A Little Bit of All Kinds of Stuff

Lots of little bits and pieces to talk about - where do I start? The smoke here is worse than ever. This morning I could barely see across the highway, two short blocks below us. That's Boris, our German Shorthair/pound hound, looking so regal lying there in the dirt. I had to do some laundry this morning, and used the electric dryer instead of hanging things out. I didn't want my clean clothes reeking of smoke. It's so thick it hurts my eyes to even be out in it.

The fires in California were all caused by lightning, but it's got everybody worried because we usually don't get the dry thunderstorm weather coming through here until late July or August. If the fire season is starting this early, it's going to cost a lot more tax dollars to fight the fires and, coming off a dry winter, lots more property could burn. Also, this week is the one-year anniversary of the big South Lake Tahoe fire that burned over 250 houses, so that brings up some bad memories. That fire last year was started by a teens' party campfire left unattended. Four years ago, a disastrous fire here in Carson City started the same way. The fire burned for four days, and over 50 houses were destroyed.

That fire burned towards our house the first day, but they stopped it on the ridge just to the north of us. We had fire trucks on both corners of our lot, and could see the line of fire fighters silhouetted all along the ridge. We were under a "be ready to evacuate" order then, so had the cat in the carrier, the dog inside on his leash, and the sleeping bags, some clothing, a few mementos and computer backup discs ready to go. The chickens we'd have to leave to fend for themselves, and in the past when we had horses we had to walk them down the street out of danger. That time, I was also packing to leave for my Africa trip the next morning, so I had all my things just thrown into garbage bags and I figured I'd finish packing in the evacuation center if necessary. It's scary. Do you have a list of what you'd take if you were in that situation?

But the fires aren't anywhere near us at present - just the smoke. I have to admit - it makes a nice filtered light for photos. So, let's move on to some other items: I love watching how our animals interact. The new chicks are doing fine in the coop with the rest of the flock. We had a little bantam rooster in the pen with the babies as they were growing up, and he's now taken charge of watching out for them. Yesterday evening, when I went out to shut up the coop (predator protection measure), a couple of the little Reds were still outside. I was just puttering around in the garden waiting for them to go in when I heard one of them squawking. I went over to see what was the matter, and that little rooster had come back out and was pulling the feathers on one's back. It was time to go in and he was telling her to quit messing around. As soon as he let go, she hopped through the door, with him right behind her, and I could close them all in for the night.

Mrs. Guinea wasn't in the coop last night, so she must have a nest somewhere now too. Male guineas don't stay with their mate by the nest during the night, so Grey was back in the coop as usual. But this morning, very early, Missus woke me up (guineas are very loud) calling for Grey. Of course, he was shut up inside the coop, so I had to get up and go open it up so he could fly out and join her, and then she was quiet. What's interesting to me is that tonight, when I went to shut up the coop, Grey wasn't inside. He was perched up on the gateframe of the pen, right next to the coop. Missus wasn't there again. He looked a bit uneasy, like I might try to chase him off the gate, but I told him he was fine. He's figured out she's not inside, and he can't get out until one of us opens up the coop, so he wanted to spend the night outside the coop. His reasoning ability amazes me.

I'm off to the San Francisco Bay Area tomorrow. My sister and I are going to see Allison Krause and Robert Plant in concert at the Greek Theater on the University of California at Berkeley campus. We both love live music, so this is quality time together for us. It will be a quick trip, because I have to be back up at the Lake Saturday afternoon for a training session for volunteers working the Shakespeare Festival at Sand Harbor this summer (how to do things for free, again).

A Hazy Day, and the Pecking Order

I heard on the news last night that there have been more than 800 lightning-caused fires in California since last Saturday. A lot of the them were knocked down quickly, but at least 200 aren't under control yet. Being downwind, we get the smoke - lots of smoke.

Last night, we could actually smell it. I even went out front to check things out because, as always, the smell of brush smoke makes me nervous. Today, standing on the deck looking east towards the garden, I can barely see Prison Hill less than a mile away, and nothing at all towards town to the north or over the ridge towards Carson Valley to the south. It's thick enough to make my eyes hurt, so I think I'll stay inside as much as possible today. Our weather forecast says more dry thunderstorms (lightning without rain - it evaporates before reaching the ground) Thursday and Friday - fire season is here.

This morning, Aries went to open up the chicken coop. As usual, first out were Grey and Mrs. Guinea. The hens are used to this - staying inside until the guineas grab a bite to eat and then fly out of the pen for the day. But the bigger of the Barred Rocks is used to bossing her penmates and getting to the food dish first every morning. When she tried that today, Grey let her know that was against procedure. He had her cornered against the fence and was pulling feathers off her backside before Aries stepped in. He said he was afraid Grey would kill her - that he was ready to drop-kick the guinea out of the pen if he could have caught him. Aries put the little one back into the nest box and came in to tell me about it before he left for work.

