We interrupt regulary scheduled....

Stitching, sewing, painting, gardening and all things housely came to an abrupt halt several times on Sunday and Monday because,

the bees are back.

The previous hive failed over the winter. Michelle, the beekeeper, thinks that water must have penetrated into the hive and the bees froze. Her friend's hive came through with flying colours (black and yellow of course) and he was able to give enough bees to Michelle for two new nucleii hives.
I had been sad over the spring because the busy little beggars weren't diving all over the garden and I missed the glinting light off their bodies. Now, there are tons and tons.
Michelle introduced a new Queen into each nuclei hive and now we wait to see if the Queens are accepted or not. If they are, then terrific because the bees can get organized into finding pollen. If not, then the bees will kill the new Queen and start incubating eggs to produce a new Queen. That process takes about 5 weeks, then she has to do her reverse dive into the sky to become impregnated and hopefully make it back to the hive, when things will settle down into honey production again. It's like Coronation Street in there.
Below is a photo collection of the steps Michelle took to introduce the Queens. I hope you love it.

In bee protection clothing, Michelle gets all the parts ready. The two boxes in the foreground contain the incoming bees, the yellow box in the background is last year's starter box.

One of the new Queens in a transportation box. It is a blur because she has a couple of attendants to keep her groomed and calm. A beekeeper friend of Michelle's had several hives and two of them were producing new Queen cells, meaning that these Queens would be tossed out. Since Queens are hard to come by, Michelle is doing an experiment to see if the two young hives will accept these 'mature' Queens.

Not a great photo, but the right box gives you a better view of a Queen.

Michelle smoking the hives and flying bees with smoke from dried pine needles and wet grass. It is a very soothing moment in the process and it often mellows me out as well.

Michelle has shaken off all the bees (it was covered) and is making sure that each hive has an equal number of panels that look like this. These are brood cells. Unfertilized eggs laid by ?worker bees? I'm not sure, I'll have to confirm that. But they result in drones. Gee, I hope I have my facts right.

There were many flying bees disrupted by the commotion of moving things around, so Steve thought a little music might help keep us all calm.

Dead centre in the lower portion of the brood cells you will see a black fuzzy blop. This is a drone bee hatching out. There is one on either side of him coming out as well.

Michelle inserted the Queen's transportation box into each hive, and as they all get used to each other, she will emerge and start queening about.

A feeder bucket with sweetened water. This ensures that the hive has food until they get used to the area and find supplies of pollen they prefer. It also keeps the hive calm, knowing there is a food source easily available.

All tidied up and ready to roll. At this point, there are many, many bees flying about, looking for food and wondering if that big white thing is a threat and if the lady in the straw hat is edible.

and just as Michelle, the bees and I were all ready to collapse in our respective hives/homes, along comes Phoebe with her friend Randy and 30 lbs of lead to melt down.

Yes, melting lead over the BBQ in my pot used for storing kindling. Steve is making a boat (we won't make any comments on how long this takes because all you stitchers and gardeners know how long it takes a project to mature) and the boat needs a lead keel to balance the boat.

That woody thing on the ground between the BBQ and Phoebe's jacket is the wooden form they will pour into.

Phoebe loves this kind of thing. Randy is a bit worried because he normally melts only enough lead to make bullet forms. He works at the Citadel Fort where they re-enact 18th century life in the fort and making bullets is a cool thing for kids to look at. He's never melted this much lead before.

Trouble, trouble, boil and bubble.

 It was a very busy couple of days. Today, the bees are going about their business calmly. In two weeks Michelle will look inside the hives to see if the Queens survived or not. In the meantime, the keel has hardened and is in the garage 'seasoning' and my cast iron pot is ruined. I am getting ready for an exciting discussion with the fuel people to see if we can move the oil tank to a better spot for winter access and so we can repair a falling retaining wall. Excitement abounds.

Photos and links

Some days, whatever thoughts I have just won't come out of the brain. They're in there, floating around sipping fizzy drinks and saying na-na-nana-na. Well, I'm going to win this battle with my brain by posting some studio images and giving you a couple of links to entertain you.

Above is a piece I started almost 10 years ago. I used to take a cross stitch along with me on summer holidays. It has been about 10 years since we've had a summer holiday that didn't involve camping. Cross stitch by camp light, falling needles in pine duff and little drips of hot chocolate are not a good combination. It languished. It still languishes, but now in the light of day.

