To be...

Dignified 

Or not to be. That is the question

More pics of Lily and Izzie

Let's make a break for the door. They'll never catch us.

Darn, spotted. Quick, look cute.

Sleepy Dog Farm presents

Isabelle and Lily

Isabelle(Izzie)

Lily

Izzie

Lily eating her sister

What a wonderful way to start a day! I love our life. These little girls arrived this morning and have been waddling away in the brooder box. OMG are they cute. Thank you Lynn for bringing them here.

Friends of Jacques

That will be my new moniker for creatures that are, shall we say, a little dim-witted. Last week a robin couple decided that the perfect place to build their nest would be on top of our front door. The ledge(which barely qualifies as such) is only two inches deep. Regardless, they kept at it.

On the first day I noticed some tall dried grass on the welcome mat. I thought Lynn was responsible for it in some way, whether carrying one of her thousand new plants, or just some over zealous weeding. The next morning I noticed it was there again. Hmm, not like Lynn to leave a mess. And so I looked up. And there I saw what looked like a mish- mash of dried grass and dirt. Lynn grabbed the step stool and cleared it off. (I am too short to reach)Problem solved. Or not. Later that day I noticed all of the stuff was back. This time the wind took care of the cleaning so it blew away. And they came right back. Again the wind took it all away. Then Lynn, then the wind again. This went on for a week. One would think that our robin friends would have clued in to the fact that this was not a stellar place to lay eggs. Not the case. The nest was completed the other day. :( Bonne chance amis de Jacques!

More from the weekend

Along with the various blooming flowers come the rapidly growing grass and the plentiful dandelions.  Nora despises both mowing the lawn and dandelions.  I told her she is an unfortunate result of her suburban upbringing; raised with the false notion that yards should be perfectly green, perfectly weed-free, perfectly manicured and above all, dandelion free!  I, on the other hand, would let the grass grow a little longer and I’m content to have my yard overrun with “weeds” of many colors – dandelions, forget-me-nots, white clover.  Unfortunately, if I let the grass grow too long, I would never get the lawnmower through it, so we spent a fair amount of time on Sunday mowing. 

But we were also able to knock a couple of other to-dos off the list.  Saturday was spent weeding flower beds and pruning roses.  A co-worker of mine kindly dropped off 5 hosta she no longer wanted, so I spent some time finding room for them. This called for some extensive day-lily removal in one area, which needed to happen anyway.  I dug, hacked, pulled and swore profusely for two hours but finally managed to rid 1/2 of the shade bed of the invasive day lily and planted 4 of the 5 hosta into this area.  The final one went into the Empress Wu hosta border (see post below).  

On Sunday, we planted another 25 strawberry plants (“Ozark Beauty” – a cold-hearty, everbearing variety); mostly in the new bed (bringing that bed up to 115 plants) interspersing the additional 10 into the current bed.  We also finished covering up the last remaining exposed areas (edging up near the fence) in the vegetable garden with cardboard and mulch to kill off the grass and weeds.  Once the grass has finally died off (a year or so), I hope to plant nasturtiums, sweet peas and morning glories along the fence in the garden every year.  I also did a little planting as I was cleaning up the beds – planted one variety of sunflowers and one of the bush bean varieties (Contender).  The vast majority of the planting and transplanting in the vegetable garden will happen this coming week and weekend.  

I also had a wonderful moment in the sheep pasture.  Magnolia and I went into the pasture to visit the sheep. She loves to say hi to them, sniff bums and eat sheep poo.  Once she said her hellos and bounded about trying to get them to play with her (to no avail), she wandered off to the far fence line to sniff out new smells. I stooped to pet Jem and Tallulah.  They both have developed a fondness for what I call "neck scrunchies." I rub under their chins and around their ears, and they stand there making small sounds of contentment. They were both wanting attention, so I sat on the grass and had a sheep standing on either side.  At one point, I must have stopped rubbing Jem and she picked up her leg and "pawed" me with her hoof to refocus my attention -- too cute.  Then, she laid down on the grass beside me, as I continued to pet Tallu.  It was so adorable.  I know it doesn't mean much to anyone who doesn't own sheep, but they aren't known for being overly affectionate or trusting.  The fact that she laid down with her back pressed up against me and was just contentedly hanging out was amazing to me.  She remained there until I had to get up and get back to work. 