When I went down there later, the rest of the girls were on the perches, and then later had even gone outside. But the one Barred Rock (I usually wait to see personalities and physical characteristics before naming anyone) was still hiding out in the nest box. So I got her out of there and had her join the rest of the girls out in the pen. I pulled three spinach plants starting to bolt and threw them into the pen in different places. The hens staked out two, but let the new girls have the third, so it looks like everyone will be just fine (as soon as they learn that Grey is the cock of this walk). When I went out to check just now, the newcomers have one shade porch and the big girls have the other. BlackFluff and Baldy have gone broody again, so they're hunkered down in two of the nest boxes. I keep making them get up and out - without a rooster, there's no way they'll be hatching out any babies now.

Chicken Update 2008

I practice a system of integrated pest control instead of using chemicals. After the garden is harvested each fall, the chickens are allowed the run of the entire yard. They have a wonderful time scratching in the dirt looking for bugs and weed seeds. But during the growing season they can be too destructive to little plants just getting started so wings are clipped (on just one side only, we stretch the wing out and clip the end 1 - 3" of the big feathers - the idea isn't to prevent them from being able to lift off, but just to make them unbalanced enough that they don't want to try) and they're confined to their chicken yard for the summer.

The new girls, the six baby chicks we bought the end of April - two Barred Rocks and four Rhode Island Reds, got moved from the dog crate inside out to the dog run once the weather warmed up and they had most of their feathers. They've grown into lovely and happy pullets there, but I'm hoping for a family of keets (baby guineas) any day now, and they're gonna need that space. So the girls, plus a meek little wayward Buff Cochin bantam rooster that's been sharing the dog run, now have to move in with the rest of the flock.

So this evening, after we closed up the coop for the night, we went out and moved the girls. The nest boxes open from the back to allow for easy egg collection without going into the coop, so we just put everybody into a couple of the boxes for the night. In the morning, that will give them a bit of protection until they're ready to venture out. Then comes the tough part. Chicken communities have a definite pecking order, and the new girls will have to learn their place is at the bottom. At least they won't have a rooster jumping on them. We took in a neighbor's dog for a couple of weeks after he couldn't keep him anymore (and have now found him another home), but while he was here and the chickens were still on the loose, he pounced on our rooster (just playing, not to kill, but he's too big to play that rough - we found the rooster dead inside the coop later on, so he must have been internally injured). The hens seem happier without a rooster around anyway, and Grey Guinea is a lot calmer not having a rival male around so I guess everything worked out for the best. It's certainly a lot quieter in the mornings.

Little Critters

Organic gardening practices and living gently upon the land allow for a wide variety of little critters about the place. Most are welcome, a few are tolerated, some are fenced out, and only occasionally is someone removed (ie. rattlesnakes). With the return of warm weather, lots of our little friends are back.

Sneaky Snake, our resident gopher snake seen here peeking around some plant pots, has come out of hibernation from his den under the shed. He's a quiet fellow, helping keep the mouse population under control (field mice, believe it or not, can be deadly - merely sweeping up their dry feces transmits Hantavirus, a fatal respiratory disease). Gopher snakes are not venomous, and kill their prey by constriction instead of poisonous bite. But as a defense mechanism, they do a really good rattlesnake imitation. They can flatten out their heads to the viper's characteristic triangular shape and mimic the "rattle" sound by hissing, all the while shaking their naked little tails.

The carpenter bees are back too - buzzing about around the wood pile. These big shiny black bees live solitary lives instead of the communal life of honeybees. Each female creates her own little egg-laying tube in fenceposts or other scrap wood we have piled about. They share pollination duties with the honeybees - also back out and about - ensuring that I will have plenty of zucchini again this year.

Speaking of honeybees, Aries had an interesting day at work yesterday. He works in Facilities Maintenance for three of the resort hotel/casinos at South Lake Tahoe (fixing and maintaining everything from toasters to the big steam boilers in the basement to running the electrical for the big summer concerts - obviously, he's very handy to have around the house too). Yesterday, he was the Supervisor, so he was the one that took the call - a huge mass of bees was in the planter box right next to the sidewalk. "Should we call the exterminators; do we spray them with poison; we're scared - bees are dangerous!" Luckily, we've had bee hives in the past, and Aries has dealt with swarming bees before. He knows they're only looking for a new home, clinging to their queen while she rests, and very rarely sting while swarming. So Aries got a cardboard box, held the branch they were clustered on while a nervous co-worker cut it, and put the whole bunch into the box. Since he'd ridden his motorcycle to work, he couldn't bring them home (darn! I wouldn't mind having a hive around here again), so he carried the box out to the woods behind the casino and let them go there. Everybody's happy, and he's a hero.

