Why we summer

Well. I've waxed philosophical about my love of edibles in the landscape, but haven't offered a lot in the way of images. This was today's harvest. I bring this much in every 2-3 days. Canning tomatoes and making sauce is in the coming week's plan. 

I'm hoping that the beans will be coming on in greater numbers soon, because there is nothing that compares to the flavor of Kentucky Wonder Pole Beans. Except maybe HomeGrown Tomatoes? As Guy Clark so famously sang, Ain't Nothin' in the world that Money can't buy except True Love and Homegrown tomatoes.Even though this was recorded in our time, it took T, a friend of ours, to alert me to it. No truer words. .  .

 

And in my new daftness, I had completely forgotten that pole beans are tough to grow on Teepee poles, which is what I have in my garden right now. A father-in-law of mine had put an old bed spring in his garden, facing at an angle to the sun. He planted the beans along the front of it, and let them grow up the lattice of the bed springs. Very use-what-you-have.  It works well for pumpkins and vine growing squash as well. It turns out that old bed springs are pretty hard to come by these days, so I had made a simple frame out of 2 x 2's, strung it with strings every 4-6", and that worked terrifically too. That way the vines grow up the frame, but the beans hang to the back of it, so you can slip under and harvest them as they size.

I forgot to post this. Oh well. So I'll close with a shot of the sunset tonight. The colors on the photo aren't true to the human eye. . .the sun appears to be red to us, but white to the camera. I'm sure someone can explain this to me, but it's beautiful in it's way, in spite of being a figment of the smoke filled haze.

Smoke in the valley

Smoke across the valley

It seems like every summer I remember the heat, but somehow forget the smoke. We had a break from it last summer. In fact, 2019 was a mild summer, and we had relatively few fires or smoke from other states' fires. In hindsight, maybe it was setting us up for 2020. The lull before the storm. 

Smoky sunrise in Denver

As usual, I walked Jasper early this morning. Not quite as early as usual, since the morning was cool-ish and the morning was not as bright as usual, so we slept later. Of course when we opened up, we saw that the darkness was not clouds but smoke. A lot of it. I was sorry I didn't take my camera with me when on our walk. The sun was a distinct orange-red ball in the sky. This image taken in Denver gives a close approximation of what we saw. .  .

Even now, a couple of hours later, my eyes are burning, and my throat feels scratchy.  We are lucky in Idaho, so far, in that we haven't had a lot of fires. The smoke is blowing in from Oregon and California. California is once again dealing with an incredible number of fires. What a mess we are making of this planet.

But! Good things can happen indoors today. We close the house against the smoke, and pay attention to work: clay in this case. I realized this morning that I had forgotten a crucial practical element on the birdhouse. While I put plenty of ventilation holes under the eaves, I forgot to put them in the floor, so there will be a flow of air up the lower holes and through the nest. . carrying not only heat, but any of their aromas up and out to keep the air fresh for babies! 

My patient slow drying of this piece is paying off, because I could still remove the house from the base and cut some holes! Yay. A maker-error avoided. Not that there won't be more!

Base of small-bird house

 Here's the base after the holes were cut. I stated with a couple of heart shaped holes (with tiny cookie cutters), but was afraid they might be too big. I don't want any baby birds falling through. Probably not a real worry, since the piece will still shrink 13% before all is said and done. I went with a fairly large straw instead to cut the holes, and put in four around the base as well. These will be used to screw the whole thing to a painted plywood base that I can securely attach to the 4x4 post in the yard.

 

House reset on base (sorry for the bad image)

Honestly, I'm pretty excited about this little project. There is always the possibility for disappointment, but I'm feeling oddly hopeful today. It may have been the Democratic convention. Some cause for hopeful change, though also cause for more disappointment if things don't go well. I will suspend worry on that one for now. . .

Speaking of clay. . . .

Birdhouse 2. Bmix with grog, slab built

So. It's back to the clay after far too long away. This is the second slab built birdhouse that I've made. The first one was broken on the way to the kiln. That was a couple of months ago. It just broke my heart, but I think this one is better than the first, so I just needed to gird my loins and Do It.

 

 It looks pretty big right now at 12", but will shrink 13% in the series of firings that it needs to withstand. It's going through a very slow drying under plastic, in hopes that all of those joints and different moisture level bits of clay will come to equilibrium and decide to stick together. Sort of like us in the pandemic.

I'm really happy with the details. The house part is mounted on the base on a flange so I can take it off to clean it out when the birds leave for the winter. Each side is textured differently, and I have vent holes in the top of each side so that it shouldn't get too hot for the little guys. I'll need to figure out a platform (probably wood) that I'll mount to the top of the pole where the old one currently resides.

Glazing will be a challenge (I don't think I've told you how much I hate glazing), but I have time to think about that. It will probably take a week to dry, and then there will be the bisque firing.

While I was at it, I watched my friend J's YouTube on plate making, and tried, once again, to throw a plate. It's funny to me that a plate is supposed to be one of the easiest things to throw, and yet I have tried and failed many time, while other forms are easier for me.

Made it to First Base. . .Plate, I mean

 I also don't love throwing BMix. Most folks find it easy, but for me, porcelain is a much easier clay to throw. That will be my next plate. Cracking may be more of an issue, though.

Meanwhile, in the garden, I picked a boatload of tomatoes. . cherry and big. . .today. What a bonus. All of the triple-digit weather has consequences! I may have to can the bigger guys once they get to full-ripe. We also had an eggplant, and I'm really going to compost the remaining zucchini plants. They are taking over the whole garden, and are not making babies. So really. They're prickly, and no longer reproducing. Like me! Done and done!

