Category Archives: Garden

Warfarin for Mickey?

Fall                                                 Waxing Harvest Moon

A day made for bulb planting, fall clean up.  Kate worked out front pruning back the roses, spirea and decluttering.  I got started with 24 bulbs, a kaleidoscope mix of various tulip colors.  Tomorrow morning will find me back out there, kneeling in what passes for prayer these days, tucking small living things beneath the earth, feeding them and pulling the blanket back over their pointy little tops.

This is, too, the season when mice, content to feed outdoors during the growing season, return to the warmth and comfort of domestic life.  Kate gets exercised when she sees mouse droppings, so we put out the decon and the ropax.  Seems ornery on our part but spreading disease is on theirs. Wonder if Disney ever included warfarin in a Mickey Mouse cartoon?

Also bought some more half pint jars for honey, bulb food for a our winter sleepers, a snack when they wake up, a 50 pound and a 20 pound bag of dogfood, plus two bags of dog treats.

Saturday sort of stuff.

Weekend Delights

Fall                            Waxing Harvest Moon

Ah, the weekend.  It came just in time for me this week.  Much to do and now some calm, free time in which to do it.

Ray, the Andover senior who mows our yard, raked leaves on Thursday, so I have bags o’ mulch sitting on the patio.  It’s way better than seed-filled hay.  Wish I could find some marsh hay, but the leaves will work well, too.

Bulbs today.  Kate and I plan to discuss bulb placement, then I’m going to go to work.  Also this weekend, writing the future of liberal thought, or Liberalism:  III.  Lots of ideas swirling around, gonna have to corral’em and find homes for them in a structure that makes some kind of sense.  Looking forward to that.

Writing always pulls me in, usually makes me happy.

Feeling Rushed

Fall                                              Waxing Harvest Moon

With Latin on Friday and my tour day on Thursday things can get a bit rushed.  I’m feeling a bit behind right now since my sententiae antiquae are not done and my translation of the reading remains.  The Baroque tour is done, however and I look forward to giving it twice tomorrow.  Tomorrow, too, is the Thaw exhibition lecture.

Not sure when I’m going to get my sententiae done, especially the vexed English to Latin, maybe late tomorrow night, just like real school.  Over the weekend it’ll be bulbs, bulbs and the first draft of the Future of Liberal Thought.

In and Down

Fall                                          Waxing Harvest Moon

60 pink daffodils have a new home in the soil surrounding two cherry trees and a pear tree.  These trees are the first ones visible out our kitchen window, so the blooms will cheer us up as spring begins to break winter’s hold next year.  Bulb planting relies on, requires darkness.  Beauty, like Snow White, goes to sleep beneath the autumn sun and lies as dead all winter long.  With the kiss of the sun prince flowers emerge.  Perhaps the years I’ve spent planting bulbs in great numbers, as many as 800 in some years,  triggered my affection for darkness.  In the first few years of daffodils, hyacinth, tulips, snowdrops and croci I often thought of those bulbs, covered in snow and cold, waiting out the winter in their castle of food and nascent stalks, leaves and flowers, a feeling similar to the one I get now when I’m at work in the garden and a bee, a bee from Artemis Hives, alights on a flower near me.  Both of us, insect and human, have valuable work to perform in the garden and we labor there as colleagues in every sense.  The patience and persistence of the bulbs beneath the snows and cold of December and January has always touched me, a sweet feeling, a well-wishing for them in their lonely underground redoubts.

That’s part of the darkness focus.  Another, earlier part, came when I began to feel uneasy with spiritual metaphors that took me up and out of my body.  Heaven.  Prayers that go up.  God being out there.  The minister lifted up above the congregation.  A sense that the better part of existence lies beyond the body and this moment, somewhere high and far away.   I began a search for spiritual metaphors that took me down and in.  Jungian psychology helped me in this search, but the clincher came after I had decided to study Celtic history in preparation for writing my first novels.  A trip to north Wales and two weeks in a residential library there tipped me to the existence of holy wells, springs that had sacred meaning to early Celtic religious life, long before the arrival of Christianity.  Here was a metaphor that went down and if used in meditation, could stimulate a spiritual journey in the same direction, no longer trying to get out of  the body or up and far away.