Just a Born Lunatic Here

I love watching the night sky. In the dark of the moon, I love seeing the stars, but full moon nights can be so glorious (I even check the phase of the moon when booking vacation and camping reservations). To the east of us across the valley, Prison Hill runs north and south for more than a mile. The various ridgeline bumps and saddles, as seen from my house, are good references for seeing the difference in where the full moon rises throughout the year. The full moon just past rose surprisingly waaaaaaay to the south. It wasn't over any part of Prison Hill at all - it was so far to the south southeast that it rose over a low spot on the distant Pine Nut Mountains.

Years ago, when I first noticed a full moon rising way over the northeast end of the Hill, my first thought was akin to Chicken Little's - "oh no, our earth's axis is wobbling, we're all gonna die!" How terra-centric of me. I've since learned that it's the moon's orbit that varies over time - kinda like a spot on the edge of a plastic plate, dropped face-down, would wobble and tilt about before finally landing flat. That wobbling, tilting effect, above and below the plane of our equator, is what the moon's orbit does over an 18+ year cycle.

Then too, there are the seasonal variations. The full moon is always completely opposite the sun in the heavens; the new moon closely follows the sun's path. Since it's now summer in the northern hemisphere, the path of the sun is high in the sky with respect to our horizon and along with it, the new moon. In contrast then, the full moon runs low this time of year (and how convenient that in the winter the full moon runs high, providing more light during the longest nights). It's rising even more to the south than usual right now (here in the U.S. anyway - did it rise at all in northern Europe or Canada?). Quick, go look.

The Rest of the Garden is Planted - Finally!

I'm only a couple of weeks behind. Our last freeze is usually around the end of May, so I never plant most things until after the first of June anyway. But this year, what with going to Colorado and everything else happening around here, I'm a bit later than usual getting everything into the ground. But now it's done!

In this year's "early" bed, the last of the arugula has been harvested and replaced with kale plants, and parsley plants have been set in among the last of the spinach. The three varieties of peas (English, snap, and snow) are blooming, so I'll have fresh peas any day now.

In the "roots" bed, the potatoes - Yukon Gold and Russet, held over in the cellar from last year's harvest, are planted a few inches deep and then topped with a foot of straw inside a stake and wire framework. I created this method after reading about people putting cardboard boxes over their plants and then filling them with straw to make harvesting easier. I didn't have any boxes, but this way I re-use the wire year after year and the straw goes into the compost pile in the fall.

The blue bedsheet stretched over a wire frame and held down with another piece of wire is shading the carrot seeds. They dry out so easily that I never had a very good germination rate until I started covering them until they've sprouted. On around the rest of the bed are beet seeds, then cabbages, broccoli and calendula plants. One good thing about being so late is that I didn't bother putting the Wall-o-Waters around my tomato, eggplant, and pepper plants. When I set them out around Memorial Day, they need the protection because the nights are still so cold, and then I usually leave them on until the first of July. This year, I'll see if they get going ok without them. My plants are quite small compared to what people buy in the stores, but I think that lessens the transplant shock and then they catch up quickly.

We make a big compost pile every autumn, grinding up the green garden waste, leaves from our trees and the straw mulch, and from cleaning out the chicken coop. Before planting, each of my five garden beds gets an inch or so of compost dug in along with a light sprinkling of my fertilizer mix (equal amounts of bonemeal, bloodmeal, and greensand mixed together in a bucket). In the "fruiting" bed, the tomatoes, eggplants and peppers also get a big pinch of Epsom salts (magnesium) and crushed eggshells (calcium) in each of their planting holes to prevent blossom-end rot. In the "vining" bed - cukes, zukes, and squash - squash bugs have been a problem in the past, but last year I planted a big Chinese storage radish (called Watermelon radish) in between the squash plants and didn't see a single bug! I'm trying that again this year - the radishes grow to the size of baseballs over the entire summer under the squash leaves, don't go to seed, and then keep all winter long down in the cellar. Can't beat that!

Last of my five raised "S"-shaped soaker-hose beds is the "corn and beans" bed. I used to try seeding more corn every couple of weeks to extend the harvest, but that was bothersome and it seemed the earlier plantings were delayed by the cold nights so that everything ended up getting ripe all at the same time anyway. Now, I seed all my corn at the same time but plant different varieties. Some are ready in 60 days, some in 80, and some take 95-100 days. This works great - I eat fresh-picked corn for more than a month!

Home for Wayward Guineas

We currently have three guinea fowl - Grey Guinea, a male that took up residence in our chicken coop years ago after a neighbor tore down his coop and set all his chickens and guineas free when he moved away (the jerk! If we'd known he was going to do that, we would have taken them all in. As it was, the coyotes had a field day. Grey was the only one smart enough to move up into the trees, and then when the weather turned cold, he was smart enough to figure out that inside our coop would be nicer. He's been here ever since); Mrs. Guinea, Grey's mate and one of a brother/sister pair given to us half-grown (her brother, The Bachelor, disappeared two years ago - moved on or more likely, coyote chow); and Tweedit, a single chick Mrs. brought home in late September three years ago. We hand-raised Tweedit inside the house that winter, and she'll still eat out of my hand.