This piece has been wandering around my table for a few months now. It would always come up to annoy me while I was working on Rachia's birthday piece. It is nearing the state of finished. I'm working on the outside edges while I try to find the elusive acrylic rods that I use as a mounting device.

 Bullion knots on one edge.

The linen shirt I bought at a Frenchy's, now completely embroidered where ever there was a rust stain. Sort of chiq hippy.

I have time now to get back to my new holes. Lots of tiny holes. I had an idea several months ago, I wonder what it was?

 Something to do with holes, obviously.

The Links:
I have been watching these several blogs for a few weeks or more and think they are worthwhile if you like gardening, food, thinking or are interested in a few personal challenges.

http://chiotsrun.com

Chiots Run has several features. There is a pod cast about their garden, frugal living, social consciousness at a personal level, easy cooking and a few other bits and bobs. I have listened to a few of their podcasts. Can't say that I am stunned by them, but they do contain some good tips on many things. I learned about cover crops at a small garden level, and about two books that might make a good winter read. I should write a sticky note to myself to review those books  here.

http://thehorticulturalchannel.info/

I get a real kick out of this spot. There are several You Tube programs. You can subscribe so that whenever there is a new program posted, you will be notified by email. I like Sean's Allotment. He is a knowledgeable gardener but a hacker. Like me. Sometimes he gets around to weeding, sometimes he doesn't. He reads the packages and leaves them lying around. For the neaty kind of gardener, he'll drive you nuts. But what can be fun is listening to him and imagining cleaning up his allotment garden without having to actually do it.

Titly's Busy Garden is another program. She is a laugh. She is an unreconstructed gardener. If something will destroy the planet but kill the slugs, she uses it. "Talk to the Titli Hand" she says. She can wax philosophical at times.

There are a couple of other programs, but these are my favourites.

http://www.rootsimple.com/ 

Root Simple is a blog I've been reading for a year or more. It is written by a husband and wife team, he about the garden and technology, she about the garden, bees, food and books. It is a nice balance. Don't go there is you feel challenged by other people's life styles. They promote things like cities with bike lanes and water harvesting. I find myself at this site longer than all others because he often provides links that lead to links that lead to......

And that's it! I hope to get these three links up on the side bar. In the meantime, have a browse and don't forget to visit Hot Flash Woman. She has just met a new and exciting character, Picnic Girl.

Video of Bees

But first,

 The table Phoebe fixed. Doesn't it glow?

I just love walking past it now. No one is allowed to eat on it unless the entire thing is wrapped in three layers of saran wrap. Any one spills something and they have to RUSH to fix it. Some people get new cars, I get a newly fixed table after 30 years of looking at the old scratches. THANK YOU Phoebe!

Now for the Bee video. Nothing to worry about for the squeamish.

The slight noise you hear is indeed the bees buzzing. There is a bit of wind in the background. The little round hole above the main entrance is a second entrance. It is screened over to protect the hive from predators. The hive is still young enough that fighting predators is a challenge. The taped bit at the bottom is also to prevent predators and I think it has something to do with mite prevention as well. I tried to video the way these guys (gals) land but unless you see the flight path coming in from over the garage roof, you can't appreciate how fast they are landing. It's amazing there aren't all kinds of splat bodies on the side of the hive.

This is still a young colony, able to produce honey only for itself. It might stay with me next summer or move to a permanent location. Only the summer can tell. However, no honey sales will happen from my yard, or else I break a by-law or two.

Rachia had her birthday this weekend, so I can post her gift next Monday. And the 2 cords of wood we've been moving for four days. See you then

Urban Farming - July 2013

We've been working consciously on this project to turn our home into an urban farm for about three years now.

Before thinking this could work, we had already established organic garden beds, herbs, grapes, pollinating plants, open water for insects and birds. We used the clothesline, inside and out, installed a wood stove, use passive solar heat in winter, reduced water consumption and a few other odds and ends.

I had farm envy. I wanted horse manure to muck about, I wanted chickens to eat the bugs out of my veggie garden, I wanted to not have to listen to my neighbours playing loud, ridiculous radio stations. I discovered I was never going to get the small farm of my dreams and I had to readjust.

I moved along to frustration. How was I going to turn a determinedly north facing garden into a veggie patch? Chickens are outlawed in Halifax. Cows for sure weren't going to work. Miniature farm animals? No go. Everything I thought belonged on a farm, was roadblocked by being in the city.