Photos from this weekend

Late bloomers - these tulips just opened over the past few days.

Close-up

Bleeding Heart (Dicentra spectabilis) - this is its first year in the garden and it's only about 12 inches tall; it should reach 2-3 feet.  I expect a more spectacular display in the fall when the temps begin to cool once again.  This plant loves shade, and will bloom for quite awhile unless exposed to too much sun and heat.

One of our plum trees has bloomed; she's 4 years old and produced 1 small plum for the first time last year.  We expect a few more this year.

The ground phlox has started to bloom as well

My mother planted this hosta at the base of an elm tree (which sadly died of Dutch Elm disease along with several others in the backyard) when she owned the property, so I'm not entirely sure of the type.  But based on size, and color and texture of the foliage, I believe this is Empress Wu Hosta.  It becomes mammoth and the tree stump will no longer be visible within a couple of weeks.

Weeping Siberian Pea Tree, affectionately referred to by Nora and me as the Weeping Russian (because we can never remember the full name).  This will be covered in bright yellow flowers soon.  I just relocated it next to the gazebo and it seems quite happy in its new location.

Jim is almost finished with the new arbor.  He has a little more trellis work to add to the front end posts and the center post in the back.  It's sizeable, sturdy and will look fabulous draped in purple wisteria and pink and white climbing roses - with some clematis tossed in.

Lastly, Nora's artistic Sedum photo.  Sedum "Autumn Joy" doesn't flower until late summer, but will bloom until late fall.  It is a wonderful, hardy perennial that looks beautiful in any perennial border.  The foliage is a lovely blue-green and is thick and succulent and, at 2' tall, could really stand on its own.  But by mid to late August, it will be covered in enormous, dark pink flower heads.

Heroine of the day!

I was looking out onto the sheep pasture earlier when I saw what looked like the sheep-obsessed crow (who has been hanging around daily) ducking below the grass-line. I watched for a little bit and realized that a crow does not move like that. Slow and low to the ground. I grabbed the binoculars and saw that we had a turtle in the pasture and she(we suspect she was en route to laying eggs in the river) was headed for the road side fence.

Before I head further into the story I would ask that you (the reader) not judge me, the protector of all things great and small. I have handled cheetahs, California brown bears, a chimpanzee, been swimming with dolphins and manatees, hugged a sea lion, stuck my hand in the mouth of a Beluga whale, and had a 6-foot long Python draped across my back onto my arms. While I am fearless in many aspects of life, I have limitations. And today one of those limitations reared it's ugly head. Okay, back to the story now.

We live on a state highway and the speed limit is 55 so a turtle crossing really doesn't have great odds making a successful trip. I ran out to the pasture, grabbing a walking stick on my way to halt our mother-to-be in her journey. Okay good. She pulled her head in and stopped in her tracks.

I stood there feeling quite victorious as I had successfully blocked her path. However, what was the more permanent solution to the issue? Was I going to stand there all day, walking stick in hand, shooing back this turtle? I think not. And yet my heart could not allow her to move forward. I tried to think of ways to relocate her that didn't involve actually touching her. That was not an option. Not a big fan of the amphibian. Especially foot long ones. (here is where the no judging comes in so prepare your mind) I quickly walked back to the house to obtain gloves and my cell phone. I needed advice from another person. I called Lynn at work. She could not think of any alternative to touching either. And she did something unexpected. She said "I will come home and move her." No judgment, well at least none that she shared out loud. :)
Out to the pasture I went to locate her and keep her still. When I arrived near the spot where she had been there was no sign of her. What the hell? Where did she go? I asked the sheep if they had seen where she went. All I got in response were blank stares. Useless ladies, useless in tracking. Whatever, go back to eating. I was starting to get very concerned. 1. Did I hallucinate the whole thing? 2. Had she already crossed the threshold? For a turtle she was fast. I located her trying to make a break for it along the fence to the road. Thankfully she was slowed looking for a hole. I walked up on her and she froze. Phew, just in time.