Guineas are semi-feral. They easily fly out of the pen and roam about. About a week and a half ago, Tweedit didn't come back to the coop at night. That meant either we'd lost her, or she'd hidden a nest and now was going to set on it. Happily, I've seen her every now and then, grabbing a bite to eat and a quick drink of water and then she'll disappear again. A couple of days ago, I was able to follow her, and found her nest out in front, next to the shed between the house and the garage. Outside the fence is a dangerous place to be nesting, but at least she picked a pretty good place, down underneath some very prickly Oregon Grape.

And then today, while I was out working in the garden, I saw her getting some food. Since now I know where the nest is I ran to see how many she's setting on. I counted about 25 eggs. Usually, not all of them will hatch. Last year, both she and Mrs. brought in a dozen keets each (we put a notice on Craigslist and gave all of them away within six hours). My Old Farmers Almanac says a 26 - 28 day incubation period for guinea fowl, so I'm thinking we should have some babies around here about the 25th. When she brings them to me, the new chickens will have to move from the dog run to the chicken coop, so Tweedit and family can move in.

Watch Your Step!

I've been busy - working on the garden, my volunteer activities, and taking part in my first political forum last night. I'll write about those things here eventually, I'm sure, but wanted to post these pictures a friend sent me a couple of days ago.

The first one just looks like one of our typical dry, high-desert chaparral hillsides, doesn't it? Nothing really very remarkable, is there? Or is there? Take a closer look, right there in the middle of the picture (for a closer look, you can click on any of the photos, or just keep reading).

These photos were taken a couple of weeks ago, a few miles north and east of here. When you get a bit closer, you can see that's not just a differently-colored pile of dirt down in that hole (I don't know that I would even get close enough to have taken these photos - gives me the willies just looking at them). It's alive! And moving!

It's an entire den of Great Basin rattlesnakes, just waking up from their winter's hibernation, out for a bit of sun. Now I don't really mind having a snake around. I don't care for the "startle" factor when I first see one, but for the most part they can really be quite helpful keeping the rodent population down. We've had a little gopher snake out under our shed for the past couple of years, and he's actually quite cute when he does his rattlesnake imitation - he'll curl up and shake his naked little tail and hiss.

But real rattlesnakes are a different story. If we get one around the place, we'll try relocating it - Aries will gently pick it up with a long stick and carry it down the road to the open hillsides. But some like the easier pickin's around the chicken coop (the mice really like the scratch corn we give the chickens as a treat) and come back. In that case we'll kill them, but have only done that twice in the 20 years we've been here. But this is still the wild west out here in some ways, so you always have to be aware of where you're putting your feet when out hiking in these hills - especially around open rock formations in the summer and into the fall. And once you hear that distinctive rattle, you'll never forget it.

Sheep in the City

We had something a bit out of the ordinary happen this morning. We woke early, and when Aries went out to bring in the newspaper he noticed a big cloud of dust rising up out of the canyon above the house. Since there was no wind, no sound of off-road vehicles or dirt motorcycles, and it was a beautiful blue-sky morning, that seemed a bit odd. In just a couple more minutes, a flock of sheep rounded the corner where our road turns to go up the canyon. As they came south down the road towards our house, Aries came in to tell me. We went out behind the garage to watch the show. When the flock reached the corner north of our lot, they stopped and were turned to head east.

The sheep didn't want to go east, so for a while there was quite a bit of milling about - no sheep wanted to be the one in front (literally - they all wanted to follow like sheep). With maybe a dozen people and at least three dogs circling around, eventually the flock turned the corner and started down the hill along our north fence line. Since it was early on a Sunday morning, there wasn't much traffic on the highway below as the flock crossed at the stoplight and continued across the valley. How nice that they even had a street sweeper there to follow behind once the flock hit the paved streets below. I'm not sure if they were just being moved to a summer pasture closer to the river, or if they're intended somewhere for fire-fuel suppression duty. Around here, grazing sheep are a very cost-effective and low-impact way to thin the brush and eliminate the highly flammable cheatgrass in the open spaces around our town. Nice to know they'd been "working" in the canyon above us.

Spinach the Size of Rhubarb

I love spinach salad (especially with this dressing) but our growing season for spinach can be problematic. High-desert spring weather can go from freezing cold to wilting heat in the space of a day (and back again - snow in June isn't completely unheard of). It's a delicate balancing act to get spring-seeded spinach big enough to pick before it bolts and starts sending up a seed stalk.

So instead, I sow my little spinach patch in the late fall when I plant my garlic and shallots. I like Bloomsdale Long-Standing, both for its ability to withstand both heat and cold, and for the meaty, smooth, easy-to-clean leaves. With luck, the seeds lie dormant until late February, when the melting snows and lengthening days make the perfect conditions for germination. I've been eating spinach salads for weeks now. In the photo, one plant that was too close to the edge of the protecting wire cage is a bit bird-pecked, but the rest are still doing great. On down the soaker hose behind are garlic and then shallots. Following the hose around to the left are some of the spring-seeded peas, with onion plants further back.