Then I discovered two major things. One was the "100 mile diet" which I speak about  here. The other was the idea that homesteading is about switching my thinking from a consumer's to a producer's. Along the way, I realized there were many things we can do as homeowners that can make time on the earth a little less aggressive.

As you have read, we have switched our eating habits to eating nearly 100% locally produced foods. (Except there is a heat wave on and I am eating Mrs. Vickie's Chips and Sussex Gingerale, so I fib a little bit.) If it can't be locally grown, such as peanut butter, is there a local producer? If it can't be locally produced, such as coffee, can it be "Fair Trade"? If it can't meet any of these criteria, how important is it? So I do without bananas. I do without citrus fruit most of the year. I need an orange in January. It sparks me up to get through to March

As I look through the cupboards, I realize we really have shifted so much that it is hard to find anything that offends.

The Farming Goals haven't been so successful. Our garden is covered in shade. At best we get 5 hours of sun beside a maple that is so shallow rooted, nothing grows under it. It is a perfect place for overwintering the compost and storing a boat.

Livestock is impossible. Chickens, Ducks, Rabbits, Pigeons, Quail and Bees. All not allowed. I was feeling embarrassed at calling myself an Urban Farmer. How is that possible without a crop or an animal?

But good things began to happen. I realized that our garden is the only one in shouting distance with open water in the winter. The photo above is our small fountain. Usually the rocks are wet and there is easy access for small birds and insects. The photo below is our bird bath with electric warming feature.

We are the gathering spot for many bird species all year long. We've had odd visitors like the yellow breasted Flicker and the Rose Breasted Grossbeak. There are 5 different types of butterflies, 7 different types of wasps, several types of bees, and once, I saw rabbit foot prints. I know there are tons of mice. Any self respecting farm has mice.

I still felt embarrassed to mention my notions about Urban Farming. I came across this book again,

http://www.rootsimple.com/2010/06/the-urban-homestead/

The Urban Homestead by Kelly Coyne and Erik Knutzen. They have a great blog coming out of California that I enjoy weekly.

http://www.rootsimple.com/

I read this about 6 years ago, when

dreams of owning a real farm fell flat. I read it again 3 years ago, and put some more suggestions into action. I read it again this spring and realized that while I might not be doing the usual routine of producing my own food and flesh, I am providing a highly essential ecosystem for pollinators. Those butterflies, bees and wasps are all needed to pollinate other people's vegetable gardens. These insects travel for long distances, getting their pollen fix.

Just recently, we became foster parents to a fledgling bee hive. I love them. They are fun to watch, they mind their own business beautifully and I am learning interesting things. They will stay here until they are strong enough to go to a permanent home. I might get a jar of honey out of it, if they do well. Come on Bees.

Local Poetry in Halifax

An espaliered fruit tree at Annapolis Royal Botanical Garden, Nova Scotia

Well, here's something new to me. I heard about this a year ago, but last week a hard copy of a poetry journal was placed in my hands and voila!

Open Heart Farming, The Second Seeding, Vol 2. is now available at
http://www.ohforgery.com/

Open Heart's mandate is simple, yet powerful. It is an annual journal of poems on food and farming by Nova Scotians. It is published by Open Heart Forgery, Halifax's grass roots poetry journal. Each month there is a free, downloadable collection and they ask you to share it with others.

Here we have a different kind of garden, local effort, local art, inspired by local greens or not, if there's a drought. It is modest, humble and perfectly beautiful.

There is an annual Anthology, available at Bookmark for $10 or you can order it online (I think)
http://ohforgery.com/OHFanthology.html

I'd like to share with you two poems, one by a Quaker Friend, Sylvia Mangalam and the other because I like it. Of course, I like Sylvia's as well, but there is the Quaker connection that is always fun to toss out.

Fall Rite by Sylvia Mangalam

The Kentucky Blue bean swelled
Bigger than they should.
Tired of the garden,
I picked them anyway.

It's a sort of rite
This anticlimatic harvest
Reaching for the high fat ones,
Rounded over full seeds.

Gathering up the dry corn--
What can I do with this?
The last green tomatoes,
Last marjoram sprigs--

This genuflecting gleaning
Respects all the work here
Of God, of worms, of me.

And this one by Jaywant (Joe) Patil

Fruitless Tree (inspired by Luke 13:6-9)
The farmer about to chop down the tree
which had been fruitless for year three.
Give me another chance begged the tree.
I will be fruitful for sure next year,
if you fertilize and dig around me this year.
Everyone deserves a second chance sire.

