Flora and fauna

 I always knew that bur oaks were important to their natural community, yet I continue to be amazed at the importance of acorns as a food source. Last week I posted a photo of the turkeys, which we still see on a daily basis foraging below the spreading oak crowns. Other regular visitors include these twin fawns, still with spots.

Fawns eating acorns under the fifth oak

They still have spots

One morning last week, Terry spotted 10 deer moving through. It should be noted that as cute as the fawns are, we wish they would stick to eating acorns and leave Terry’s trees alone.

Our most amazing visitors so far were this pair of sandhill cranes. They seemed to be eating acorns for a while but then moved off toward the willows.

Sandhill cranes apparently eating acorns also

Are they kissing? Someone could lose an eye!

When I planted my butterfly garden by the shed at the beginning of summer, I could not imagine that those puny little seedlings would ever fill in the space, certainly not in a single season. So wrong. Here’s the garden now. I suppose I’ll have to be dividing them as early as next year.  I have also observed butterflies visiting the flowers. Mission accomplished.

Left to right: meadow blazing star (lavender), early sunflower (yellow), obedient plant (pale lavender),
great blue lobelia (blue, duh)

While I was laid up with my burned foot, Terry kept telling me that the cardinal flowers out in my restoration area were peaking. As soon as I could get shoes on both feet and had a day off, I went out to see for myself. On my way, I was happy to see that we have evening primrose in the field now.

A robust example of evening primrose

Terry is contributing to the restoration effort by planting four swamp white oak. He had to wait until quite recently for the soil to dry enough to get the saplings in the ground.

Swamp white oak, well defended from the deer

The cardinal flowers were incredible! I love the redness of them. I am also excited to see cardinal flowers colonizing the area south of the fire break. I must do something about the reed canary grass next spring, but otherwise, the native plants seem to be well established. After I retire, I can start collecting seed and expanding the area.

Cardinal flowers

Cardinal flowers everywhere!

Sauerkraut day

The cabbage on the south (wet) side of the garden wasn’t looking too good. Two of the heads had split; others looked a bit peaked. The north cabbages were huge and beautiful. It was a good thing Pat and Nancy had a free day yesterday as I was anxious to get the cabbage harvested lest we get more rain in the wake of Hurricane Harvey.

They got to our house at 2:00. We went to the garden first to harvest the cabbage along with beets, pablano peppers, kale (for Pat and Nancy to take home), and the very last of the sweet corn (for supper). Here is the cabbage.

The cabbage harvest--good ones in front, bad ones in back

Hilda and Nancy started cleaning the south cabbages. Alas, they were not good. A layer of rotten leaves intervened between not-too-good leaves on the outside and pretty good leaves on the inside. I wondered if the rotten layer dated to the flood days. Hilda made a valiant effort to remove the rot and save the rest. The result was so puny, we voted to not bother with it. We had several nice cabbages as well as a few that we left in the garden for borscht and other things.

Cabbage with a rotten layer, right; the weenie bit that could be salvaged, left

A perfect, tight cabbage head

I got to work with the kraut slicer. I knew just where it was this year. Note that I wore my wire glove to keep from slicing off my fingers. My foot had just healed from the burn. I didn’t need any more injuries.

Slicing  the cabbage on the kraut slicer

Pat started out weighing, salting, mixing, and packing the kraut into the crocks.

Pat mixing salt into 2.5 pounds of sliced cabbage

When all the cabbages were cleaned, Hilda took over the weighing.

Hilda weighs the sliced cabbage in half-pound increments

Nancy took the pictures, which is why we don’t have any photos of her.

We forgot to keep track of how many 2.5 pound batches we processed. Pat’s best estimate was in about 35 pounds. That should be enough, on would hope.

At the end of the process, we had a pile of cabbage cobs….

The pile of cabbage cobs

 And a crock full of sauerkraut. By the time I got home from work today, the weights were completely covered with fluid. Should be a good batch!

The bubbling crock

After the work was done, we gathered at the table. Hilda made gazpacho with produce from the garden. I made bread. We also cooked all of the sweet corn that we picked except 4 ears that went home with Pat and Nancy. There must have been 20 ears, and we ate all but three. In defense of accusations of gluttony, the ears were small. I’m proud of the fact that I kept up with the corn this year, for once. Very few ears got too mature.