Who is that girl?

 

Allium schubertii, Garden Diva

Who is that crazy girl in my yard? Ok. This isn't the actual plant in my yard. But I do have This species of plant. . . only one. . .and the seedhead was just crazy full of plump black seeds. 

Here's something you may not know about the subspecies Homo sapiens horticulturus. We never get over mulch and collecting seeds. Even though I haven't practiced as a professional for almost 20 years, those two things remain impossible to resist.

Anyway. After I collected the dried seeds, I decided to try to figure out who she is. The internet. What a thing. She is Allium schubertii, commonly called the Tumbleweed Allium. We have the more common Allium varieties in white and purple all over the yard. They clearly self-seed, but this girl is a one-off. 

 So I'll plant more, right? Next spring. Her seeds need to be chilled, and then stratified, and then, 8 weeks before planting, planted and tended to with diligence. Possibly with ardor. The other thing that a plantsman never seems to get over is the optimism of planting. The belief that the world (and your yard) will still be here to support whatever plants you want to give a chance in this life. I found an English Walnut seedling in our yard, and I have it potted and closely watched. I'll plant it somewhere, even though it won't fruit for at least 10 years. It's a piece of optimism in myself that surprises me, as a morose old woman. That thing called Hope. It's a killer, because it's evil twin, Disappointment, is often close behind. But it remains irresistible. . .at least horticulturally.

Seedhead, Allium schubertii

 

unaccredited drawing

Remarkable. . .

It's Hot. Let me sleep. . .

 We have been remarkably unmotivated. It's true that Jasper is lively and excited about and on his morning walk, but other than that, the somewhat unexpected late summer heat, and the malaise of the pandemic is hard to paddle upstream against. 

This mornings walk was along the river. It was beautiful and uncrowded at 7am, and Jasper is increasingly prancey dancey on these walks. He has to be woken up in the morning (very unusual trait among our previous dogs), but once he realizes that the game's afoot, so is he. 

I've finished off most of my indoor projects, though the rearranging of the studio is stalled. The outdoor projects, except for the garden, mostly involve paint, and I don't want to do that until we find our way out of triple digits in the afternoons. Fall is increasingly enticing, and winter seems a positive change as well, though I know that I'll miss the long meals and interactions on the patio. 

For Roasted Cherry Tomato Sauce

But there are some remarkable things in our lives. The vegetable garden is going full tilt. The cherry tomatoes on the left are what are left over after I picked a few quarts this morning. 

The Food Garden

The longer view of the garden. Again. Full throttle. 

 

The side path, always decorated, never the same

Then there is the side garden path. The perennial garden refuses to be deterred. Phlox is in full throat, and the bell flowers are making a comeback a month after their dead-heading. What a word. 

The Black-eyed Susans, more formally called Rudbeckia, are just getting started.

 

Black-eyed Susans

And while the Dahlias look battle-weary, the honey bee is still finding a reason for hanging out on it's stigmata. 

Battle weary but still attractive. Let that be us. . .

Red Dahlia

Stanley, Hailey, tomatoes and other wonderful food

Jasper on the Alpine trail

We have planned a trip to Stanley to lay Moxie's ashes to rest at our secret spot since she died just before Thanksgiving. We had not planned on Covid, but we went ahead with the original plan, anyway. We couldn't find lodging that accepted Jasper in Stanley, so we stayed in Hailey, which is over an hour from the trailhead. It turned out to be lucky. Stanley is a small town, and it was overwhelmed with tourists from all over the country. This is quite a change from the sleepy little Idaho town we discovered 19 years ago.

 

Folks are foolish to quibble about Jasper in their place. He is cleaner, more civilized, and more respectful of others than most humans. It exhausts me to try to explain this to folks, so I was very grateful to find our lodging. It was an Airbnb where it was easy to isolate, with a local park for short walks for all of us. 

The Sawtooth Mountains upon Mountains

We planned this trip during the week, thinking that it would be less crowded then, and it probably was. But the kids are still out of school (who knows for how long!), so it's still high vacation time. We were lucky to find a parking spot at the Iron Creek trailhead at 8:30a. Cars were parked all along the road leading up to it, and we were astonished to see license plates from New Hampshire, Maine, Alabama.. . .more states, really than I can say.

The scenery is impossibly beautiful. It is as lovely as any Rocky Mountain terrain. The trails are much more worn than they used to be, but once we started hiking, we were able to put some distance between ourselves and other hikers. I don't mean to sound misanthropic. I don't dislike people, I just dislike too many of them. This hike to Goat Lake used to be a solitary one. It is a long hard hike up to the lake, and we rarely saw anyone else there. We could drop our clothes and jump into the lake for about a millisecond. . .the snow can be seen melting into it along the lakes edge!  

The forests are still lovely and dense in some places, but in others, they have been ravaged by the warming, stress and bark beetle (in that order) that is taking it's toll everywhere in south-central Idaho. 

While Jasper proves himself more and more able with every hike, he has made it clear that he has a low opinion of getting wet. 

We were glad to get home to our little sanctuary. The tomatoes had started pouring in. Well. That's a bit of an exaggeration. The Sweet 100 cherry tomatoes started pouring in, the full sized tomatoes are still at a dribble. Still. Time for the Roasted Cherry Tomato Sauce, lots of zucchini, basil, and even a couple of eggplants are on the horizon. I forget how much I love garden fresh food each summer. And then it happens. Home grown tomatoes. The only two things that money can't buy is True Love and Home Grown Tomatoes!