These two poems have a spiritual dimension, but there are lots of plain old secular poems as well. One dedicated to hops, another to alfalfa, another to saltwater.

Roadtrip Shawl, Worms and our Urban Farming Experiment

Just a bit of a spoiler for the squeamish, there aren't any photos of worms in this post. They all agreed to go off camera for “you know who you are”'s sake.

Just finished the Road Trip Shawl. This is my name for it. Check out Knitters Magazine, Fall 2007, page 42-43 for this pattern by Jane Sowerby. I had to wait for the second skein to arrive from Louet Yarns and it is a great colour match. The last quarter of the structure of shawl and the ruffle needed the second skein. There was no way to shut my eyes and squeeze it all into happening. Not only did this turn out to be the perfect traveling project, it is a dandy for when there are guests in the house.

Mom came to visit

and that meant spending more time than usual in the knitting position. There is only one trick at the first of each row and then the knitter knits merrily away until the beginning of the next row when 4 seconds of thinking need occur again. Once the ka=trillion stitches were on for the ruffle, it was more of the same except the tricky bit was on either side of the 5th stitch. Casting on a ka=trillion stitches wasn't a deterrent to conversation. Who counts a ka=trillion? You just add on until you get to where the body of the object stops, look to see if there are any glaring holes along the way or a big bunch of stitches in a single spot and say to yourself “I'll fix that on my way past the next time”. Once you arrive at the worrisome bit, add a few more or drop a few or knit a few together. Really, who looks? The only tense bit was the ending. Did I have enough yarn to get all the double ka=trillion (because by now I've added gazooka # of stitches to make the ruffle do a ruffle like wave) cast off. The answer was no. That meant either ripping back three rows to get enough to knit the second last row again and then cast off or do the amazing “Knitter Superwoman” trick of leaving the thread where it ended, and then .... crocheting off. It was diabolical from a knitting stand point. I did this tricky thing that I thought would be a complete screw up and it worked! No one can tell were I made the switch. I wish I had thought of this years ago, what a great way to cast off without the worry of is there enough yarn. If crocheting hadn't already been invented, I would pattent this.

While Mom was here, I had a chance to get the livestock organized.

Mom kept the garden furniture from blowing away during the storm of activity while the worms made sure they weren't in the pictures. It took two humans (Steve and I) to hoik the worm bin outside. I have been tossing kitchen scraps in the bin randomly over the winter. We had a bit of a drying out problem around February with the one bin, so I merged the two bins. The one bin was a clear plastic with a clear plastic lid and I think it just wasn't dark enough for worm-like shenanigans. In the blue bin, the worms settled down to serious munching. Once the bin was outside, we drained the worm pee into several bottles.

This stuff is amazing! Really and truly! I know I exaggerate but there is scientific proof somewhere that this stuff is gold. The tomatoes love it, the other plants actually rear up when they see the diluted mix coming and it conditions fallow ground beautifully. I have two bottles and a half pail of liquid, and we moved worms out of the bin and into 3 small pails. I am hoping to find homes for the worms this September when those eager Students careen into the Sustainability year one class. The culled herd is back in the basement, munching on coffee grounds.

How's our urban farming experiment going this summer you ask? Not so hot except for the tomatoes.

The lettuce is a bit sparse, I didn't get my act together around getting seeds into pots in the early spring so the carrots, onions, peas and snow peas aren't part of the crop this year. I did get some carrots into a container and some late beans are doing a nice job of looking enthusiastic. I planted 10 pumpkin seeds for the hell of it and 4 of them are up and perky. No vines yet. We need a vine before a flower can do its thing and make pumpkin babies. Still, we have the rest of August and I can pretend they are gourds. Steve wants a gourd anyways to make a banjo out of. That-is-another-story!

What we did do this year that is an improvement over last year is that we have a better sense of what we can manage to pay attention to. .......Not a lot.

We have a better sense of how hard it is to get potato sets..... impossible this year (note to selves: don't turn the last of the winter potatoes into latkes if you need them for seed potatoes)

We have a better sense of what we can't get a hold of at the Farmers Market......almost nothing.

We have a better sense of how valuable our local farmers are to our incredible tasting local diet... .....Essential!

So in an odd way by having fabulous produce around so easily, my motivation to compete with those Fabulous Farming Families is very low. I like my lettuce outside the door, the herbs are a fun addition to many things, I wish I had the green onions and I miss the idea of neat kinds of potatoes but truthfully, I prefer to go to the market.