Gazpacho and bread for supper

I made peach pie from fresh Michigan Red Havens. As usual, Pat said that people would pay THOUSANDS of dollars to eat at our house. We just like to be sure the help is well fed. 

Pat eats her peach pie

End of summer

I see that this is the first blog I’ve done for August, since the last two posts were really from the end of July. Alas, it is time to go back to work. Grumpy! Before you can bat an eye, the dame’s rocket and star thistle has given way to chicory and Queen Anne’s lace. The orioles hung around much longer than usual, far into July, but they have now flown south. The fireflies are gone. We have seven tom turkeys hanging around under the oaks, gorging themselves on acorns. Here are two of them.

Tom turkeys eating acorns under the fifth oak

Terry told me several times that he had seen beautiful blue butterfly on his Echinacea flowers. I wanted very much to see it and was excited when he called to tell me it was drying its wings on the fence around Nursery 1. “Don’t let it go anywhere,” I told him as if he could do something to prevent it from leaving. I grabbed my camera and rushed out. It was still there! After ten photos and several changes of location, I got close enough to get a good picture. At first I thought it was a black swallowtail, but it didn’t have swallowtails. I later identified it as a red-spotted purple, which is odd because it really isn’t purple at all. I can’t remember ever seeing one before. Pretty exciting!

Red-spotted purple butterfly that is not purple but does have red spots

The pullets are growing but are not big enough to put with the hens yet. They would walk right through the fence and might get bullied.

Black Star pullet

The Americauna look so cute when their fluffy beard feathers come in. 

Rosa Dolores perched on top of the feeder. Aren't her beard feathers cute?

The meat chickens got much bigger than we would have liked. We couldn’t get a date with the new butcher until they were 8 weeks old. Here is a picture of a hen (left) and a rooster (right). Look at those feet!

Hen (left) and rooster (right, with larger, redder comb) at the waterer

Seriously, look at those feet! They’re huge!

Huge chicken feet! Huge!

Hilda went soft on me again when it came time to thin the hens. Ruthie and Opal, the two surviving hens that we got from Turkey Man, were scheduled for butchering. “We could keep them and have 14 hens,” Hilda suggested.

I had to remind her that the coop was designed for only 10 chickens and that crowded chickens peck each other, eat eggs, and generally get into all sorts of trouble. Ruthie and Opal were never very tame. Two of the four chickens from Turkey Man, Bess and Pearl, had already died. It seemed likely that Ruthie and Opal were not long for this world anyway.

Ruthie

Opal's last day hanging out in the shade with Angelica

My buddy Rose. We still have her.

The new butcher offers more options than Todd did, since he has a bigger operation. We had all the meat chickens cut in half. That means I no longer have to coordinate with Hilda about when we both wanted to have chicken, since a 7 pound chicken is way too much for two people. Also, we got all the giblets separate from the chickens. Hilda made a wonderful liver pate, which you really can’t make when you get one liver at a time inside the bird. She also made stock out of all the necks.

And what was I doing while Hilda was in the kitchen? Part of the time I was at work. When I was home, I was sitting in my recliner with my foot up. This brings me to a little life lesson. It is effective and environmentally sound to kill weeds around the patio with boiling water leftover from blanching vegetables. When doing this, however, it is critically important to be sure you are not standing downstream. My mission was to kill a burdock plant growing under the deck. I started pouring the water and felt a sting on my right foot. In one of those quirky brain twists I have sometimes, my first thought was that I had been bitten by a poisonous snake. I quickly regained my senses and realized that I was standing in a stream of scorching water. I kicked off my croc and removed my sock. I hopped back into the house and put my foot in a tray of water while I Googled first aid for burns. Cool running water, no ice, 20 minutes. Running water. After considering my limited options, I put one foot in the shower and sprayed water on it. It felt okay under the water, but horribly painful the minute I stopped. I took some Tylenol and put my foot up. The pain went down as the blisters came up. By morning, the blisters had become one giant blister. You want to see the picture? Are you sure? The faint of heart should turn away now.

