Boundary waters vacation, Day 1

 I am finally getting around to posting my pictures of my annual vacation to the Boundary Waters with Jane. It is odd to look back at the beginning of the trip, when Pat was still alive. I’m not adjusting to her absence very well.

Anyway, we drove to northern Minnesota on Saturday, August 8, making the first full day of vacation Sunday, August 9. Jane and I went fishing in the morning. We used twister tails exclusively this year because leeches were not available at the outfitters. Dave and Nancy did everything they could to decrease passing things from one person to another. Jane and I had also gotten our fishing licenses ($44 + fees) online before we came up to avoid paper handling.

I caught a tiny perch right off the bat.

My $44 perch

As it turns out that was that only fish I caught all week. 

Jane caught a little bluegill.

Jane's bluegill

When I got bored with not catching fish, I studied the water lilies by the dock. I noticed that the flower stalks are spring loaded, presumably to raise the flower above the water and then lower it after it is pollinated.

Spring loaded lily flower under the water

I pulled a spent flower over to the dock with my fishing pole. It was soft and falling apart from decomposition. I opened it up to discover that 1) the inside is really slimy and 2) the seeds of this particular flower apparently did not get pollinated.

Slimy decomposing lily flower

It rained briefly after lunch. We put together a 100-piece jigsaw puzzle while we waited for it to pass.

100-piece jigsaw puzzle

We went for a walk to take pictures. I saw a red squirrel.

Exciting wildlife sighting for the day

We also saw a number of flowers, such as creeping bellflower, touch-me-not, and orange hawkweed, and fruits, like rose hips, bunch berries, and bluebeads.

creeping bellflower

Bunchberries

Later on the rain really came down.

Heavy rain on the lake

Afterwards the sun came out again, and the raindrops glistened in the juniper down by the lake.

Raindrops glisten on juniper at sundown

It was a nice, relaxing day.

More harvesting

 Pat’s memorial service was Saturday. I cried until I ran out if tears. I’ve been feeling a little better since then, comforting myself with my routines and the garden. The corn harvest is done. I was harvesting dry beans this afternoon, and boy, is it hot and humid out there! I have to rest a bit in the air conditioning before I can separate my clothes from my person to take a shower.

Picking the beans made me remember a time years ago when winter was coming, and we were way behind with our garden clean up. I had to go to work in those days. In particular, Hilda and I were faced with the odious task of unwinding dead bean vines from four full rows of pole beans trellises in a year when the beans had done well. Pat and Nancy came out to help. The four of us talked and laughed while we worked, and the trellises were clean in no time. Someday these memories will comfort me, but that is not be today. Today they make me sad and lonely. I miss Pat.

I roasted peppers yesterday. I like to skin and de-seed them before I put them in the freezer. I discovered a few things I didn’t know before. First, the pepper scorch faster if I put the lid on the grill. It seems obvious now, but somehow, I hadn’t put together that the skin will turn black faster if the whole pepper is hotter. I got the sweet peppers and jalapenos done before I had to leave for an appointment. I put the poblanos in the refrigerator until I could get to them this morning. My second breakthrough was that after an overnight rest, the skin in the little crannies that escape the direct heat came off easier than when I do it right away. I wonder if I will remember until next year.

Roasting peppers

Since Sunday, I have been getting 5 or 6 ripe cantaloupe per day. This is a great deal more cantaloupe than a household of three can manage. It’s not entirely bad planning on my part. I planted two varieties that allegedly had different maturation times. Both are ripening at once, just to be contrary. It was a lot easier to move excess produce when I had a job.

Daily cantaloupe harvest

There are seven tom turkeys that we see every day. They walk from north to south along the field in the morning and return in the afternoon, as if they were punching a time clock. At first there was a group of 2 and a group of 5. Now we mostly see a group of six and a lone turkey. Was it something he said? They keep trying to get at the grapes, which we covered with bird netting a few weeks ago. Terry chases them off whenever he catches them in there.

Five tom turkeys beneath the fifth oak

Butchering day is September 2, and it can’t come soon enough. The meat chickens are all roosters, and they’re getting feisty. One evening last week, one rooster challenged me when I suggested that it was time to get in the coop and go to sleep. I stepped toward him; he charged. I’m bigger than he is and did ultimately win.

It's getting crowded in the coop! The boys are getting big.

The meat chickens mostly lounge around the run in the morning and evening and spend their day sitting in front of the fan in the coop. Couch potaotes of the chicken world.

Enjoying the evening

The silver-laced Wyandottes are starting to show their characteristic white feathers with black edges. They are going to be beautiful when they grow up.

Silver-laced Wyandotte

For as much as I see monarch butterflies around here, I rarely see a caterpillar. I was quite excited, then, to see this little fellow on the butterflyweed by the garage.

Monarch caterpillar on butterfly weed

I hope to post some pictures of my vacation soon. It’s a busy time of year with the gardening, but I’ll get to it.

