always have fresh, clean snow

We'll get to the snow in a minute.


First, I want to thank Thomas at A Growing Tradition for his great post on how to set up seed starting shelves.

My tomato seeds utterly failed last spring and I'd been wondering how to have better luck this year. Thomas's instructions and photos were exactly what I needed. The lights will easily raise and lower to accommodate growing seedlings. Thanks, Thomas!

Now, you may be wondering about that intriguing little box on the shelf. . .

it's the first shipment of seeds!

There's one vegetable I forgot to order, though, the one on the cover of the catalogue:

D'oh!

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This is the yard Friday around 1:30,

and again at 3:00,

and a view through the bedroom window Friday evening.

The first photo in this post is snow on the garden fence. It looks quilty to me, I love it.

And here was the yard this morning.

The driveway, and cedars under snow

The road after the plow came through

Stairsteps

Over my boots, almost knee deep

While trudging through the yard, I found a bladdernut resting on top of the snow.

I shook it

(just to hear it rattle), then opened it.

Ice on the river has come and gone, come and gone, and now it's back, along with the geese.

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My friends, Ry and Finn, sent me a recipe for snowcream:

Who knew we'd get so much snow?! I wasn't prepared: no coconut milk, no maple sugar.

But there was some coconut in the freezer, and U.P. maple syrup in the fridge (tapped from Ry and Finn's maple trees), so I threw it all together and it turned out quite tasty! From now on, though, I'll have the ingredients in the pantry, just in case. . .

Sometimes It's the Little Things

It seems like ages since I've seen the sun. But it was momentarily caught by this Sweet Gum leaf Saturday evening (impaled upright in the floorboards of the dock) and I stopped in my tracks till the shadows came and took it away.

So Gray

It's almost unbearably dreary.

The sun peeked out just long enough to give false hope, then gave way to raindrops.

The river's up, more from recent rain than meltwater.

Some days, it's hard to draw any inspiration from outdoors.

So I've holed up inside and taken up knitting. Aside from some sampler washcloths, this is my first project.



The cast iron skillet pothandle will save my hand on fried-potato-mornings. The wool needs another spin in the washer to tighten the felting, but I'm pleased that it worked at all. With thanks to Heather at A Handmade Life for the inspiration and instructions, and Nicole at 10 Mile Life for planting the knitting seed way back on Front Street.

Four-letter Words

damp gray melt

cold

pond, deer toes

seed, snow

buds

nuts

'coon feet

hawk, dove

faux crow

Cuyahoga Valley National Park by Rail

We took a train trip on the Cuyahoga Valley Scenic Railroad this weekend.

Pulling In

(I thought I had more video here, turns out my fingers were numb on the button!)

The train leaves north Akron, Ohio,

and winds through the pretty Cuyahoga Valley National Park.

The train chugs through little communities like Peninsula, not exceeding 28 mph (45 kph),

so there was ample time to see Whitetail Deer, an immature Bald Eagle, Great Blue Herons, Canada Geese, Mallard Ducks, and other waterfowl, in the river’s valley.

Riparian habitat for a variety of creatures

The train was primarily staffed by train-loving volunteers (i.e., people who really wanted to be there); volunteers make everything better, I've found. Fare was family-friendly, $10 for a three-hour ride, so there were babies with grandparents, teenagers, young lovers . . . a nice variety of passengers, some enjoying their first train ride.

Boy at the window

It was a fun trip,

with interesting sights,

and, with leaves off the trees, it was a beautiful time of year to see the landscape.

(Thank you for the weekend, O!)

January, 2010

Frosty field behind the house

A broken tree has taken root in the bend. This is the deepest part of the river so, like a glacier, a good bit of it must be below the surface.

It’s frozen in place for season.

Around the bend, open water. This is the spot where Whitetail Deer most often cross so we know it’s shallow and I’m surprised it doesn’t freeze first. The sun must warm the riverbed to keep the water thawed. There's so much I don't know about this river.

Note the foreground footprints.

Canid, we think, probably Coyote due to the size, but perhaps Red Fox (the ice was too thin to risk measuring).