Second degree burn on my foot 

That was on Saturday, August 5. I broke the blister four days later because the pressure was building and pulling up the skin around the margins. By Thursday night, it was really, really, really painful. If I was going to see the doctor, I should do it Friday before the weekend. I called Friday morning and got an appointment for 10:40.

The nurse took me to the exam room, offered me a seat, and said, “What’s the problem?”

“I am a dumb ass,” I replied.

“I don’t think we can treat that,” she said.

“The symptom is a large second-degree blister on my foot.”

“How did that happen?” she asked.

I told her the story. When I was done she said, “Sounds like something I would do.” She followed up with a story of her husband and a pile of brush that he wanted to burn but couldn’t get lit.

“He got out the gasoline, didn’t he?” I guessed.

“Yes. He lost his eyebrows, but the burns on his arms weren’t too bad.”

The nurse practitioner gave me a prescription for a cream that worked particularly well on burns. She promised I would be wearing shoes by the beginning of classes. That was a week ago, and I’m not thinking I’ll have shoes on both feet by Tuesday, when I have a 3-hour lab followed by an 80 minute lecture. Sitting and walking are pretty okay. Standing—even for two minutes to brush my teeth—is a problem. How will I manage four and a half hours on my feet? Burns suck.

A weekend in Michigan, part 2

Backstory

Two weeks before my class reunion, I contacted my old friend Huck to see if she was going to be in town while I was. She and Margie have a cabin in Honor, MI, and I knew from Facebook that they had been spending time up there. It turned out that she was going to be at the cabin. I wanted to see the cabin, so I asked for the address so I could get an idea of the travel time. After typing it into Google Maps, I texted, “Man, you are way the hell up north!”

It was near Traverse Bay. How long would it take to get home? I clicked on “Directions” and put in my address. Seven hours to drive, but the first suggested route was the Lake Express Ferry from Muskegon to Milwaukee. More Googling. $101 for the car, $91 for me. Leave at 10:15, arrive at 11:45, which is 2.5 hours with a one-hour time change. A bit over 2 hours to get from Honor to Muskegon, and an hour from Milwaukee to home. No driving through Indiana!

I discussed it with Terry. “It’s expensive, but I’ve always wanted to take the ferry.”

“If it’s on your bucket list, you should check it off,” he said.

I got out my credit card and booked my passage. It would be an adventure. Besides, Huck and Margie had started planning what we would do during my visit from the moment I suggested I might make the trip. They would be disappointed if I decided not to go.

Sunday, July 30 was another beautiful day in Michigan. I drove to Honor, MI by way of Muskegon so I could be sure of 1) where the ferry dock was and 2) how long the drive was to Huck and Margie’s from there. I had to be at the dock 45 minutes before departure, and after spending all that money, I did not want to miss the boat!

I got to the cabin about 12:30. Huck and Margie gave me a tour of their cabin and property. It didn’t take long because neither was large. The lot borders a small river that is popular for kayaking. They have a small yard on one side of the cabin and a wooded lot on the other side. Nice place.

They had a tour planned for the afternoon. It began with lunch in a little diner in Honor. After lunch, we began a driving tour of Sleeping Bear Dunes. We began at a beach known for Petoskey stones, the state stone of Michigan. We climbed down the stairs that led to the beach. Huck walked up to the water, looked around briefly, and picked up a Petoskey stone. Unbelievable! It only had the classic coral fossil on one side, however, so she put it back.

Huck and Margie looking for Petoskey stones

Huck particularly likes the little ones, like this.

Tiny Petoskey stone

I found a nice one for Kate. As she is a geologist, I figured she already had some, but she didn’t! She was thrilled when I gave it to her. I had to do some education on pronunciation. She thought it was Pe-TOE-skey, when in fact, it is Pe-TAH-skey. Potayto, potahto.

A Petoskey stone for Kate

I found another one to give to Hilda to remind her of looking for Petoskey stones when I was a kid. Good times, good times.

