A sweet gift – honey from Grandpas farm.

Can you believe the color in this thirty-year old jar of honey?

Dad came to visit last week and brought two jars of honey that grandpa jarred for the family.  They are still beautiful.  It’s probable that they are the last from grandpas bee gums.  He’s been gone many years and I assumed all the honey was eaten long gone also. Sometimes I want to open the honey and eat it a dozen ways, and other times I feel like I should put it on a shelf and keep it forever.

Maybe eat one and save one?

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Bye bye, bluebirds.

Over the last week the young bluebirds have been much more curious about what lies outside of the birdhouse.  Even as we sat on the deck, within 6 or so feet of the box, they would hang their heads out of the box to check us out. Today they seemed more interested in the cardinals, catbirds, and other birds eating suet nearby, and before long one was standing in the entrance, thinking about flying off.

All three ended up leaving within a few hours. The first two I watched, but the last one was shy (leading to the nickname Shy-a la Bird,  which is probably not funny to anyone other than me), so I set up the camera and left him alone.

The video quality impressed me as it was zoomed to the max and resting against a dirty window about 8′ from the bird house.

Good luck blue birds!

 

Old tools: What’s a corn shucking peg?

Today’s post is about an old wooden corn peg that my dad gave me a few years back. His good friend, an old man in Abraham, WV gave him to him before he passed away. He used the peg to shuck corn from the field next to his house. Grandpa Collins also had a cornfield. As a kid I remember seeing his truck parked next to busy roads selling bushels of corn to people driving by. The peg has become one of my favorites because it connect memories of dad, grandpa and the old man in Abraham. (The gentleman in Abraham had a name, but I honestly don’t remember it – I only remember hearing him referred to as “the old man”.)

Back to the corn peg, the peg is basically a pointed piece of wood with a strap on it that would go around your middle finger. The sharp end would be used to pierce the husk on a ripe ear of corn, allowing you to more easily pull the corn from the stalk. While researching, I came across this article on Catherine’s Corner website that was interesting.  Once of the family stories is of the harvest and using corn pegs.

Another new development for this post – VIDEO!  This is my first video, so don’t judge too harshly. You can tell I haven’t shucked corn since moving to Georgia, but you get the point. Hope you all enjoy.

 

 

Where have all the summer squash leaves gone?

Today I bravely fought the mosquitoes and got a few things done in the backyard. Twice I watered the newly planted grass, a mixture of Kentucky Fescue and Rye, that was sown in the bald patches the yard has developed. I’ll admit that I don’t care for growing or mowing grass, and as long as the yard is green I couldn’t care less if its fescue or dandelions. The problem is that the yard has developed bald spots, which led me to reseed the entire yard.

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The vegetable garden is starting to produce  – tomorrow swiss chard, jalapeño peppers and banana peppers will be picked. The peppers will go to the freezer, the chard into salads and soup. (Can you freeze chard? I need to research this…)

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While mulching and checking on the garlic, i noticed an issue with the squash plants that were put in the ground a few weeks ago. Every leaf is gone. Well, that’s a slight exaggeration – there is one leaf left.  My first thought is that worms ate the leaves, but with no remains its hard to judge that. There is another pest that lays eggs inside the stem, which leads to the leaves drying and falling up, but the stems look fine. I looked for signs of rot, but found none. The plants look great other than the leaves are gone. This leads me to think that a critter ate them (mice, possums, squirrels, chipmunks and raccoons are common) but no other plants were touched. There are loads of green tomatoes, strawberries and beans within feet of the squash. Why would they pass those up?

I’ll continue to research, but at this point I think it was an insect that left and quickly as it came, or my dog, who is adorable, but who ran directly to the squash this morning when I opened the gate. Why would she eat the squash leaves? No clue, but I have caught her chewing on nails and a lightbulb before I’ll admit its possible.

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Rest in Peace, Uncle Joe.

The garden is doing well, and there are cabbage plants waiting to be put in the ground, but this post will be about my uncle, who passed away yesterday.

We are a stubborn group, and for over 10 years our families didn’t really speak.  At another uncles funeral a year or two ago, we started chatting.  Surprisingly, neither of us acted odd, or really seemed to acknowledge that things had been off. My dad ended up speaking with him, and they continued to speak and build up their relationship. They went in the woods together, talked about hunting together and traded gardening tips. Dad and I would send him deer bait and cool flashlights we found on the internet.  I hadn’t talked to him in person since the funeral, but we grew closer via dad, and exchanged items from the garden. My canned peppers and beans went to him in West Virginia and his venison and fresh sausage came to me in Georgia.  Even though we didn’t speak often, he became my closest relative on my dad’s side.  I am grateful that he and dad reconciled their differences, and even became good friends again – in fact, I doubt that dad is closer to anyone else in his family now.

Our family is no stranger to death, and at some time I hardened myself against it, but this one feels like a two-day punch in the gut.  As I get older, I try to be more spiritual and live with less negativity. Instead of being angry at the man that took his life in order to steal his car, I’m praying for his murderer, who is now gone also, the families of both men, and whatever situation led up to yesterday’s events. That’s pretty much all I know to do at this point.

 

About the photo: The mountainous area in West Virginia where the family is from. The flat area is part of the coal mine that most of the men in the family worked at.

Spring Garden – halfway full.

Atlanta’s average last frost is around tax day, but since the weather has been so nice its probably safe to start planting the spring garden. Last fall the garden was enlarged, more than doubling the size. We also added a drainage ditch that cuts across the garden in roughly the spot where the “old” garden ended.  The layout above isn’t pretty, but it worked in helping me prioritize what I want to grow.

So far we have planted:

Nantes Carrots

Swish Chard

Chard (can’t remember the type)

Strawberries

Garlic

Red Onions

White Onions

Potatoes – 1 hill of red and kennebec (i think)

Brussells Sprouts

No beans yet, but I’ve set up the bamboo supports.  Most of the remaining section will be filled with tomatoes and peppers.

How many escaped goats can you fit in the backseat of a police car?

Today was supposed to be about cleaning and gardening, which it was, but ended up being about goats.  This afternoon, a herd of goats and two herding dogs escaped a yard and ate their way around the neighborhood until a group of cops, locals and kids corralled them in a neighbor’s backyard.

It turns out the goats, maybe 30 by my guess,  were escapees, brought in as an environmentally-friendly way of taking care of overgrown yards.  They drop them in the morning and return in the evening after the goats have grazed all day.

Someday I hope to have goats, or a donkey, or ducks, so of course I went to check out the situation. Little did I know I would spend the afternoon helping to corral them. The cops at one point tried putting them in a police car to get them to a safe yard – you can only fit 2 goats in a cop car, and that involves quite a bit of work. By the officers remark and how quickly he rolled down windows they quickly smelled up his ride. One of the goats even went down a toddler slide while waiting to be picked up.

Funny how something so random can lure people out of houses and get them talking to each other. We all got a good laugh out of it all. It was a good day.