We shop for very little outside of food and drinks. Hardly any clothes, videos or movies, next to no shoes or furniture. We do spend money on reading material and we do spend money on eating out a bit too much (Fridays- you know the feeling- there isn't anything in the fridge and it's hot/cold outside and 8 other excuses, just so you can get some great fish and chips and not have any dishes to do) But food shopping is like a puzzle. I like making up the menu for the week coming up, figuring out what meat or protein we need when, what veggies will go with what, which meals Steve will cook (thankfully most of them) and which I will burn, I mean cook. And I like eating it.

Cooking with Forsythia

Inspired by Dye Plants of Ontario, edited by Nancy J. McGuffin, compiled by Burt House Spinners and Weavers Guild, I made a list of all the plants that I could harvest for dying in my Halifax city garden. I can harvest chives, onions, hydrangea, bracken ferns, coltsfoot, dandelion, rue, and privet. A few mornings later I was looking at my forsythia bush and wondered...yup. On page 189, Forsythia, a plant in the olive family was listed.

On a lovely early May morning I collected 20 cups of Forsythia flowers and the tips of new growth branches.

Into a dye pot they went, just covered with water. They cooked at medium high heat to begin, and then the pot was turned to simmer for 20 minutes. Surprisingly, I remembered to use the timer. (flowers give better colour if simmered, not boiled)

I don't have a scale so the balls of wool that had been wound on a ball winder, were measured in a measuring cup. I gather that measuring is important in dying so I complied, in my own way. I had two balls of wool yarn approximately 1 cup size and 2 cup size, and one ball cotton of approximately 2 cups worth. This is an eyeball measurement and has no relation to weights, accurate volumes, mass or density. Eyeballs only. And a good dose of rationalization.

I soaked the wool in warm water with “DownEast” dish soap (a small squirt) and a sploop of Glauber salts. Overnight because I forgot I had a meeting and then people came over to play recorder. The next morning the wool was then rinsed before going into dye pot with warm water.

While the pot is simmering I will tell you about the plants that can be harvested. Assume that the mordant (the chemically bit that helps to hold the colour to the wool as well as influence the colour tint or tone) is alum. I picked up a bottle of alum at the health food store a few years back for these impulsive dying moments. I also have a copper scouring pad and a copper flower pot that I toss in for excitement sometimes, but not today.

Using alum as the mordant for all of the following you will get: Chives, a dye bath of deep gold yellow; Onion (dried skins) a burnt orange; Hydrangea flowers a pink beige; Bracken ferns a green; Coltsfoot (flowers and leaves) deep yellow; Dandelion (flowers and leaves) a celery green; Rue (leaves) a pale lime; Privet leaves a gold yellow. The forsythia should yield a strong yellow green. These plants I have in enough quantity that I can harvest and not destroy the plant. Others that I could use for smaller amounts of yarn and available in my city garden could be: Bee balm, Bergamot, Buttercup, Cedar, German Chamomile, Cucumber, Feverfew, Forget me not, Geranium, Grape, Lavender, Lilac, Linden, Marjoram, Meadowsweet, Mint, Parsley, Pea (the bush), Plantain, Raddish, Rhubarb, Sage, Smoke-tree, Tomato, Willow and Yarrow. That is just in my not so big yard. Think what I could talk my friends into giving me in addition. The Rhubarb (deep acid yellow or if I use copper – deep gold green) intrigues me, so does the Tomato (pale yellow or with copper – bright tan)

The timer went so now.....Wow, a near disaster. I was thinking I need to get rid of the flowers and stems because poking those out of the wool afterwards will be annoying. So I ALMOST poured the dye liquor down the drain in an effort to collect the flowers and stems. Luckily, I uncramped my brain and thought to use one strainer to collect the bits and dump them into the next strainer. Then because I wasn't sure if the plant bits should stay in the pot, I put the strainer back in the simmering pot along with the alum and wool.

Those of you who like to measure things are wondering how much alum I put in. You'll hate me. About a plop. Enough that when you dump it in, the water goes plop. Possibly 3 tablespoons all at once. Here's a chance for the measuring kinds of gals to do an experiment and see how much it takes to make a plop verses a ploop verses a splash. Use a height of about one foot from the surface of the water.