Huck and me on the beach

We went to Glen Arbor next to visit Cherry Republic. A friend of Huck and Margie’s was the company’s first accountant back in the day. There are several buildings now. We spent most of our time in the main store, which sells everything you can imagine that can be made with cherries as well and T-shirts and ball caps. I was able to do a side-by-side comparison of Montmorency and Balaton dried cherries. I’d never had Balaton cherries before. They were not quite as sweet and had a stronger cherry flavor. A pound was $15.95. One might expect a half pound to be $7.99 but you would be wrong. It was $8.95. “They want you to buy a pound,” Huck said.

“It will work, too,” I replied, taking a pound of Balaton cherries to the check out.

We drove around the north side of Big and Little Glen Lake to a historic village on Lake Michigan. There were only a few buildings. There was a working blacksmith shop and a general store. Another was an old cannery that had been converted to a boat museum

Next we drove around the Pierce Stocking Scenic Drive. We stopped at the overlook for Glen Lake, featuring Alligator Hill, so named because of its resemblance to an alligator.

Huck and me with Glen Lake and Alligator Hill in the background

According to my hostesses, the barn in the distance in this overlook is the most photographed barn in the nation. Or in Michigan. Or something. It’s a very famous barn.

Very famous barn in the distance

Another stop explained that plants growing on dunes need to be adapted to the shifting sands. Sometimes trees get buried and have to sprout roots on their trunks to continue living. Sometimes the roots get exposed as the sand is blown away, as with this magnificent basswood tree.

Basswood tree roots exposed from sands eroding away

Our last stop was at the Lake Michigan overlook. The dune was very steep.

VERY steep

This sign was at the top.

Sign at the top of the dune. Apparent translation: "C'mon down! It'll be fun!"

As usual, there were a good number of fools who ignored the sign and went down anyway. They did not have any visible water or other provisions.

People at the bottom of the dune

It was obviously difficult to climb up a pile of sand at such a deep angle. Crawling on all fours was common.

Crawling back up. Not on my bucket list.

Back at the cabin, Huck started a fire while Margie started making a chocolate cherry cake in the Dutch oven. 

Huck builds a fire

We were skeptical about the cake recipe which seemed too easy: two cans of cherry pie filling in the bottom of the Dutch oven and dry chocolate cake mix sprinkled on top. But we’ll try anything once

Huck puts coals on the lid of the Dutch oven

With the Dutch oven on the fire, Margie starting prepping zucchini, onions, pea pods, baby carrots, and hamburger for foil packs. The potatoes had been cooked earlier. We each put in what we liked. No carrots for me, thanks. Huck put them on the fire, and they sizzled immediately in a satisfying way.

Foil packs in postion

The foil packs turned out great. The chocolate cherry cake, not so much. We ate it anyway, all of us former Girl Scout camp counselors accustomed to eating any number of odd things cooked on a fire. We agreed that an important instruction had been omitted, namely “mix cake according to package directions.”

We talked a bit longer, and then I went to bed. I had to be up at the crack of dawn to drive to Muskegon.

The next day, Monday, I was up at 5:30 to take a shower, pack and load my stuff, and be on the road at 6:30. I arrived a bit after 9:00, exactly as I had planned it. A man and a woman were already working to line up the cars to load the ferry. I heard the man tell the woman that everyone was getting in early today. A short while later, they were only waiting on three cars.

My car in line

Here is the boat approaching.

The Lake Express coming into port

And the cars from Milwaukee coming off.

Then it was our turn to drive on.

Waiting to drive on

We left the dock 3 minutes early. Once we got out of the harbor, the captain put it up to full speed, which (I saw on a bulletin board) was 33 to 39 mph. I read my Nero Wolfe mystery in a comfortable chair for two hours. As we got closer to the other side of the lake, I went to the sun deck, which should have been called the wind deck. Even if the day had been perfectly calm, a person would be standing in 33-39 mph winds. It was a bit dicey to walk across the deck where there was no railing to hang onto. Something hit my glasses and stuck. It was a small fly, smashed like a bug on the windshield. Not kidding about the wind here.

Milwaukee came into view.

Milwaukee in the distance

Slowly getting closer.

Milwaukee shoreline

And closer.

Almost there....

We entered the harbor.

Coming into Milwaukee harbor

And by noon (local time), I was off the boat and on my way home. So much more relaxing that driving around the base of Lake Michigan. I would totally do it again. I'll save my money.