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inshadowofthegods · 5 years

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In The White

Edan’s mother had been careful when she picked the place to build their new home so many years back, and every winter, it paid off. The blizzard hit hard, but within the tight ring of trees Edan’s clan made their home in, the worst of the storm couldn’t touch them. For several nights, they couldn’t stray far from their home. But when the howling winds finally died down, the clan was left marveling at how different the area looked. At times, it was easy to forget how young so much of his clan was. But watching Rorin, and the (former) nocturne crew marvel at the sight of the pure white snow that now covered the world around them was a very clear - and somewhat endearing - reminder. “Wow, it’s so bright! It kinda… hurts my eyes!” Espen remarked before jumping out into a particularly large bank and letting out a sharp laugh. Her newly long and whiplike tail wagged joyfully behind her as she gathered snow in her claws and started rolling it. “Gods - it’s so cold. You said you do it like this, right Edan?” “Yep, but pack it tighter,” Edan replied, smirking at the newest mirror’s attempts to make a snowball before turning back to work on uncovering the garden with Clara. “Or else it’s not gonna stick together.” “Do you think they’re okay?” Clara asked, humming to herself nervously as she dug the snow off of carefully tilled soil. “I’ve been trying to hard to figure out how to make the dirt stay warm, but it’s really hard to - ” “Now Clare, don’t worry too much,” Edan chastised gently. “The seeds haven’t even sprouted yet, and we planted the ones that can handle the winter anyhow. They’ll be fine.” “I’m trying not to, but it’s just,” Clara paused, chewing on her lip. “We don’t have a lot, you kno - oh, don’t you dare!” Edan turned to see Clara glaring up at Espen, who now had a well-made snowball clutched in her talon and ready to throw. “Hey! We’re busy, girl! Go bug someone else!” he snapped, waving her away. “Fiiine,” Espen sighed, rolling her eyes and - for just a moment - looking disappointed before gleefully charging into the longhouse. Moments later, a furious shout came from within, and Espen dashed back outside with Marshall charging after her, the remnants of her snowball clinging to his back. Hazel rushed out after, pulling Veldr along with her by his arm. “Hey, how about you get the snow off these steps?” she asked, pointing and tracing out a rough path between the two buildings in the air. “Make a walkway, you know.” “Alright,” Veldr nodded, then sighed and went to retrieve a shovel. Clade poked his head outside, shuddered visibly, then ducked back indoors. In a similar vein, Saerun was simply leaning in the doorway of Edan’s house, a blanket wrapped tightly around her as she watched the others. “Not a fan of the cold, I take it?” Edan asked, stepping back from the garden now that it was clear of snow. Saerun shook her head and chuckled to herself, briefly sticking her tongue out in a surprisingly playful manner. “Not at all. But…” she paused, nodding toward the gaggle of younger dragons charging through the snow. “It’s kinda fun to watch them.” “Mhm,” Edan nodded, turning to watch as Marshall finally caught up with his sister and tackled her to the ground as she shrieked with laughter. “I’m done!” Clara loped toward the group. “Can I play with you too?” “Ah - ” Marshal jumped up, releasing a snow-covered Espen from his grasp. “Yeah, pipsqueak, of course.” “Clara!” Espen lunged forward and grabbed the young tundra, pulling her down into a hug. “You’re so waaarm!” “Espen!” Hazel shouted. “Let her go! Don’t be weird!” “Aw, come on! I can hug my little sister if I want t - ” She was interrupted as Clara shoved a fistful of snow in her face and stood, trotting toward the longhouse. “Clade! Will you come out and play with us?” “Don’t think he will, Clara,” Edan called out. “The cold’s rough on him - especially now that he’s such a spindly thing. Best to leave him be.” Clara’s ears drooped. Espen got up and shook herself off, then made a beeline toward Edan’s house and stood in front of Saerun, cocking her head to the side. “What about Ciron? Can he come out to play?” “I’m busy,” came Ciron’s voice from within the building. “What are you doing?” Espen asked, carefully stepping past Saerun and poking her head in through the doorway. “I’m meditating - focusing my magic,” the pearlcatcher replied, annoyance in his tone. “But you do that every day!” Espen