I looked around and low and behold I spotted Lynn headed out with gloves and a bin in hand. She had arrived and was going to save the day! And she did. Fearlessly and probably annoyed, she grabbed Ms. Turtle and gently placed her in the bin. Lynn crossed the street and relocated her a bit away from the road. And then she left as quickly as she came and headed back to work. Kudos to my heroine of the day!

Snappin some color

The Waiting Game

The next couple of weeks always seem the most painful part of spring - at least to me.  The weather has started to warm.  We begin to experience multiple, consecutive days in the low 70s with nights squarely in the 50s.  No signs of rogue frosts or bitterly cold days.  The sun is out -- well, some of the time -- warming the earth from 5 am until 8pm. The cold crops are in the ground, as are any new arrivals of bare-rooted shrubs and roses.  Summer perennials are slowly awakening and stretching their foliage upward.  So you begin to think "it should be safe to plant those tender annuals and heat loving transplants (such as tomatoes, peppers, etc.) outside."  You look out at the beaming sun, startling blue sky and emerald green grass and think "surely it will be okay."  The temptation grows; you've been hardening off the transplants for a week and you're positive they can withstand a little chill in the air in the evenings.  But there is this little nagging voice in the back of your head (wait, that's Nora) telling you "it's too early."  The soil may not be warm enough (generally,65-70 degrees) and, in our gardening zone, you just never know when that last, unexpected frost will show (see our posts last May regarding the doomed dahlias). So I wait...and I weed.

Productive weekend

We're in the usual May panic.  Well, I am anyway.  I feel as though at least 50 things need to happen every day, and I'm lucky if I have time for 10.  But the weather was beautiful all weekend, which meant many hours outside (10 hours today).  I can barely move now, and my arms are as red as lobsters, but I feel good.  I asked Nora to walk around and take photos of some of the items we knocked off the to-do list this weekend.

Jim and Nora put these raised bed together last weekend, and Nora finished filling them this past week once Agway delivered the soil.  I was able to get all of the cold crops in yesterday and today including: french shallots, red onions, yellow (storage) onions, Walla Wallas (sweet onions), Buttercrunch lettuce, Amish Deer Tongue lettuce (like romaine), two types of carrots, 3 types of beets, kale, swiss chard, 3 types of potatoes, dill, larkspur (aka, delphinium) and campanula (Bellflower) -- not all in the raised beds, of course.

In addition to planting, we did a fair amount of weeding -- the asparagus bed, the new strawberry bed and one section of the raspberry beds (we have 120' of raspberry beds; I weeded about 13' - ugh).

Weeded raspberry bed

100 new strawberry plants - freshly weeded

Jim spent Friday and Saturday working on the new 16' x 4' arbor at the foot of the patio.  He has the frame up, but still needs to do the cross posts on the top and all of the trellis work.  My plan is to train wisteria, clematis and several climbing roses (all whites, purples, pinks) over it.  Within 2-3 years, it should be a wonderfully shady place to sit.  It also frames the one side of the patio and will give a more intimate, closed in feeling to the patio space.

Lastly, a little bit of weekend cuteness with Jem.

Loving her clover

Bloomin'

As of today:

Tulips galore

White hyacinth in the shade garden

Fritillaria

Mountain Ash just leafing out

Make way for ducklings!

I am so excited. Lynn surprised me today by telling me she ordered two ducklings to add to our growing brood. In two weeks, two female Cayuga ducklings will arrive. Wooooooooooooooooooooooooot!!!
They grow up to be beautiful. And a great choice for this area as they are a Northern New York breed. Click here to learn more about them. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cayuga_Duck

So now we read furiously about how to care for them and prepare for their arrival. Man I love Spring!!!

Snap shots of Spring

Tulip on the verge of opening

Scilla siberica (Wood Squill)

Hyacinthus orientalis (common hyacinth)

Hellebores

...not some fanciful creature of the underworld, but rather a small, cold-hearty flower.  Those of us who garden in cold climates (zone 4 and lower) must wait what seems like an eternity for the tulips to bloom in the spring.  Our ice and snow tends to linger into April, as do the below freezing evening temperatures.  As a consequence, we are constantly in search of those few gifts of nature that are cold hearty; those delightful, little flowers that push bravely up through the frozen ground and snow to bring us some early signs of spring. Until last year, my lone early risers were the dainty snow bells.  Then I would have to wait several weeks before the opening of the daffs.

