suddenly seems our good relationship with our southern neighbour may be in jeopardy. Relationships between the US and many other countries are getting somewhat shaky as well. Hopefully good sense will prevail.  

Perhaps this should be a wake up call for Canada - too many eggs in one basket, too many trade barriers between provinces. I know very little about interprovincial trade barriers so I decided to do a little research. If you don’t mind a bit of internet browsing here’s a link I found helpful - https://www.ctvnews.ca/business/article/how-interprovincial-trade-barriers-in-canada-affect-everyday-canadians/. It turns out there are so many rules, regulations, permits, educational standards, road safety regulations, food safety regulations, etc. that differ from one province to the next that doing business outside of your own province but within Canada can be slow, costly and/or prohibitive. As a consequence in many cases it’s  easier for companies to do business with the US! This makes little sense, seems like we’re cutting our own throats.

There’s a local issue we should pay attention to. Our county seems to be entertaining the idea of having a small nuclear reactor within its borders. The Canadian government tends to promote nuclear power as green energy but I think this is fuzzy logic. Uranium mining is certainly not green, reactors are super expensive to build, they are not likely to employ very many local people, spent fuel storage can be an environmental disaster in the making, and accidents do happen. I think caution is called for. It’s not wise to blindly accept ideas presented by those who profit from their implementation. Today I listened to a podcast about a nuclear reactor, invented in the 1960’s (!?), that uses spent fuel, recycles it over and over until its dangerous radioactive after life is reduced to about 100 rather than 100,000years. These reactors are being used in Japan but not in North America. If we’re building new shouldn’t we at least be building better? Podcast is by Cleo Abram, https://youtu.be/IzQ3gFRj0Bc?si=_nzlkiy0j0SGFbc9.