protested. “The snow will be gone in a few days! At least come out for a little bit.” “Might be better training if you try it in a new environment,” Saerun suggested, smirking a bit at the young mirror’s effort. “Calm amidst the storm, and all that.” “It’s too distracting,” Ciron protested. “That’s the point!” Saerun rolled her eyes. “You’ll need your magic most of all when things are crazy, so practice it when it’s crazy!” The pearlcatcher grumbled and stepped outside, much to Espen’s delight. The mirror jumped back and forth beside him - and even leapt over him as he stomped out into the cold, evidently trying to shut out everything else. But that didn’t last long - deep, thundering footfalls and excited chatter from just outside their territory caught everyone’s attention. Ila flew into view first, her back to the rest of the clan as she coached the group behind her. “We’re here! That’s the last of the big banks, just push on through!” Prazien eased her massive form through the trees and shook her head and wings, loosing the snow that covered much of her. “Ugh, finally,” the imperial sighed, smiling in greeting as she looked over Edan and the rest. “I can’t recognize a thing out in that snow.” Solveig trotted into view and Prazien crouched down, allowing the pearlcatcher to help their hatchlings down. “Hah, your son’s already bigger than you!” Marshall remarked, pointing at the imperial hatchling with amusement as he leapt down on his own. The infant pearlcatchers waited patiently for Solveig to pick them up one-by-one, cradling their pearls close to their chests as they trudged their way through the snow toward the buildings. Looking over the triplets, it occurred to Edan for the first time that neither Solveig or Veldr had pearls. Strange. Once all four of her children were safely down, Praz braced herself and shook her entire body, sending snow and pine needles flying in all directions. Then she let out a pleased huff and trotted into the clearing. “Hello, Edan,” she said, lowering her head to be at level with him. “Are we on time?” “Yep,” Edan nodded. “The stews should be ready to come off the heat any minute now. We’ll have ‘em outside, make it more fair for you and all.” “Oh, I don’t mind if you want to eat inside!” the imperial waved a foreclaw dismissively. “There’s no need for everyone to be in the cold! I hardly feel it at all, honestly.” “Eh, it was already planned,” the mirror replied. “We’ve all been getting used to the temp so we can go for a hunt later. …Except Clade.” “Ah. Which one is that?” “The spiral,” Ila offered before heading inside, one of the little pearlcatchers holding her tail and following along behind. “Ah, the water one,” Prazien replied with a knowing nod. “Should have figured… anyway. If you insist, I won’t protest. We did come here for, uh… family time, as it were.” “Hm,” Edan nodded. “How have you both been doing? Was the storm rough on you?” “Not so much,” Prazien shook her head. “We blocked the cave’s opening and kept the snow out. The worst part was digging it back out… the ground was frozen solid. I’m glad we… we buried the fifth before the storm hit.” Edan nodded again, unsure of how to respond. “Four is… a good hatch,” Prazien stated simply, shutting her eyes and nodding to herself. “Maybe you should take those eggs that Edan’s been trying to hatch by his fire for like, months,” Espen interjected, her initial excitement wilting when Edan gave her an at once stern and horrified look. “…Be…cause you must be very good at hatching them, and… uh…” “I have… my talons full,” Prazien replied, tilting her head. “But… maybe after these four are grown. If those haven’t hatched yet. Found eggs can take a while.” “Um, yeah, that makes sense,” Espen replied before turning and stiffly walking away, her tail dragging on the ground. Ciron rushed to walk beside her, and she said something inaudible that resulted in the pearlcatcher gently thumping her shoulder with his wing. Fortunately, Ila came out of the house, two large steaming pots, bowls, and several loaves of bread towed behind her in a wagon. Rorin followed behind, holding it all steady as they made their way out into the snow. And just behind him, the pearlcatcher hatchling followed, holding another loaf of bread proudly and carefully. She dashed toward her mother and held it out. “Oh, did you carry that all this way,” Prazien gushed. “What a good job!” Edan let out a relieved sigh at the change of mood, then clapped his talons together and called out. “Alright, everyone. Food’s done! Come grab a bowl when you’re ready!”

