Rainy day thoughts

The weather has turned towards its winter slide here and we won’t see a “warm” day for 5 months or more. “Warm” being a relative term because when you have -20 F, getting back to just above freezing feels warm in January/February.

As it rains today, the internal debate between grasshopper and ant rages. Cloudy/rainy days zap my energy and I sometimes fail in my motto of “get back to work.” When the cold from the north wind slaps me in the face or rain dribbles down the back of the neck, my desire to spend time outdoors evaporates quicker than I’d like to admit.

This is a day for “inside” work. There is some prep work that needs to be done before winter sets in (a win for the ant) or maybe we’ll pop some of the popcorn from this year and settle in for an old movie (a win for the grasshopper.)

At the end of the day, maybe both can take it as a win.

As the leaf hangs on to the tree or clings to the windshield, it reminds me to be resilient against forces that are meant to distract from the goals that are set ahead.

Yes, the irony of being distracted by a leaf on the windshield is not lost on me.

Enjoy the irony in life - it makes it interesting…

Leaf on the Wind(shield) - bonus points if you recognize the reference

 Linked at Poets and Storytellers United: Writers’ Pantry #93: NaNoWriMo Anyone?

Tuesday Triumph, she's been a little busy

A friend of our neighbor to the east stopped by after he set up a tree stand near the creek that runs through the neighbor's acreage. We had the usual conversation about weather, harvest yields, etc... I told him of my trail cameras that are set up in the SE corner and of the time of day that it captures the deer on the trails that lead over to the creek.

Big bucks seem to like my place between midnight and 3am which is about the time that the batteries drain on the electric fence (this allowed the deer and raccoons to get into the sweetcorn this past July.)

He replied that he had only had a doe tag.

I asked him to be on the lookout for a three-legged deer. There are plenty of other does he could choose from and no honest hunter would take a shot on a vulnerable doe.

He had already been warned about her. The neighbor had asked the same of him and he told me that they saw a three-legged doe with a fawn on the east side of the creek.

So, when I said Triumph was busy, I guess she was getting busy... 

She crossed the creek to meet some handsome young buck and probably is eating better over there instead of having to cross a creek, trudge up through the brush and then jump an electric fence on my acreage for sweetcorn that the raccoons would have decimated anyway.

This explains why we haven't seen her since April this year. 

Our Triumph doesn't belong to us but as a tough, resilient deer, I guess we can add mother to the list to describe her.

Triumph - April, 2021

Legacy of Wee Sprout

In June of 2020, this Iowa farmer dedicated a sugar (aka hard) maple tree seedling to Poets and Storytellers United. When Rommy correction - Magaly (sorry) commented about this “wee sprout” the name stuck and Wee Sprout became an official Legacy Tree™ on the Stranded Tree Farm.

A legacy tree is planted as a visual representation of those who have significantly impacted us at the farm and go through a rigorous nominating process. Family, friends, and loved ones who have passed on have a tree designated for them. We spend a little more time to fertilize, weed and protect them from the evils of predators like cute fuzzy rabbits that take one bite from each seedling and move on to the next. Sadistic deer enjoy taking their bites as well while the aggressive bucks rub on the younger trees to shed their antlers (nature doesn’t always cooperate with us.)

Wee Sprout - caged, June 2021

Wee Sprout is the only tree dedicated to a group, a community of free writers, poets, and maybe a few lyricists in the corner, all of us sharing our words. I thought the idea of a living symbol, growing along with the community, might one day shade a gathering of the members.

Wee Sprout - free, June 2021

One day perhaps, but not soon. Wee Sprout is still quite small but has grown twice as much as one planted to the west. I can’t explain how one tree grows so well while others of the same species planted nearby lag behind. Maybe the worldwide good thoughts boosted its morale but it could have been the extra fertilizer last winter. It’s a mystery…

To the east is a 30-foot black walnut producing a quantity of nuts this year and to the west is the sugar maple planted at the same time. Its northern neighbor is a Kentucky coffeetree and to the south is a black cherry and a hickory. Further away are more walnut, red maples, white and black oaks, ash and elm trees. A growing variety of native trees.

Wee Sprout is in good company and more trees will follow as we continue to reforest a small acreage in Iowa where no tree grows alone.

Posted to Poets and Storytellers United - Writers’ Pantry #90: Why Do You Write and Share?

My sky was blue

It was my sky that day. I claimed it as my own in all its deep blue horizons.

I could not see a single cloud in the sky this past Saturday while picking corn. An occasional streak of a jet interrupted the clear blue but those dissipated soon. Maybe the hand of God wiped away each line as an abomination against the heavens.

The winds from the northwest did not have a hint of an autumn breeze as the sun warmed the hills and the rows of corn that I wanted to finish that day. It rustled the dry stalks and blew the husks into the fence as I picked and shucked the ears. She carried the sounds of the birds away to the south where my feathered residents are headed now and I look towards March next year for their return.

But the sky…

If I could have shared my sky, I would have. A visitor to appreciate the blue (or lend a hand in the work) or a conversation that the wind could not interrupt. I was the only person there and from mid-morning, when I first realized the sky, until I packed up in the evening, not a single cloud drifted by.

But I did share the sky with the turkey vultures that were lifted high, circling together before heading southward as well. I told them, “Not today,” as I always do when I see them. Someday they may find me as a meal but not that day.