Every week, I cut a plant or two down to a couple of inches. Washed in a sink full of cool water, picked through and stems removed, the leaves keep nicely for days, wrapped in a clean cotton dish towel and then tied up in a plastic grocery bag. This past week we've had cold and rainy weather, so the spinach has just gone crazy. I'm picking spinach leaves the size of rhubarb! Not only do I have enough for salads daily (one leaf can make a salad), but this year, even enough to freeze. I dunk the leaves into boiling water for just a minute to blanch them, then cool in a sinkful of cold water and drain. most of my spinach recipes call for half a 10-oz package of frozen spinach, so I pack a 1/2 cup measure heaping full, make that into a little spinach patty, and put them on a cookie sheet. Frozen on the sheet, each disk is then wrapped in plastic wrap and all stored in a gallon freezer bag. This way, I can easily pull out just enough for a recipe for the two of us all next winter.

Memorial Day

Thinking of the famous war poem, In Flanders Field, I took this picture of red poppies in bloom, with my flags flying from my deck railing in honor of Memorial Day. We used to have a little, tiny, deck outside the kitchen door, with uneven steps down and then up again to go around the east side of the house. Between the uneven walkway and the house were foundation plantings of overgrown juniper bushes - not really a very good idea in a dry area with the threat of wildfire always hanging over us. Junipers, with their natural resins, can go up like gasoline in a fire situation.

So, when we rebuilt the deck to connect across to the walkway, I was only too happy to pull out those junipers and put something else in there. I scattered some mixed spring bulbs over the area and planted each where it fell (ground squirrels LOVE tulip bulbs, but won't touch daffodils - so mixing the bulbs together means they haven't destroyed the tulips and hyacinths). Since the little garden patch was right outside my kitchen door, I moved some herb plants there too. But it looked a bit sparse after the bulbs died back, so I also threw a bunch of really old wildflower seeds into the area too. To keep the chickens out, a little white picket fence completed the scene.

It's now a beautiful, ever-changing little garden (seen in various other guises in earlier posts). The early-summer wildflowers - blue and white flax, red Icelandic poppies, purple chive blossoms, and something with a cloud of pink flowers - are now three feet tall. I'll use them, and the ones that will bloom later, as my seed supply for a meadow-like garden I'd like to seed outside our fence. I'm just hoping they don't completely crowd out my herbs. All summer long, I pinch bits and pieces as I need them for my cooking, but also cut entire bunches in late summer to hang and dry for winter recipes, teas, and medicinal uses. If it gets too crowded, I might have to move either herbs or wildflowers, but in the meantime I love sitting out on the deck any time of year.

Memorial Services

I'm home again, after a very emotional week in Colorado. My mom and two sisters had taken care of a lot of the arrangements before my two brothers and I made it home. Such a difference from when my in-laws passed. Aries' family is so different from mine - they observed no services, no family get-togethers, nothing.

My family is different. We all needed to be together. There were lots of hugs and tears but it was a healing experience too. One sister had a birthday that week, so we all went out to dinner to her favorite Mexican food place one night. Everybody got into a cribbage game or two, childhood friends dropped by, we took turns checking our email on one brother's laptop, cooked and ate family dinners together. I put together a couple of collage displays for the services from the photos Mom liked best. We three sisters went to a yoga class. We watched another brother's favorite DVD movie. Dad would have loved having the whole family together there (darn, now I'm making myself tear up again).

The memorial service was very nice. Dad was a Mason, so the Masonic Lodge did their formal ceremony. The man leading the opening prayer got so choked up he couldn't finish and I was afraid he was going to collapse on the spot, but another Lodge brother got up and took over. It was very touching. The funeral home had put together a nice video display, my sister's childhood friend sang, the pastor read the obituary my sister wrote, and afterwards there was a luncheon reception with food brought by all Mom's friends.

Dad was WWII Army veteran, having served in the 10th Mountain Division in Italy and the Aleutian Islands. After the service and reception, we had a family-only, full military honors ceremony at Fort Logan Cemetery. Taps was played, and the flag unfurled and refolded and presented to Mom. Half of Dad's ashes, wrapped in his Mason's apron, will be interred there.

The next day, we drove up into the Rocky Mountains to one of Mom and Dad's favorite fishing and camping spots. We chose a high little point overlooking the lake, where a few early wildflowers were already in bloom and a couple of small butterflies flitted, even though a snowbank still lingered down by the road. There we scattered the rest of his ashes, along with some wildflower seeds and our silent goodbyes. Amazingly, a hummingbird perched on a nearby branch to watch. It was all sad and bittersweet and really a lot of planning and ritual, but then too brought a necessary and comforting sense of closure.