#fr lore #fr nuzlocke #flight rising #everyone is there #the whole fambly #isotg

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pumpkin-bread · 5 years

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Edan's mother had been careful when she picked the place to build their new home so many years back, and every winter, it paid off.

The blizzard hit hard, but within the tight ring of trees Edan’s clan made their home in, the worst of the storm couldn’t touch them.

For several nights, they couldn’t stray far from their home. But when the howling winds finally died down, the clan was left marveling at how different the area looked.

At times, it was easy to forget how young so much of his clan was. But watching Rorin, and the (former) nocturne crew marvel at the sight of the pure white snow that now covered the world around them was a very clear - and somewhat endearing - reminder.

“Wow, it’s so bright! It kinda... hurts my eyes!” Espen remarked before jumping out into a particularly large bank and letting out a sharp laugh. Her newly long and whiplike tail wagged joyfully behind her as she gathered snow in her claws and started rolling it. “Gods - it’s so cold. You said you do it like this, right Edan?”

“Yep, but pack it tighter,” Edan replied, smirking at the newest mirror’s attempts to make a snowball before turning back to work on uncovering the garden with Clara. “Or else it’s not gonna stick together.”

“Do you think they’re okay?” Clara asked, humming to herself nervously as she dug the snow off of carefully tilled soil. “I’ve been trying to hard to figure out how to make the dirt stay warm, but it’s really hard to - ”

“Now Clare, don’t worry too much,” Edan chastised gently. “The seeds haven’t even sprouted yet, and we planted the ones that can handle the winter anyhow. They’ll be fine.”

“I’m trying not to, but it’s just,” Clara paused, chewing on her lip. “We don’t have a lot, you kno - oh, don’t you dare!”

Edan turned to see Clara glaring up at Espen, who now had a well-made snowball clutched in her talon and ready to throw. “Hey! We’re busy, girl! Go bug someone else!” he snapped, waving her away.

“Fiiine,” Espen sighed, rolling her eyes and - for just a moment - looking disappointed before gleefully charging into the longhouse.

Moments later, a furious shout came from within, and Espen dashed back outside with Marshall charging after her, the remnants of her snowball clinging to his back.

Hazel rushed out after, pulling Veldr along with her by his arm. “Hey, how about you get the snow off these steps?” she asked, pointing and tracing out a rough path between the two buildings in the air. “Make a walkway, you know.”

“Alright,” Veldr nodded, then sighed and went to retrieve a shovel.

Clade poked his head outside, shuddered visibly, then ducked back indoors.

In a similar vein, Saerun was simply leaning in the doorway of Edan’s house, a blanket wrapped tightly around her as she watched the others.

“Not a fan of the cold, I take it?” Edan asked, stepping back from the garden now that it was clear of snow.

Saerun shook her head and chuckled to herself, briefly sticking her tongue out in a surprisingly playful manner. “Not at all. But...” she paused, nodding toward the gaggle of younger dragons charging through the snow. “It’s kinda fun to watch them.”

“Mhm,” Edan nodded, turning to watch as Marshall finally caught up with his sister and tackled her to the ground as she shrieked with laughter.

“I’m done!” Clara loped toward the group. “Can I play with you too?”

“Ah - ” Marshal jumped up, releasing a snow-covered Espen from his grasp. “Yeah, pipsqueak, of course.”

“Clara!” Espen lunged forward and grabbed the young tundra, pulling her down into a hug. “You’re so waaarm!”

“Espen!” Hazel shouted. “Let her go! Don’t be weird!”

“Aw, come on! I can hug my little sister if I want t - ”

She was interrupted as Clara shoved a fistful of snow in her face and stood, trotting toward the longhouse. “Clade! Will you come out and play with us?”

“Don’t think he will, Clara,” Edan called out. “The cold’s rough on him - especially now that he’s such a spindly thing. Best to leave him be.”

Clara’s ears drooped.

Espen got up and shook herself off, then made a beeline toward Edan’s house and stood in front of Saerun, cocking her head to the side. “What about Ciron? Can he come out to play?”

“I’m busy,” came Ciron’s voice from within the building.

“What are you doing?” Espen asked, carefully stepping past Saerun and poking her head in through the doorway.

“I’m meditating - focusing my magic,” the pearlcatcher replied, annoyance in his tone.

“But you do that every day!” Espen protested. “The snow will be gone in a few days! At least come out for a little bit.”

“Might be better training if you try it in a new environment,” Saerun suggested, smirking a bit at the young mirror’s effort. “Calm amidst the storm, and all that.”

“It’s too distracting,” Ciron protested.

“That’s the point!” Saerun rolled her eyes. “You’ll need your magic most of all when things are crazy, so practice it when it’s crazy!”