The spiritual pilgrimage that began from that point has led me on an inner journey, into the deep caverns and cathedrals of my own Self, traveling them and finding the links between my Self and the larger spiritual universe, the connection not coming on an upward path, but on the ancientrail of Self-exploration.  I do not seek to go into the light, but into the caves.

Grounded

Lughnasa                               Waxing Back to School Moon

Finished digging the potatoes.  The crop seems smaller than last year’s, but I can’t tell for sure.  Still, we don’t eat potatoes often and we have enough to last us quite awhile.  Kate made an early autumn roast vegetable medley with onions, carrots, leaks, garlic, beets and one potato I pierced with the spading fork.  It was delicious.  So was the raspberry pie–of which we have two.  Our raspberry bushes have been exuberant.  We’ve still got leeks, greens, beets, carrots and squash in the ground.  Some of it will stay in the ground until the frost and freeze gets serious.  I made a mistake last year with the carrots and didn’t get them out before the ground froze.  They became organic matter for the soil.  We also left our entire potato crop out in our garage stair well.  When the temps dropped down, way down, the potatoes froze, then thawed.  Not good for potatoes.  We’re trying to not make those mistakes this year.  We’ll make new ones!

Working with Leslie today reminded me of the punch there is in ministry.  Yes, the institutional confines squeeze life out of faith, but the individuals, the people can put it back.  She asked me an interesting question.  We got to talking about Christianity and she wondered, “Do you miss it?”  I’m not sure anyone has asked just that question of me.  I don’t, not at a faith level.

I miss the thick web of relationships I once had there.  I miss the opportunity to do bible study.  That may sound strange, but higher criticism of the bible is a scholarly affair requiring history, language, knowledge of mythology and tradition, sensitivity to redactors (editors), an awareness of textual differences, as well as a knowledge of the bible as a whole.  I spent a lot of time learning biblical criticism and I enjoyed it.  Not much call for it in UU or humanist circles though.

By the time my nap finished it was too late to put the shims in the hives.  I hope there’s some clear, sunny time tomorrow.  Also need to put the feeder back on the package colony.

The Vikings.  Not sure.  Favre needs some better wide receivers, yes.  The defense played well.  Adrian Peterson did, too.  It felt as if we were outcoached the last two games.  Not sure about that, that’s a murky area to me, but something doesn’t feel quite right.

Integrated Pest Management

Lughnasa                                Waxing Back to School Moon

It’s been a wet, cool few days.  The Apiguard I picked up last night only works above 60 degrees and 70 is better.  It recommends chemical resistant gloves.  I’m using this on two colonies, the parent and the divide.  I tested the divide and its high, putting the colonies winter survival at risk, though I did not test the parent since the divide began with a hive box full of parent colony bees, it seems reasonable to assume it has a high mite count, too.  I don’t like using the medication, but the UofM, which shares my bias toward Integrated Pest Management and leans against treating recommends it.  I did count my mites, too, so I know the divide has a high mite count.  The package colony, which had only 1 mite all together, I will not treat.

The fumigilin-B treats nosema.  In this case the only way to reliably test requires a 400+ microscope, an expensive counter and a bunch of dead bees beat up in a mortar and pestle.  The U, again, recommends treatment this year in particular so I’m following their advice.  Nosema and varroa mites are two of the culprits in colony collapse disorder and often combine to cause the winter loss of a colony.

Integrated pest management for mites and nosema includes using Minnesota hygienic queens, which I have done, and can include use of a drone frame which attracts mites because drones take longer to pupate.  When the drone frame has capped brood cells, the beekeeper removes and freezes it, killing the mites and the drones.  This reduces the overall mite load.

Integrated Pest Management (IPM) has been around for a while.  It’s sort of a middle ground between all organic and contemporary agriculture/horticulture/apiculture techniques.  The idea is to put any chemical treatments as last resorts, utilizing first techniques that either directly mimic nature or are supportive to it.  In gardening, for example, companion planting qualifies.  So does crop rotation.  So does soil improvement.  So does hand picking insects and pruning out diseased branches or plants.  Another involves acknowledging that some level of disease and infestation is a normal part of the natural world.  The problem comes when the level begins to interfere with the plant or animals productive ability or its ability to, say, survive a Minnesota winter in our case.