So now I'm home, sleeping once more in my own bed. I've got a garden to plant (although it snowed for a bit here yesterday), a campaign to plan, baby chicks out in the dog run, a new dog in the house (more on that later), and with the official Memorial Day start of the tourist season, work assignments starting to come in. Life goes on.

My Hat's in the Ring

I trusted my gut: saying to myself that I would run for office made me feel calm inside, saying I wouldn't just made me feel anxious. So, I went down to our county clerk's office, paid my $100 filing fee, signed lots of forms saying I'd run a positive campaign and report all my expenditures and that I really intended to see this through. I proved I was who I said I was, and that I lived in the right place to run for this office. They gave me a big packet of information on what I can and can't do and when to do it by, and now I'm an official candidate. Sometimes, if you want to live in a more sustainable, more aware, greener community, you have to work from within the system, and be one of those that makes the policies. Now I'm off to Colorado for my dad's memorial services and just to be with my family.

Albert was Right

A couple of months ago, I wrote about something outside frightening my cat, Albert, so badly that he wouldn't leave the house for weeks. Then, about a month ago, a mile across the valley from us, a rancher started finding his sheep dead with small holes in the neck. They looked like small-caliber bullet wounds perhaps, so he installed a video camera to find out who might be shooting his sheep. A couple of nights ago, with another dead ewe, he reviewed the tapes to see if he could catch the vandal in action. The story and video are here, from our local newspaper's website. At 2:16 on the first video, the powerful body and long tail of the culprit is instantly recognizable - a mountain lion! In the second video, it jumps over a fence, snatches a lamb, jumps back out with it and carries it away. With it now preying regularly on livestock, so close to town and not afraid of humans, the cougar was considered threat enough to be trapped and killed. It turned out to be a 130-pound male. Albert was smart to be scared.

This and That, and Some Sad News

This is just a quick little catch-up post. The six baby chicks have doubled in size, with wing and tail feathers over bodies and heads of baby fluff. I've been taking them outside to spend the day in the dog run lined with chicken wire. I'm using the cat carrier to transport them, putting it down in a little enclosed, shady spot with the door open. They hop in and out, exploring and scratching and dust bathing, and in the evening they've all gone back into it so I just close it up and bring them back into the house to the dog crate and their warming light for the night.

It was time to have our septic tank pumped out again, so Aries spent an evening digging up the lid and then I spent a morning waiting for the service truck to come. I'm still mulling over running for City Supervisor, but thinking I might as well throw my hat in the ring. It will be quite a learning experience. I transplanted my tomato, pepper, eggplant seedlings into individual little cups so they can be more easily moved to the garden at the end of the month, and have been hardening off the cabbages, broccoli, and kale plants out on the table on the deck.

And now for the sad news: my dad passed away in Colorado last night. I hope I can go as easily when my time comes - he was at my sister's cabin, along with her husband, my mom, and another sister. They'd gone there for the weekend, had just finished dinner, and he was still sitting at the table when he just put his head down and was gone. I'm making plans to fly out there later this week for the services next Thursday, so posts might be a bit sporadic for a while longer. Thank you in advance for your thoughts and your prayers.
~Sadge

Art, Music, and Culture - Free

Sorry I've been a bit MIA here lately - I took for a few days to visit my sister in the San Francisco Bay Area. It's always so nice to see her and her family there, and I love any chance I can get to just go somewhere, anywhere. But I had another reason for going down there this past weekend. We volunteer-ushered a concert Saturday night.

For us, both being big music fans, it's quality time together doing something we both enjoy. I know the bands we heard probably aren't even on the radar of my readers, but I wanted to mention this because it's the best way I know of to get to see and do cultural events, for free! We like live rock music, so we've found the venues that use volunteers for rock concerts, but this idea can work for just about any cultural event, or for museums, in your town too. Volunteering time instead of spending money is a very viable and affordable option to get out and about. Concert volunteers are usually "cut" early in the evening, so then they can just join the crowd and enjoy the rest of the event. Plus, once you get on the list for an organization, you'll also get invited to the year-end thank-you parties, or maybe get free tickets for another show.

As for our concert this weekend, it was the Progressive Nation Tour - with four bands: Three, Between the Buried and Me, Opeth, and Dream Theater (see, you probably never heard of them). The first three bands were a bit too "metal" for me, but I really liked Dream Theater. And I really love working this venue. The Paramount Theater in Oakland, California is a restored Art Deco Depression-era movie theater - a splendid example of ornate, rococo, gaudy, let's-go-nuts-in-public decorative art, fully and lovingly restored and ornamental as all get-out. In order to work there, volunteers have to go through the tour. It was amazing hearing about how the enormous decorative panels forming the theater walls and the proscenium arch were made and then erected, about the pipe organ still in place, the tunnels and crawl spaces above and below, the myriad little decorative touches everywhere - even the restrooms are amazing! When I don't care for the artists performing, I love spending my time just walking around the place, and I really love the interaction with all the people. Figure out what you'd like to see or do, start asking questions - get yourself on the upcoming events list for the places you'd like to spend some time (instead of money) - and ask who to talk to about volunteering.