The pearlcatcher grumbled and stepped outside, much to Espen’s delight. The mirror jumped back and forth beside him - and even leapt over him as he stomped out into the cold, evidently trying to shut out everything else.

But that didn’t last long - deep, thundering footfalls and excited chatter from just outside their territory caught everyone’s attention.

Ila flew into view first, her back to the rest of the clan as she coached the group behind her. “We’re here! That’s the last of the big banks, just push on through!”

Prazien eased her massive form through the trees and shook her head and wings, loosing the snow that covered much of her. “Ugh, finally,” the imperial sighed, smiling in greeting as she looked over Edan and the rest. “I can’t recognize a thing out in that snow.”

Solveig trotted into view and Prazien crouched down, allowing the pearlcatcher to help their hatchlings down.

“Hah, your son’s already bigger than you!” Marshall remarked, pointing at the imperial hatchling with amusement as he leapt down on his own.

The infant pearlcatchers waited patiently for Solveig to pick them up one-by-one, cradling their pearls close to their chests as they trudged their way through the snow toward the buildings. Looking over the triplets, it occurred to Edan for the first time that neither Solveig or Veldr had pearls. Strange.

Once all four of her children were safely down, Praz braced herself and shook her entire body, sending snow and pine needles flying in all directions. Then she let out a pleased huff and trotted into the clearing. “Hello, Edan,” she said, lowering her head to be at level with him. “Are we on time?”

“Yep,” Edan nodded. “The stews should be ready to come off the heat any minute now. We’ll have ‘em outside, make it more fair for you and all.”

“Oh, I don’t mind if you want to eat inside!” the imperial waved a foreclaw dismissively. “There’s no need for everyone to be in the cold! I hardly feel it at all, honestly.”

“Eh, it was already planned,” the mirror replied. “We’ve all been getting used to the temp so we can go for a hunt later. ...Except Clade.”

“Ah. Which one is that?”

“The spiral,” Ila offered before heading inside, one of the little pearlcatchers holding her tail and following along behind.

“Ah, the water one,” Prazien replied with a knowing nod. “Should have figured... anyway. If you insist, I won’t protest. We did come here for, uh... family time, as it were.”

“Hm,” Edan nodded. “How have you both been doing? Was the storm rough on you?”

“Not so much,” Prazien shook her head. “We blocked the cave’s opening and kept the snow out. The worst part was digging it back out... the ground was frozen solid. I’m glad we... we buried the fifth before the storm hit.”

Edan nodded again, unsure of how to respond.

“Four is... a good hatch,” Prazien stated simply, shutting her eyes and nodding to herself.

“Maybe you should take those eggs that Edan’s been trying to hatch by his fire for like, months,” Espen interjected, her initial excitement wilting when Edan gave her an at once stern and horrified look. “...Be...cause you must be very good at hatching them, and... uh...”

“I have... my talons full,” Prazien replied, tilting her head. “But... maybe after these four are grown. If those haven’t hatched yet. Found eggs can take a while.”

“Um, yeah, that makes sense,” Espen replied before turning and stiffly walking away, her tail dragging on the ground. Ciron rushed to walk beside her, and she said something inaudible that resulted in the pearlcatcher gently thumping her shoulder with his wing.

Fortunately, Ila came out of the house, two large steaming pots, bowls, and several loaves of bread towed behind her in a wagon. Rorin followed behind, holding it all steady as they made their way out into the snow. And just behind him, the pearlcatcher hatchling followed, holding another loaf of bread proudly and carefully. She dashed toward her mother and held it out.

“Oh, did you carry that all this way,” Prazien gushed. “What a good job!”

Edan let out a relieved sigh at the change of mood, then clapped his talons together and called out. “Alright, everyone. Food’s done! Come grab a bowl when you’re ready!”

#fr lore #fr nuzlocke #EVERYONE IS HERE #I almost lost this file ebcause my draft glitched out lol #flight rising

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benjamingarden · 4 years

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This Month On The Farm: September 2020

September officially marks the end of summer and I am tomato'd out! As noted in previous posts, it was a toasty one here this year, as it was for so much of the country, so I am very much ready to move on to the next season. Bring on the pumpkin spice everything (yes, I am THAT person).

Starting last week our walks around the yard consist of a crisp crunching under our feet. Our trees are not only changing to their fall colors but are also shedding them quite quickly thanks to some much needed rain. And so, leaf raking season begins.