In apiculture it involves, in addition to what I’ve already mentioned, culling 20% or so of your woodenware as it reaches 5 years of age.  This reduces nosema because the nosema organism lays down spores that can last as long as 75 years.  Another technique involves making sure your colonies have adequate food supplies for the winter.  A colony that struggles for food in early spring has much higher susceptibility to disease.

I use IPM in our perennial flower beds, our vegetable garden and now in the Artemis Hives.  I’ve not started in the orchard yet because fruit trees are still a mystery to me.  Gotta resolve that over the winter.

Waning Day

Lughnasa                     Waning Artemis Moon

The evening of a fine day is a silk garment laid on to welcome the night.  It caresses, soothes.  It wraps itself around the shoulders and extends a brief embrace as light fades and the stars come out.  It is, as my ancestors knew, a sacred time.

These days of September are the evening of the growing season, a transition to the colder, fallow season of late fall and early winter.  I’m glad they’re here.

As with each day, each week, each month of the growing season there are tasks appropriate to the time.  Here are a few of the ones we have left:

Garden

  • put a riser on the irrigation head nearest the deck
  • put composted manure and/or compost on the raised beds
  • Weed  perennials
  • harvest potatoes, beets, greens, tomatoes
  • save seeds:  tomatoes
  • plant bulbs
  • plant garlic
  • transplant:  gooseberries, hosta, bugbane
  • black plastic and mulch along truck path

Bees

  • sample for varroe mites and nosema
  • check honey and pollen supply
  • feed if necessary
  • in november prepare for winter

Sitting Back

Lughnasa                                       Waning  Artemis Moon

The big push on honey extraction, preceded by the push to mulch the orchard and the vegetable garden, has left both Kate and me happy the weather has soured.  She sews, now in the room right above my study, and I tap tap tap away following this lead and that down the cyber rabbit hole.

After reading Romance of the Three Kingdoms and Blind Descent, I’ve veered off into fiction, a sort of relief has taken my reading and I’ve plowed through 2 1/2 novels this last week +.  None of it so far is noteworthy, just pleasant diversions.

Worked this last week on a project for the office of Learning and Innovation at the Museum.  It involved responding to a new exhibition of heads and masks to be installed in the hallway in front of the antiquities galleries.  It’s part of the Art Remix concept.  Thinking in this way, finding connections between the new installation and other parts of the museum, stimulated me, shot off a spark or two.

The Garden in September

Lughnasa                                       Waning Artemis Moon

The onions, red, yellow and white, are in the storage room ready to go on the wooden racks when I have a minute.  The honey, too, is on the bottom row of our shelving unit, collected in canning jars and resting in the boxes that held the canning jars in the store.  Kate’s just put up 7 packages of frozen kale and swiss chard, for use in the dead of winter when greens from the garden seem very special.  She’s also making applesauce from our six apple crop.  I picked them a bit too early for eating.  Chicken breasts and pie dough have been set out to thaw since I will make chicken and leek pot pie later today.  This is a busy time of year, but it is also a fun and satisfying time.

The potato plants have not died back, so they await digging and drying and storage.  The garden of 2010 has begun to wind down.  I still have to plant garlic, mulch a few beds, weed the perennial flower beds and later plant the bulbs, but the number of tasks has begun to dwindle even though the size of some of them make a lot of work still left.

Photo Time: Late Summer

Lughnasa                                            Waning Artemis Moon

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Late summer taste treats.  We have red and golden.

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These are the hives with their maximum honey supers.  We extract honey on Monday.

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This is just one of several deep cave descents attempted by the Andover Speleological Society, Rigel and Vega founding members.

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The newly mulched orchard from the perspective of one of our sand cherry bushes.

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Our fruit trees have not really begun to bear yet, but there are six apples on this tree.  More as the years go on.

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Kate spearheaded this project and it looks great.  Not only does it look great, but it is more functional, too, especially from a weed suppression point of view.

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Kate plants coleus all round the yard; they add needed color to shady spots.

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