I will share a sight from the cabin. The cottonwoods that shaded the roof through the summer are losing their leaves now and soon their skeletons will remain during winter’s cold with only the white pines and the cedars as my companions there.

But for one day, my sky was blue.

 Posted at Poets and Storytellers United: Writer's Pantry #89: Ghost Walk

Harvest time - Fall, 2021

 The last hay has been cut and baled:

(Looks like I have some weeds to cut)

 And the corn is ready to be picked:

The final farmer's market is this Friday.

Our aronia berries yielded double compared to our best year of 2018 and we ran out of space to keep them. The popcorn looks to be 4 times over last year and storage will be a problem. (I've had to drop prices - because the law of supply and demand)

What's next after all is harvested for 2021? 

No rest, that's for sure... Back to work!

Labor Day 2021

We have a tradition in my family on how we celebrate Labor Day: Work.

This is the time of year for harvesting and the harvest doesn’t give a whit about the day on the calendar. Our cash crops of popcorn and aronia berries are in full swing now that the earth is nearing the equinox. I could leave the corn on the stalks for a while longer but the last windstorm knocked over many and if I don’t get those ears soon, I could lose them. The aronias are ready now and soon will be dropping to the ground.

After the successful Battle of the Beetles™ our crop came on strong this year and I predict this will be our best year:

I spent this Sunday picking in the sun and removing stems while in the shade of the cottonwood trees at the cabin. Serenaded by crickets in the grass and cicadas in the walnut trees with an occasional catbird calling from the creek to the east. Gravity was to blame for many berries that fell victim to its law and didn’t make it to my pail.

I resisted the temptation of reading the news during a break – the modern world needed to stay away as I picked by hand. I didn’t want to interrupt the peace of the gentile breeze from the Northwest hinting that fall will soon arrive in force with winter right behind. My hands were stained purple from the juice as the aroma of the berries wafted away with the wind as I picked. I also resisted nibbling as these berries have a taste of the tart apple when eaten raw. It’s best to use them in cookies or muffins as a substitute for raisins or blueberries. Mixing up a drink with other fruit works well, too.

Oh, and I need these for the homemade wine.

At close of day, on this Labor Day’s Eve, I’m only about a third of the way through the berries and I still have to pick corn.

So, Labor Day with be honored with labor – as it has always been on the farm.

 

Linked to Poets and Storytellers United, Writers' Pantry 86: Pet Training

Tailgating, 2021

Fall is the time of year for football and tailgating at the games. 

Here at the farm, we have a tailgating tradition: The harvest is put on the tailgate of the truck - 

Just some of the ears of corn

 

This corn started from a few kernels of popcorn that were darker than the rest. These ears came from a harvest several years ago and I've replanted a couple of times. 

Now we have a vast array of colors - from reds to blacks, traditional yellow to pink and few speckled kernels in between.

An August storm knocked down some of the corn (same as last year) and I had to harvest earlier than planned. We will sell a few ears at the farmer's market and the rest will be planted next year for another mystery crop of colorful corn.

Last year, a few ears from the ladyfinger popcorn had shades of red. I may have a new natural hybrid to work with.🤔

Beetle-mania: 2021

This year I’ve enjoyed the mid-July success of: cutting weeds, trimming trees, cutting weeds, the first green bean harvest and… cutting weeds. It’s a never-ending battle of wills against a variety of nutrient sucking noxious weeds.

Another battle that arrives in early to mid-July is the annual invasion of Japanese Beetles. These little green voracious insects emerge from the ground and immediately engage in mating, then eating, and sometimes mating and eating at the same time. With a dozen or more beetles engaged in an orgy on a single apple leaf that they devour, with short pauses to fly to another engagement, I imagine that their overindulgences would impress Caligula of ancient Rome.

Nearly every year these beetles wreak havoc on our corn, apple trees, aronia and blackberries. They strip nearly every leaf of our valued fruit, while completely neglecting the weeds at the farm. I probably wouldn’t mind their presence if they would eat the wild parsnip but they only seem to target what we humans want.

Hungry little buggers

Not using caustic chemicals on our food, I concocted a potion made of lemony fresh dish soap and Thai chili peppers and tested on the aronias that our hungry, sex crazed beetles first attacked. While I found several dead beetles, I cannot attribute it to my formula. It could be they were resting (or dead) from coitus exhaustius. The next day I had even more of an infestation maybe due to this aphrodisiac spray inducing a redhot lemon/chili sex appetite and called all of their friends to join in. At least they were clean for that round of licentious debauchery and gluttony.

He could be resting

After exhaustive research (Google), I tried neem oil and a Spinosad bacterial concentrate that are approved for organic use. I was disappointed in not viewing their immediate death but it proved successful in that I no longer see the thousands of Japanese beetles but now only dozens of still breeding monsters and a second dose was administered.

The Gala apple trees are saved although damaged. The aronia berries, while stunted, should give us our best year of production for our wines.

I’ll raise a glass to their demise.

Cheers!

Posted to Poets and Storytellers United: Writers' Pantry #79: The Latest on the Shortest

Another kind of crop

Hidden among the branches of one of the apple trees, I found a robin nest. 

Stepping back, I realize that I should have done a better job of trimming this particular tree. However, it does a good job of providing a perfect nesting spot.

Another hidden nest in a pawpaw tree is another nest:

I was looking for signs of fruit among the branches and I disturbed one of the young robins in this nest.

Even if we don't harvest a single fruit from any of our trees, it looks like we should produce a large crop of robins.