I am still toggling between hot and iced coffee, depending on the day. We've two had days of almost frost and more opportunities are on their way. I celebrated fall by ordering two new sets of our very favorite flannel sheets from LL Bean. We replace our well used sheets every few years. They are expensive but honestly the BEST flannel sheets we've tried. With the bitter cold winter temps we receive for 5 months of the year, it's well worth it.

Jay also finished building both a food storage pantry space in our basement plus and large pantry shelving unit to go behind the door that leads to the basement. This has really allowed us to stock up nicely.

Putting Food Up

With the summer garden completed the fall garden is focused on winter squash, green beans, cabbage, broccoli, cauliflower, carrots, greens, and beets. Food preservation is mostly complete. I planted way too much cabbage so I was able to shred quite a few heads, blanch and then freeze them. It will be perfect for soups, stir fry's, and unstuffed cabbage casserole. I've left a few heads in the garden to use up before the first freeze is on the horizon.

I was successful in getting enough green beans for plenty of fresh eating and enough leftover for the freezer. My goal was a minimum of 20 servings in the freezer and I believe I will make it. Good thing I planted more late summer! I was also successful in keeping up with the tomatoes. I think I only lost 4 or 5 to rot, getting the others either tossed in the freezer for future processing or processed on the date of picking. We have a ton of tomato sauce, spaghetti sauce, and oven-roasted cherry tomatoes for sauce, pizza, pasta dishes, etc. I'm planning to grow greens into the winter so I haven't worried about getting those put in the freezer. I've already roasted and froze some pie pumpkins and winter squash. My husband's favorite stuffed jalapenos are in the freezer along with 10 bags of sliced bell peppers and 4 bags of roasted poblano peppers ready to stuff or use in soups or enchiladas.

Also in the freezer I have some bags of corn, mixed vegetables (green beans, carrots, corn and onions), corn salsa (corn, poblano peppers, and onions) as well as mirepoix (celery, onion, carrots) for soup making. We have 6 bags of frozen strawberries, 4 bags of frozen blackberries, and 6 bags of frozen shredded zucchini for future baking. Speaking of baking, we have many loaves of zucchini quick bread, a couple batches of chocolate zucchini cake baked as cupcakes, and quite a few batches of chocolate chip zucchini muffins and zucchini crumble muffins all in the freezer. Those recipes are so moist that they freeze perfectly. I've also been making a ton of homemade chicken stock. We buy whole chickens from a local farmer friend and I cut them up and make stock with the carcass. I freeze the stock in mason jars for use during soup and stew season.

Good thing we now have 3 stand-alone freezers!

In the cupboard we have canned pickled jalapeno slices, cucumber relish, salsa, tomato jam, and enchilada sauce. We dried garlic, onions, elderberries, herbs, and pumpkin seeds, and harvested over 20 pounds of sweet potatoes that are cured and stored away.

In The Coop

Feathers. Feathers everywhere. That's what you'll find in the coop. We have hit molting season so every morning it looks like the Coop Girls had a pillow fight the previous night. Unfortunately this also means they are laying very few eggs. In the years past we would have added new girls in spring so they would be laying while the older girls are molting but not this year. Because we're working on reducing our flock size we won't have younger girls laying during molt season for a few more years. So, we've increased their protein to help their aging bodies with the change and wait for their new feathers to emerge.

Oliver

Oliver is acting a lot more like Emerson now. We noticed this about 6 months after Emerson, Ollie's brother/litter mate, passed away almost 2 years ago. He never used to be interested in food much at all whereas Emerson was obsessed with food. Well, Oliver is now obsessed with food. This isn't a bad thing, necessarily, because at least he eats without much effort now. It's just very funny to see the transition. Despite him taking on Emerson's food obsession, he's still sensitive and quirky Oliver who requires sticking right by my side, has a dislike of trash cans, shakes when the vacuum cleaner is running, and absolutely detests all white trucks and minivans (both of which the only neighbor that he can see has).

I am taking full advantage of the last of the nice days to keep my sensitive little man preoccupied. Because he is truly glued to my side all day, I can keep him (somewhat) happy if the temps are relatively warm and there is sunshine on the deck. So, I lure him outside whenever I can and race to get as much accomplished indoors as possible before the barking to be let in begins.