The dye liquor yields a water colour that is similar to daffodils on their last day. “Expiring Daffodil!” What would the paint stores do with a colour like that to market?

I have set the stove to medium high for 2 minutes and then will turn it down to simmer for 25 minutes. Dye Plants of Ontario is really a terrific book. There is a great introduction, explaining how the Burt House Spinning and Weaving guild undertook to dye a huge number of plants over a year. They involved guilds and individuals from all over Ontario and had several artists draw the plants. They established a set of instructions for dying and reporting. The dying for each plant was done with Alum, Chrome (no longer recommended), Tin, Copper and Iron. Skeins dyed with Alum was then further over dyed with Chrome, Tin, Copper and Iron meaning of course that a separate skein was used with each secondary mordant. One tough problem was on how to colour code the results. It isn't clear what criteria they used to keep people from describing colours as Expiring Daffodil, but you see the possible problem (or creative solution). At the back of the book is a good set of general instructions.

I did read these, a couple of times before hand and during. My learning style is “in-attentive” and consequently I often miss out on a few details. Such as bring the water to a slow simmer. My solution to turn the knob to medium high and then turn it down to simmer is not considered the correct way. I thought it was pretty slow compared to turning the burner up to high and then turning it down to simmer, but that is relative and probably should be ignored by those of you who like instructions. I have a friend who shopped for years to find an ice-cream scoop that would scoop the correct amount of muffin mix into her muffin pan. She would slap me if she was in the kitchen with me now. I on the other hand would lick the muffin mix spills up. It is a wonder we are good friends. But in the end, I have dyed yarn that is somewhat like what the book predicted.

Shorn Sheep

Urban farming in the winter is a bit of a joke. Beyond tidying the garden up and getting the lawn furniture and tools tucked away, there isn't that much to do. We've dug the pea and bean stems into the soil, emptied the heavier containers into a heap near the compost bin and put the lighter containers, soil in, into the shed.

We rake our leaves onto the beds, both ornamental and veggie for two reasons. One to keep the frost heaving down (I think this is more wishful thinking than anything) and because none of our neighbours rake we inherit all their leaves over the winter and I have to do it all again anyways. This is a spring job for us.

Time to turn to the sheep. Nope, I don't have a little sheep, or “bap” as Phoebe used to call them, roaming around the garden. It would be neat though to have a mini sheep with a bell on, waltzing around the neighbour's yards, seeing as how most of them see gardens as a place to hide beer bottles. This is why I think I can get a bee hive and no one will notice and I wouldn't be surprised to find out that chickens would go unnoticed for a long time also.

But to the sheep. For the past two springs I have purchased a fleece from local shepherd Marilyn Rand's farm, Lambs Run Farm in Canning, Nova Scotia. The first fleece was a warm grey brown (or taupe for those of you who insist) and while I detest the colour, I love the end product.















When I first bought this, I was terrified of the processing I faced. I was afraid I would felt the fleece, not wash it enough, wash it too much or never get around to spinning it. Spinning it would be a real challenge, since I had no idea how to spin. Yet, buying a fleece seemed like a cool thing to do.















This spring I bought another fleece, last year's having worked out so well. It is a light oatmeal kind of colour unspun but once it is spun, it will likely go lighter and turn into more of an eggshell colour.















The fleece has gone through it's first bath. Yummy looking water, huh? The water temperature is as hot as it can be coming out of a tap, and it has to soak for 20 minutes, first in the one bath, then after sort of draining it, for a further 20 minutes in the second bath.















The fleece is in its final bath, which contains vinegar. This helps to cut the remaining grease. It doesn't harm the lanolin.














The fleece is sopping wet so it can't dry in a big heap. The centre would start to smell probably horrible things would happen. I've tried to spread it out around the basement on things that air can circulate around. You can't see it, but there is another amount drying that is double that in the photo.

I think this process of buying, washing and eventually spinning and knitting a local sheperd's fleece is keeping in the spirit of urban farming. It keeps me connected to the parts of farming I can't do in the city, such as keeping livestock, the left over fleece is used to stuff small toys I knit for my mom's charity,














and the spinning keeps me connected to a craft that is gadzillion of years old. Wait till you see my spinning wheel!