Painful firsts

 When someone you love dies, you have to get through a number of painful firsts--the first time you have to do something alone that you used to do together. There are big things, like birthdays and holidays, but there are also innumerable little daily things that just break your heart clean in two.

My very dear friend, Pat, was tragically killed in a freak accident last week. This is the same Pat who came out to help us cover the high tunnel three weeks ago, when she scampered up the scaffolding just because she'd never done it before. And she was out two weeks ago to have a socially distanced dinner to celebrate the sweet corn harvest before Jane and I left for our vacation up north. Pat reached for life with both hands. She was kind, honest, loving, funny. She and I connected immediately when we met at MCC 15 or so years ago. She was my chosen sister, always game for anything--bonfires, Mexican train, sauerkraut making, high tunnel covering. She just retired in May and was having the time of her life with Nancy and us, coming out right in the middle of the week, which she could never do while she was working. I looked forward to decades of more adventures with her. She was so full of life that I still can't get my mind around her death. 

This is a painful first because every time I did a blog post, I sent a text to Pat to let her know I'd done it. Most of my friends get notification through Facebook, where I post a link to the blog right after I've written it. Pat didn't do Facebook. She would read what I'd written and text back, "Great post, bdow!"

Whenever I sent a paper letter out, she'd email, "What a great surprise to have a letter from bdow in the mail today!" She was a huge fan. 

She was so excited that I had the post about the high tunnel up the next day so she could show the pictures to her parents when she visited them on Monday. 

Today is my first post that I won't text Pat about. She won't read it and text me back. And it breaks my heart clean in two.

So here's to you Pat. I'll never make another pie for you, but I'll never make another pie without thinking of you, hearing your wonderful laugh, and your voice saying, "People would pay THOUSANDS of dollars for this!"

Pat eating raspberry pie for her birthday last September

Corn harvest

Today suddenly felt like fall, cloudy and cool. I doubt if summer has given its last hurrah. Terry says the heat returns next week. Meanwhile, we took advantage of the pleasant day to work outside. Terry spent some quality time with his weed whacker. Hilda and I picked the two rows of corn that mature 10 days faster than the rest.

The corn harvest from the early varieties, minus what we'd already eaten

We sat on the downstairs patio and shucked the corn. The earliest variety was “Sugar Buns,” at 72 days. This was the first time we tried growing it, and it may be the last. The cobs were small, and many did not get pollinated on one side. Also, a lot of them had corn borers and/or earwigs. Ewww. The other early variety, “Bodacious,” matured in 75 days. The ears were beautiful, long and full. Definitely worth growing again. As Hilda and I shucked the corn, we tried to remember what bodacious meant. She thought it was a southern expression for extra large. I had a sense that it sometimes had sexual connotations, but I wasn’t confident enough to say so. What would that have to do with corn, anyway? So Dictionary.com says the first definition is southern, meaning “thorough, blatant, unmistakable.” It also has three slang definitions, “remarkable; outstanding,” “audacious; bold or brazen,” and “sexy, voluptuous.”  Still not sure what any of that has to do with corn. Remarkable, perhaps.

When we were done shucking, we had two trays of corn and a muck bucket full of leaves and silks.

The corn ready for processing

We blanched each ear, cut the corn off, and packaged it into 9 bags for the freezer. There are still six rows of corn in the garden. I think we’ll have enough. This is one of our better years for corn.

We picked a few ears of other varieties just to check on it. They were deemed too immature to freeze. The chickens really enjoyed them, though. Everyone loves corn on the cob!

The Baltimore orioles are gone. The hummingbirds are still around. I got a picture of this little fellow sitting on the weather vane we brought home from Uncle Dick’s.

Hummingbird riding the horse's tail

With their breeding season long over with, the tom turkeys are starting to hang out together. First we saw a group of 5 and a group of two, but now we often see all 7 together. They remind me of the old guys that hang out in McDonalds every morning drinking coffee. Harrumph, harrumph.

Five toms hanging out together

We worry when we see them in the river birch. There seems to be something there that they eat, possibly caterpillars, but they are getting quite close to the grapes. We will be covering the grapes with netting soon so we don’t lose the whole crop.

Three toms dangerously close to the grapevines

The broilers don’t seem to be aware of how big they are getting. Five of them were trying to share the same dust bath today. It didn’t look awfully comfortable.

Five broilers, one dust bath. The one at the top looks like it has two heads, but one belongs to the chicken behind him.

The last time my brother came to visit, he told me that he had never been able to get a crispy pie crust unless he used a particular brand of ceramic pie plate. I went right out to a high-end kitchen store to get one. It turned out the store was going out of business, so I saved 10%. This weekend, I used it for the first time, and the general consensus was that the crust was crisper.  

Peach pie in the ceramic pie plate

The pace of ripening tomatoes has picked up. We wait so long for the first tomato, and in the blink of an eye, every flat surface in the house is covered with them. One more blink, and they’re gone until next year. Time to live in the moment.