Speaking of Red Fox, we drove to town Saturday morning, past a rural golf course, and saw a pair mating. It was one of those “can’t look!/must look!” moments. (We were driving at 55 mph [89 kph] so it became a “quick, look!” moment.) Doing the math, a pairing now, with a 52-day gestation period, would make for an early March delivery date – that sounds about right.

Coralberry, a sweet burst of winter color

I gave the persimmon tree a few good shakes but the remaining half dozen held fast.

One of three deer lays around the pond

More tracks.

My first thought was “snake!,”

but that didn’t make much sense in January.

There were no individual foot prints, but it must be a small mammal, a mouse or vole, I imagine.

A Year

I’m a naïve gardener who thought harvesting was a summer thing

but last week’s blanket kept a few things from freezing, all melted yesterday, and today, December 26^th, I gathered

spinach, tiny turnips with edible greens, parsley, and carrots.

Last week, I made scones for the first time, with handfuls of summer Juneberries from the freezer. Not too sweet, whole wheat but not too heavy, they were pretty fabulous.

I’ve been anxious the last few weeks to take the final photos and see what a year looks like here.

See the "Kitchen Window" link, upper right. The light and the cropping aren’t entirely consistent, but the pictures serve their purpose, and a few things surprised me.

The length of seasons seems to be about right in north central Ohio. Just when I’m certain I can’t bear another week of brown, Spring begins. And when I’m about to go mad from all the green, along comes Fall. (I never tire of Winter’s white.) I was tickled to look over these pictures, count the green ones, and see that the trees are in leaf just about half the year, 26 weeks.

Although I’ve lived through a few decades in this region, if you had asked me when my world goes green, or when autumn colors peak, I probably would have been off by a few weeks. It will be nice to have this record to refer to. Looking over the year, I’m surprised at how quickly the big changes take place, the canopy closing in and then later falling away within a couple of weeks.

I lived far to the north for a few years, where Winter lasted many months, Spring progressed with alarming speed, Summer was sweet due to its shortness, and Autumn was just an agonizing prelude to Winter. It would be interesting to see a year in other parts of the world.

White

Through the kitchen window

Canada Geese returned this week

Witch Hazel flowers

American Beech leaves

Bald Cypress at the Pond

Buttonbush buttons

Snow on White Pine

Cottontail Rabbit prints

Whitetail Deer tracks in the Orchard

The Bend from the Point

Early Freeze

Ohio missed out on some of the recent snowstorms but rain and wind blew through midweek.

The river rose with the rain, froze with the cold,

then cracked like gunshots as the water receded.

Shards

It's unusual for the river to ice this early in the season.

Fox Squirrels have formed a habit of summering across the river and wintering in our yard. I've been watching them in the trees, wishing they'd make the crossing for the season.

And they have! This morning, one was feeding on peanuts.

Magnificent tail

After a sunny Saturday, rain is falling again today.

Northern Cardinals brighten the year instead.

Nippy Morning

It was 16F/-9C this morning. The garden is officially done.

Poor lettuce

I managed one last harvest last weekend. The sink was full for the first rinse.

I'm insanely busy at work, lots of long hours, and I failed to post our Thanksgiving feast last week. I try not to let this space morph into a food blog (only because I don’t have the culinary talent to do it justice) but I allow myself some food pics as long as some of the ingredients are home grown or very local. And so, The Plate:

Roasted asparagus with garlic and lemon (a non-local indulgence); homemade whole wheat dressing and succulent Tofurkey, both with homegrown sage; smashed potatoes with homegrown garlic chives and vegan gravy; salad of lettuce, radishes, sprouts, and green onions from the garden with house dressing of olive oil, balsamic vinegar, and herbs.

I accidentally cooked the homegrown carrots and tiny turnips, roasted with homegrown thyme and rosemary, to perfection. O and I don’t have much of a sweet tooth so we were happy to go back for seconds and skip dessert.

But back to this morning.

The river is trying to ice over.

It's doing a good job in some places. Temps will moderate in the coming days, then dip again.

Three more weeks to reach my goal of a photo a week through the kitchen window.
Note the Nuthatch on the squirrel feeder on the Basswood tree, far left.