What I've Been Reading

I've actually had time to read! I'm so happy since I absolutely adore getting lost in a book. So my evenings and early mornings were spent with a cup of (herbal) coffee and a book. The first few books I've read are memoirs about country living or homesteading and I've thoroughly enjoyed each of them.

So far I've read (affiliate links): Follow Me To Alaska, by Ann Parker, Woodswoman: Living Alone In The Adirondack Wilderness by Anne LaBastille, Homestead, by Jane Kirkpatrick, Good Husbandry, by Kristin Kimball, Mud Season, by Ellen Stimson, Winds Of Skilak, by Bonnie Rose Ward, The Feast Nearby: How I Lost My Job, Buried A Marriage, And Found My Way By Keeping Chickens, Foraging, Preserving, Bartering, And Eating Locally On $40.00/Week, by Robin Mather, and Flat Broke With Two Goats, by Jennifer McGaha.

My favorites were Good Husbandry, Follow Me To Alaska, and The Winds Of Skilak (and the follow-up book).

I also read a few fiction books in September. My favorites have been (affiliate links): The Tourist Attraction, by Sarah Morgenthaler, The Year Of Pleasures, by Elizabeth Berg, and The City Bakers Guide To Country Living: A Novel, by Louise Miller. I thoroughly enjoyed each of these - the writing styles, the fluidity, the characters and how they were developed, and the stories themselves.

Jackson, my meal planning assistant....

Stews, Soups, And Casseroles, Oh My!

I adore the change of season not only because of the weather but also because of food. I've started to put soups, stews, and casseroles on the menu and am back to making bread. These are all comfort foods for me and I happily anticipate making them every year. Fresh corn soup, roasted tomato soup, veggie stew with biscuits (chicken added to Jay's), chili and cornbread, and oatmeal honey bread for breakfast have all made their way to our table.

Speaking of meals, I've settled into monthly menu planning which is easiest for me since we are so well stocked up. You can see October's meal plan (dinner only) in the photo above. If there are 2 listed then I'm making something different for Jay and I. You'll also see that I don't mind eating the same thing more then one day a week which also saves me time at dinner prep. Jay is not a fan so he eats his leftovers at lunch.

What We've Been Making

Our farmer's market has remained somewhat busy as we're still getting quite an influx of locals and tourists. So many things have changed this year that we have no idea what to expect from one week to the next. One thing that does stay the same though are our seasonal products, and our fall line is finally out! It's my absolute favorite group of soaps: Pumpkin Crunch Cake, Apple & Sage, Cinnamon & Raw Honey, Chai Tea Latte, and Pumpkin Cheesecake smell soooo delicious. We've just made the winter soaps as well which will be available the beginning of November.

That's September around the homestead!

This Month On The Farm: September 2020 was originally posted by My Favorite Chicken Blogs(benjamingardening)

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sageinthegarden · 4 years

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A new snapshot from https://sagesacre.com/2020/02/18/time-to-tally-the-bananas/

Time to Tally the Bananas

The February freeze forced me to cut my Ice Cream Bananas

We may not have icy winters here, but the cold temps we do get wreak havoc on the exotics and sub-tropicals. In late January my tropical zone was lush with cannas, passion fruit, monstera, hoja santa and bananas. Then a week of night freezes rolled in early February and turned the whole thing into a burn zone.

Hardest hit were the Ice Cream Bananas (Musa acuminata), a cold tolerant banana, but also one which didn’t have any shelter and took the full brunt of the icy air. I’d been waiting (hoping really) for one bunch of bananas from last fall to ripen on the plant, but now that the plant was fried, that wasn’t going to happen So I figured I’d cut them down and bring them indoors to ripen up.

I’d hoped to used my machete to cut the bananas from the tree, but the Indiana Jones method didn’t work because the plant was on a slope and far too tall to get close to whack at. SO instead I turned to my trusty pole saw to cut it free. A couple minutes later I had the banana bunch in hand.

The banana plants after 5 nights of below freezing temps

Using a pole saw to cut the bananas free from the plant stalk

After cutting the bunch free Sage tries to balance the pole saw and the bananas

Sage holds the bunch of bananas he just cut from the Ice Cream Banana tree

Ice Cream aka Blue Java Bananas just picked from the tree

All told there’s about 50 little bananas on the bunch. Hopefully they ripen up because it’d be terribly ironic if it was the cold that ruined something named “ice cream.”