An Impertinent Pumpkin

This summer I planted carrots, orange regular ones called Minicor and purple ones, called interestingly, Purple Haze. I had purchased two rectangular planter boxes that were 12 inches deep thinking that the reason my carrots had been so small last year was because the planter box was too shallow. That delusion dealt with, I put in homemade soil, as in compost and leaf mold and anything else that came to hand and planted the seeds. I didn't get great results. I think I should have added sand and used worm pee more often in the water. The carrots were about 3 inches long. I expected the orange ones to be about 5 inches and the purple ones to be about 10 inches. We did get a handful of carrots in total but, still, no rabbits were knocking on my door asking for the extras.

About mid-way through the summer, this rather fantastic leaf turned up in three places. One was in a 5 gallon icecream container I had attempted potatoes in, one was alongside a tomato plant and the third was in the Purple Haze container. At first I thought it was Colt's Foot, a generally benign weed that is good for dying things a goldy-orange and I thought I would collect it up and do some dying.

That never happened and the leaf in each pot branched out into a bunch of leaves and after a while I realized I had a vine in each container. Then these rather great bright orange flowers came out. Huge hibiscus like flowers that were a lovely splurp of colour in a dreary July. So I left them some more and round about the end of August I asked my son's girlfriend, Natasha “What do you think those are?” Natasha is a gal from PEI and a potato farm of huge acreage, so she should know. “I think that's a pumpkin.” “Really! I don't remember planting pumpkins. I did buy a package of minis but never found a place to plant them.” “Ayup,” she said, “Pretty sure those are pumpkins. Odd spots you chose.”

Well she was right about the odd spots but not that I chose to participate in this mad attempt of pumpkins to take over the veggie plot. Did they think they were zuchini? If so, they had erred. They had landed themselves in a spot under a forsythia bush were I had hidden the potato failure, alongside a tomato that had taken a beating in the two hurricanes of July and had been shoved to the back of the herd and this odd one that was growing along the edge of the carrot container.

Here we were, 4 adults squatting down along the edge of the veggie patch, which is located at the edge of the garbage, recyling and gate, all looking at two of the vines. We were searching for evidence of a pumpkin. Lots of flowers had come and gone but nothing had fertilized so there was still some low grumblings that maybe it wasn't a pumpkin plant but rather wild gourds. I don't know who made that comment. They should blush.

A few weeks later I was doing the fall clean up and neatly clipped off the bottom leafs of all tomato plants in a rather futile attempt to get the green fruits to go red. I hauled all the planter boxes out of the area and over to the compost area to be dumped and stirred and to add some fabulous worm pee and while doing all that, I found this.



A pumpkin. And not just any pumpkin, one with a rather grand impression of itself. It set itself on this small pedestal with no human intervention. Now that is a pumpkin with attitude.




It is September 27th and I have my doubts this dude is going to ripen to a bright orange but who am I to knock down hubris (unless it's Steve running amok with himself) so we'll leave it for as long as possible and see what it gets up to.

Canned peaches - what not to do and still get 'em

Again with the local peaches, and Bernardin recipes. We bought some yummy local peaches from the Annapolis Valley at Bob and the Boys along Highway 103, exit 14. Bob and the Boys is a great fresh produce store, open long hours and a long season. We spied these local peaches and knew it was now or never. We bought 20, 10 for the fruit cocktail and 10 for canned peaches. We knew we would run short but there were only 20 peaches left. The Ontario peaches were in and we could have bought the remaining 10 peaches right then, but, like fools, we decided we would try and get local peaches in Halifax instead of taking advantage of the Ontario peaches right in front of us.

Steve boiled the peaches and skinned them and cut them up into lovely slices. I ground up the two Vitamin C tablets and added them to water and poured them over the peaches so they wouldn't turn brown. They didn't.

We paused and put all the garden furniture and potted plants BACK into the shed and garage because Hurricane Dan was following Hurricane Bill and since we have survived Hurricane Juan in 2003 (?) (it was a blur), we knew measures needed to be taken to prevent property damage.

Steve measured the cut peaches and we were 4 cups short of the amount needed. Pause to help daughter move stuff into her first apartment. Attempt to get to grocery store to buy more peaches. Hurricane Dan arrives in the form a tropical storm. Still, tons of water pouring out of the sky. Not enough peaches so we do other things. Return to helping daughter, this time with a drill and tool kit. Watch Steve responds to the looks of misery from the other kids as they can't build dressers or hang shelves. This time get to the grocery store. Stand in front of peaches and curse. One group of peaches from Mexico, another group of peaches from United States. No offense, but these aren't local. Not by a measure of a continent. No Ontario peaches. Why not, one wonders? They are just over one as a neighbour and are as close to local as Nova Scotia gets for some products. Still, this is not the time to ponder the ongoing negative brain power of this local supermarket. I choose..... United States peaches, because if I don't the whole canned peaches plan will go into the compost. The fruit is now half local, half foreign. The flavour of quioxite.