Somewhere in my travels last year however, I discovered Hellebores.  Hellebores are available in a multitude of colors -- white, purple, pink, yellows -- and prefer partial to full shade.  I purchased a mixed bag so had no idea what I would end up with this year.  So far, only 1 of the 5 plants has a bloom, and the plants themselves are no more than 5" tall.  Admittedly, rather unspectacular at the moment.  But I expect as they settle in they will reach at least a foot high and will spread out a bit as well.  I have them tucked into a shady area beneath a buckthorn tree, and I hope to have a healthy patch of Hellebores by this time next spring.

Nora Meets a New Friend

Yesterday.  It was around 6 am and time for me to head out to the feed the sheep and hens.  As I was slipping into my Bogs, Nora starts to tell me about this "sighting" she had in the sheep pasture.  At first, she thought it was our friendly, neighborhood ground hog.  But he lives in the cavernous tunnels that he has laboriously, over the past several years, dug into the mound that passes for lawn. It's located on the far side of our property from the pasture, and I said it's unlikely such a little guy could or would travel so far.  Then she went on to describe this fantastic creature that she had, allegedly, seen.  He was "huge," "at least 2-3 feet long," "dark brown" and "fat" "with a little splotch of white under his tail."  I'm thinking to myself that she's finally gone off the edge into cuckoo land...2-3 feet long, with a tail that stands up enough to see a white splotch, but dark brown (i.e., not a skunk whose size Nora has vastly exaggerated), and grazing in the pasture in daylight.  What the hell?? After perusing mugshots of some possible suspects on the iPad, we came to the tentative conclusion that perhaps, just maybe, it had been a fisher.  Now mind you I'm thinking this entire time that she's either seeing things, or this is a case of the 3" perch becoming the 18" bass as the story is retold for the hundredth time.  So, I head out to tend to my animals assuring her that I will look about carefully for our new visitor.  I leave her with a worried look on her face, convinced that a fisher -- although "cool" -- is now on the property and ready to slaughter all innocent life; namely, our hens.

Needless to say my trip to the sheep pasture was uneventful and resulted in not a single alien spotting.

Fast forward to last evening, dusk.  Nora again runs excitedly into the room announcing that the creature has returned.  Rolling my eyes, and wanting to appease her, I walk into the mudroom to look out of the sliding glass door toward the sheep pasture. Well I'll be d*&^ed.  There is a very fat, very brown chubs grazing in our pasture.  But I'm quite certain that is no ground hog, nor a fisher on first glance.

We peer through binoculars, through the gray mist and pouring rain, trying to get a better look at face and tail.  I'm beginning to suspect a lost beaver from the looks of quick flashes of tail, coloring and size.  But grazing in a pasture?  It's difficult to get a clear picture since it rarely lifts its head from the grass and barely moves.  So Nora grabs her camera with the zoom lens and braves the rain.  I continue to look through the binoculars.  At one point, it sits up and does this massively, adorable shake of its entire body and water flies off in all directions -- flash to Bo Derek in the movie "10."  I'm thinking, "hm, longish, spikey looking fur" and then I get a better glimpse of the tail.  I'm thinking we have a big, fat porcupine hanging out in our pasture.  I run to the iPad to check some photos of the tail.  Mind you, I've seen 2 porcupines up close since moving here - an adult and a baby -- but have never gotten a good look at the tail.  I look at the photos.  I think I'm right, but still not positive. When I head back to the mudroom there is no sign of our visitor, or of Nora.  Good god, has she followed it into the woods in her quest to make a new friend?!

But she soon returns; wet and cold, but victorious.  She has no idea what she has seen, but is full of marvel and believes she has captured the elusive creature on film.  She hurriedly uploads photos and we're thrilled to see that she has indeed captured some marvelous shots.  One glance at the first photo and I announce, "porcupine."  Nora is beaming with excitement as we look through the rest of the photos, and she regales me with the tale of her adventure of meeting her new friend -- the slow walk out to the pasture, the creeping closer and closer, the introductory chit chat.  She was little disappointed that it didn't seem nearly as pleased to meet her at first, but also impressed with its reserve.  Eventually, Mr. or Ms. Porcupine grew tired of his/her new friend and waddled off into the woods.