#banana #banana hand #blue java #exotic #ice cream #musa #tropical

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kristablogs · 4 years

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The polar vortex is bringing snow to the US this weekend, because chaos loves company

The cold front will start moving in on Friday. By Saturday night, things will be chilly. (National Weather Service/)

Parts of the United States could have rare May snowfall this weekend. You read that correctly: The Midwest, Mid-Atlantic, and Northeast regions of the US will have record-cold temperatures, and some areas will dip below freezing. Cities in New York, Pennsylvania, and Vermont could see snow, with parts of northern New England possibly getting up to a foot of wet, heavy snow—handily breaking current snowfall records for this time of year.

Enjoy the mostly sunny day today with temps in the low to middle 60s because it's going to get chilly into the weekend! Temps will be 15 - 20 degrees below average by Saturday and some locations NW of NYC may see some rare mid-May snow! #NYwx #NJwx #CTwx pic.twitter.com/lbW6ztMnaD

— NWS New York NY (@NWSNewYorkNY) May 7, 2020

As much of the nation continues to shelter at home to prevent the spread of COVID-19, atmospheric forces seem to be conspiring to keep us inside. The culprit is the dreaded polar vortex, a climate phenomenon associated with bitter cold snaps that usually have the good sense to occur during late fall or winter.

Hearing about the polar vortex in May is a little bit like running into your dentist at the circus, so don’t feel bad if you need a reminder of how it all works. The North and South Poles of the planet always feature giant areas of cold, swirling air. It’s the northern polar vortex that tends to cause trouble for the United States: In the winter, this chilly counter-clockwise cyclone gets bigger, which makes it less stable. When the polar vortex is tight and controlled, the difference in air pressure between the frigid poles and the hot air near the equator creates a neat and tidy jet stream—a high-speed band of air racing from west to east that influences much of our weather.

But when the polar vortex gets bigger, it’s less likely to hold itself together as a strong, unified region of low-pressure air. That means the jet stream gets more wobbly. Pieces of the bloated and weakened polar vortex frequently get caught up in these atmospheric rivers, sending icy temperatures as far south as Florida. This almost always happens in winter, when the polar vortex is most likely to grow larger. But while this past winter featured a fairly controlled polar vortex—keeping the worst cold snaps at bay—an unusually late-in-the-season weakening is sending Arctic air our way in May.

What's all the fuss about cold Sat? Weather balloons have been launched 2X daily at Chatham #MA since 1970. This graphic plots temps at ~ 5,000 ft (850 mb) for all those launches. The coldest recorded temp May 10th is -7C & -9C 4 all of May. Colder temps are possible Sat/Sat ngt! pic.twitter.com/vqpCxvavEf

— NWS Boston (@NWSBoston) May 6, 2020

This is “one of the coldest modified polar air masses on record so late in the season,” Michael Palmer, a meteorologist at the Weather Company, told CNBC. Highs and lows in affected areas will be 10-20 degrees lower than average, and NBC reports that more than 50 temperature records could be broken or tied. Temperatures are expected to hit the 30s as far south as Nashville, TN and Huntsville, AL. Many areas that have already begun their spring growing seasons could have frost. If you can bring your plants inside, do so; if not, here are some tips on how to keep your newly-planted garden as snug as possible.

Meanwhile, the same wibbly-wobbly jet stream is bringing heat waves to the Southwest. While a hot May day in LA is less discombobulating than snow in New York occurring that same weekend, these warmer temperatures are also breaking records in some spots. Some officials have expressed concern for elderly residents of these regions, who are advised to stay inside due to their higher risk of death from COVID-19. But those at-risk people may not have air conditioning, making their homes incredibly dangerous if they get too hot.

“We have millions of people who are aging alone who feel like they need to stay indoors,” Eric Klinenberg, a professor of sociology at New York University and the author of “Heat Wave: A Social Autopsy of Disaster in Chicago” told the Los Angeles Times. “And social isolation combined with extreme heat is a proven killer.” Here are some tips for keeping your body temperature down in hot weather—even if you don’t have access to AC.

Some researchers have suggested that a warming Arctic may contribute to the instability of the polar vortex and the jet stream, but more evidence on the connection is still needed. For now, we do know that the temperature contrasts that keep jet streams stable have decreased. In any case, one thing is definitely true: Record-low temperatures in May don’t mean the planet isn’t getting hotter due to climate change. Here’s more information on how a warming world can produce frigid spring storms.