Chicks in the Spare Room

Missy, a little brown leghorn we took in years ago, would hide a nest each year, then disappear and three weeks later, return with a new clutch of just-hatched chicks. She was a good mother hen, but is now getting too old to lay anymore (at least, I think so - she's been back in the coop every night so far this year). Anyway, we now have quite a few brown half-breed chickens, that still have the urge to set, and to fly. But a hen that's gone broody isn't laying any eggs, and I'm really getting tired of having ones that can fly over the garden fences digging up my plantings. I want some colorful, pure-bred chickens again.

I got one of our broody hens, Baldy, moved from a nest box to the dog run-turned-brooding pen a few nights ago - just scooped her up, along with her golf balls, on a dark night and she seemed content to stay. I think I could have slipped the new feed-store pure-bred chicks under her ok. But we like having the chickens as pets, ones that will come up and eat from our hands. Chicks raised by a mother hen aren't as friendly. So, on the way home from the feed store, we decided to raise the new babies inside like we used to do. When I got home, I took the golf balls away from Baldy (and BlackFluff too) and made them get out into the sunshine again - time to get back into egg production, ladies.

Chick Central, until they get enough feathers to withstand the cold nights outside, is in my guest room/home office/sewing room. The brood pen is a dog crate, set on my sewing/craft table that just spans across the end of the guest bed. I've flipped the crate upside-down, so that the windows are down at their level and slid a stick across through the bars for a low-level perch. For the time being, they're small enough to go back and forth underneath the perch, but eventually they'll want to use it. Since these chicks are already pretty good-sized and have strong legs, I've put newspapers down on the bottom for easily changed "diapers" (for just hatched babies, newspapers are too slick and could possibly lead to leg problems - add straw or sawdust on top of the paper).

I already had the chick-starter feed, a small feeder, and a small ceramic plant saucer for a water dish - small enough that they can't drown, heavy enough that they won't tip it over. Last item is their heat source - a nightlight fixture with a small vanity bulb (we've also used the big, outdoor, Christmas lightbulbs), plugged into an extension cord threaded through the window bars and taped to the ceiling so that it hangs down close enough for them to snuggle under and around. So, dear readers, meet the new girls - four Rhode Island Reds and two Plymouth Barred Rocks - heavier non-flying, good-laying breeds - chirping quietly and scratching about in there as I type.

This isn't Simple at All

The weather is warming up, the garden and rest of the yard are calling my name, Ciara has tagged me for a meme that I want to answer, and Rhonda Jean has asked her readers to tell their stories about how they live. I really want to get to all of these, and will, eventually, but I've had some busy events outside the home lately.

By watching our expenses and eliminating all debts, we can now afford for me to not work full-time. I love it because it allows me to be a very active volunteer in my community. I've been a member of my local Soroptimist International club for years, and for the past 1½ years have also been Treasurer. I love the chance to meet and work with lots of great women, and the funds we raise really make a difference for a lot of underserved women and children in our area. Our entire Sierra Nevada Region, 59 clubs throughout California and Nevada, is meeting for an annual conference in Reno all weekend, and I'm participating in those meetings.

Besides Soroptimists, I've also been quite visible in various other community efforts around town for the last 20+ years - most of them working towards a cleaner and greener community. I chaired our local Shade Tree Council, an advisory board to the City Board of Supervisors, for years. I'm on the Board of Directors of Muscle Powered, a local non-profit advocating for a pedestrian- and bicycle-friendly town and local trails system. I help a local political group with their Adopt-A-Highway cleanups, and am often out there whenever some other community effort needs help. I chaired my precinct's Presidential caucus earlier this year. When our city started a year-long Leadership Class, my employer at the time sponsored me to attend. I also have a B.S. degree, earned on the 25-year plan, in Human Ecology, with a focus on Community Services Administration; I did my internship with the City Parks & Recreation Department. So maybe it's not quite so surprising what's currently happening.

A local "progressive" political action group has recently formed because they figure the best way to get a cleaner and greener community is to get champions for that mindset into local political office. They've approached me because they think I might be a good candidate to run for one of the local positions open in this fall election. I live in the right Ward, they think I have the name recognition and the "street cred" to be a viable candidate, I've got the time to devote to running for office. So, now I'm talking things through in my head - I know I could do a good job; do I really want to do this? Can I handle the rejection if I don't win; can I handle the politics if I do? Do I really want to be in the spotlight like that? Am I totally crazy for even considering getting into the political arena in this downward-spiraling economic climate? I wouldn't be doing it for the power or glory - but our town is on the cusp of some really big changes and it would be nice to have an effect on those decisions. This is a really scary, big decision. I've got until mid-May, the filing deadline, to decide.