Back to the kitchen, Steve does his boiling peaches magic and voila, naked, sliced peaches. Stop. Time to go sailing. Yes sailing. The winds and waves have died down, the weather buoy at the mouth of the harbour has the waves at only 3 metres and we call the people we promised a sail to and off we go. Sailing is a whole other topic to which I will return one day. Sailing, sailing, over the deep blue seas... Stop. Phone call from distraught son. Distraught girlfriend in the background. The apartment they are moving into, after huge amounts of physical work already invested in getting out of their two old apartments, is not in suitable condition. Can they move in with us? Well really, they are calling from in front of our television, they just want us to know their day is hell, and they are in our home. For a while.

We arrive home, rather beaten by the winds and waves and lack of toilet paper to use the potty with and lo.... amongst the suitcases and shoes are 8 rolls of toilet paper. Too much, too late, wrong place. Listen to kids, offer soothing sounds and crawl into bed. Peaches languish in their vitamin C.

Sleep but not too much. Students are moving house all over the city and did you every watch “The Aristocats” by Walt Disney and the gang? Do you recall the scene where all the alley cats are on the fence and some noisy cat is playing the piano in an attic. That is Halifax in the first week or two of September. Quality of sound not comparable.

Up the next morning, work clothes on and we are underway. Sort of. Because I am utterly distractable. What should have taken an hour has concluded, finally, after three. The peaches are cleaned and ready to go. I wash the jars, and sterilize the lids and slip the jars into the oven to sterilize. I read the recipe. I notice that I need to make a syrup. Make the syrup and take the sterilized lids off the burner. Get the water bath going, take the nice clean jars out of the oven, probably too early but I am not following sequence well. The syrup has boiled and I'm about to roll along when ALL OF A SUDDEN, I notice I have sterilized the wrong sized jars. I don't need the 500 ml. jars, I need the 250 ml. jars. I backtrack and do the jar thing again. Turn the hot water bath down, because I am nowhere near ready.

Now I have to wait 15 minutes for the jars to be sterilized, so I start to write. This is what I was thinking about:
Things to have on hand when canning : 1) A wide mouth jar filler upper thing. This is not to be underestimated. It prevents tons of spillage, it prevents scalded fingers and it can be used all season long. 2) a collection of yucky tea towels. The ones that look awful but are clean to assist with cleaning up messes, not wrecking good tea towels and drying your hands on, over and over. 3) a second large pot. A biggy! You need one for the hot water bath process but you also need one for processing the fruit. Some fruit goes in uncooked, but most doesn't.

Beep, beep, beep, the timer is going and the jars are done. I carefully put the fruit into the jars and am about to ladle the syrup into the jars, all the while thinking about the issues around a second big pot. How to write about this in an interesting way? I stop and stare at my jars, looking lovely I might add, when I realize I have overlooked the processing the fruit step. Pour the whole mess back into the Second Large Pot and boil her up. Then ladle it all into the jars, top up with liquid, get rid of air bubbles and immerse into water bath. I did bring it back up to a boil and it boiled away merrily for the required 15 minutes. 15 minutes because these are 250 ml jars, remember?

Somewhere I thought I had read that the fruit can be packed into the jars raw (as in unboiled) and then the processing takes place during the hot water bath. But since I didn't have that in front of me in print but only in my unreliable brain, I decided to stick with the fool proof instruction. They haven't failed me yet.

To summarize, Things Gone Wrong: 1) not buying Ontario peaches when I had the chance, 2) Tropical Storm Dan, 3) repairing one kid's desk and shelves during process, 4) repairing strange kid's possessions during process, 5) sailing in the middle of the process, 6) two other kids moving into the house unexpectedly, 7) sterilizing the wrong sized jars, 8) forgetting to process the fruit, 9) Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that I had jar's worth of fruit left over and was thinking “wow, that's a lot left over!” when I spied the heading at the top of the recipe that said Yield: SEVEN x 250 ml. jars, as in not 6, 10) grabbing a 7th jar and flinging it into the process willy nilly and not marking it to use as the first jar to open.

Conclusion: Even though there is now one unsterilized jar in the mix, the piece of peach left over was some yummy.