Under Pressure - Beans in a Pressure Cooker

I grew up in Denver, Colorado, the mile-high city. One of our standard junior high science class experiments was measuring the temperature of boiling water. The higher in altitude, the lower the temperature at which water boils. So, when I grew up, I knew that things would take longer to cook than stated in recipes written for sea-level cooks. Then, I moved to Leadville, Colorado.

Leadville, at 10,250 feet, is the highest city in the U.S. - essentially two miles high. I had to learn to cook all over again. Quartered potatoes needed to boil for an hour! But there was a time-saving solution - with a pressure cooker, altitude ceases to be an issue. I could have tender potatoes, soups, or stews in less than 15 minutes time. That alone was worth learning to use this scary-sounding device.

My cooker is the type with a rocker-type weighted control with three different size holes for the differing pressures. It will hold 4 narrow-mouth pint canning jars, so can also be used for small-batch pressure canning. When it reaches pressure, regulated by which side of the pressure control is down, it rocks the weight and rattles and hisses as the steam escapes. I lower the heat until the hissing spurts are 1-2 times per minute. I can then set the timer and go about my business around the house, knowing to come check if the sound stops.

Where pressure cookers really shine is cooking beans. Dry beans are so economical, but the time involved in preparation leads a lot of busy women to buy canned beans instead. I'll sometimes soak my beans overnight if I'm making a crockpot recipe the next day, or I've also used the speed-soak method of bringing them to a boil for 10 minutes and letting them sit for an hour if I've got the time to then cook them for 3-4 hours. But with a pressure cooker I can make a soup or chili, from dry beans and scratch ingredients, in less than a hour (pre-soaking, if you have the extra hour, helps keep pressure-cooked beans intact as they cook).

Pick over and rinse your dry beans, then put them in the pressure cooker, without the inside rack, with 3-4 times as much water. In my pressure cooker, 2 cups beans and 6 cups water works out right. I just add water until it's at least an inch above the beans - as long as you fill the cooker only half-full. Seal the cooker, and bring to 15 pounds pressure. Most beans - pinto, red, white, black, and soy - take 30 minutes once the cooker is up to pressure (garbanzos take 45 minutes; do NOT cook split peas or pea soup in a pressure cooker - they can foam up and block the steam valve). When the time is up, cool the cooker under cold running water until the pressure drops, open it, and you've got cooked beans ready to eat, as is, or to add to the soup/chili ingredients you've prepared in the meantime. Tonight, I started some white beans in the cooker; cut up, then simmered butternut squash, carrots, and onions; and pureed them just in time to add the beans. Home-cooked bean soup for dinner in less than an hour.

Oh, Brrrrr!

Well, that cold front definitely came through. Night before last, it snowed a bit and temps went down to 27º. The fruit trees were looking pretty ragged. Then, last night's low was 22º so that's probably enough to do in most everything currently in bloom. I'm afraid to go look. The cold was too much for Spots, our old Barred Rock hen, too - we found her dead in one of the nest boxes this morning. We don't butcher our hens, they're our pets as well as egg factories. We keep them around as "boarders" as long as they live. I'm not sure, but think Spots was about 12 years old. She was slowing down quite a bit, but would still come up to eat out of my hand, and even laid an egg a couple of weeks ago.

So that leaves us with 9 hens and a rooster (plus 3 guineas - 2 hens and a cock) in the chicken house. Of the ten chickens, six are Missy's offspring - including Ivan, our rooster. Baldy is still wanting to set, so I'm still thinking of trying to get her to foster some feed-store chicks. I want to get her moved from a nest box to the brooding pen I've made out of the dog run. I'm thinking about moving her in the dark of night, after this full moon wanes, so she won't try to go back to the coop. Plus, the weather is supposed to warm up again in a few more days, so if she does reject the chicks they'll have a better chance of surviving until I can get them inside and under a light for warmth. I'm new to fostering out chicks - we've raised chicks inside until feathered out, and just kept the ones that Missy brought in. Missy's been acting squawky and sneaky, but is back in the coop every night - I think she's getting too old to lay any more. She might foster a brood, but I'm also afraid she'd know they weren't hers and kill them.

There is good news around here too. I saw four bees out on the grape hyacinths, so at least I know there's still a surviving hive around here somewhere nearby. And the asparagus is starting to come up. The first sprouts are all flopped over from the freezing weather, but at least I know the roots are still ok. I repaired the fence around that plot, added some compost, and fixed up a new section of soaker hose. Now that the weather is supposed to warm up again, I hope to be eating fresh asparagus soon. I also added compost to the strawberry patch. The first blooms there are black in the center, so they froze too. But that means I'll get a better harvest later of lots of medium-sized berries instead of the one big one with lots of little ones (barring many more 20º nights, that is).