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wendyimmiller · 4 years

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Lingering Springs, Bittersweet Memories and The Evolution of a Gardener

The latest in the on-going correspondence between Marianne Willburn & Scott Beuerlein.

__________________________________

May 14, 2020

Lovettsville, VA

Dear Scott,

My heart aches for you and your family coping with the loss of your mother. In a normal year it would be emotionally draining, but right now, with the ability to have less than ten people at the funeral? I am deeply sorry you have had to cope and grieve while normal life is upside down – I cannot imagine. It was this time last year that we lost my father, and that was hard enough.

The arrival of spring has brought back a lot of that tension and sadness. Memory adheres gently to seasons. For years I could not see pumpkins on porches and smell cinnamon in stores without experiencing waves of psychosomatic morning sickness brought on by having not one, but two, romantic Septembers. And now, Dad is messing with spring.

I have had words with him about it. Proper out-loud words to the sky when I’m in the vegetable garden, which is one of the reasons we needed to live somewhere without visible neighbors. That and the outdoor restroom facilities.

I have wondered many times over the last year what Dad would think about my garden now. It is very young, but the last time he saw it, it was a newborn, and for the most part not to be seen. Dad never went in for ornamentals in the same way that he loved his vegetables and the natural world around him. My guess is that he would have nodded gently, raised his eyebrows over some of my kaleidoscope combinations, and then pulled up a chair in the vegetable garden and asked for a beer.

Dad and I in the garden that fed our family during “the college years” in Iowa.

My very earliest memories of a purely ornamental garden and the high ambitions of its creator – a good family friend – are equally strong memories of the bemusement my father felt for such frivolous things. I can still see the marble statues…hear the plans for an amphitheater being discussed with animated hands as mosquitos danced around us in the dusk…and I can still see my father shaking his head.

I must have been ten or eleven and no doubt more focused on one of the wonderful treats Mr. Willson had prepared for us indoors to care what an amphitheater was. Now I routinely stand with gardeners in their Edens and discuss overreaching plans that are based in fantasy and a glass of red wine – including my own.

The only shot I have of Mr. Willson proudly standing in his California foothills garden.

He is gone now too, but I so wish I had had more time to see his garden and his marvelous plans with wiser eyes. I have an aloe pup (of a pup of a pup) he gave me that sits on my desk next to this picture.

Speaking of wiser eyes – or at least, eyes that are now wise enough to recognize how thoroughly un-wise they are – what a brilliant column on the evolution of gardeners in Horticulture this month! No rebuttal from this quarter – you nailed that one. Judging from my young adult children, and my own memories of being supple, invincible and insufferable, it is not only gardeners who go through this “I-know-everything-I’m-a-rock-star” phase.

The fermenters for one. If I am lectured one more time at a party on the merits of lactobacillus by a bearded, gym-ripped Adonis with a koi tattoo on his calf, I may lose my carefully curated reputation as a well-behaved guest. Or as you might say, ‘my shit.’

I get it dude. You can pickle cabbage. So can I. So can three-quarters of the population of Poland. May I assume you’re also fostering a rare sourdough starter you brought back from a hostel in Bratislava last summer?

Whew. That’s obviously been building up.

But as you say (much more wisely, gently, and 100x less arrogantly than I seem to be able to express), it’s payback. I cringe to think of the party-goers I have annoyed with my new gardening discoveries that read to them as ancient history.

And the ones I’m currently annoying for that matter. It’s all relative. Until we leave this Earth with cherubims and seraphims at our heels, there is always someone older and wiser that wants to punch us in the mouth.

Perhaps all this confidence is as it should be. If in those earliest days of discovery, we were to come up against the enormity of all that we know right now that we don’t know, and not experience any wins that made us feel special…made us feel like we alone knew the answer…I think we’d most likely run scared, and turn our talents to ditch digging or politics. I have never felt less able to call myself an expert on growing things than I do now, more than twenty-five years into growing things.

And I feel almost panicked over how little time there is to absorb all that I’m hungry to learn. I’m at it 24/7 and there still isn’t enough time. Life gets so complicated so quickly that dropping everything and offering my unpaid services to Keith Wiley or Fergus Garrett or Panayoti Kelaidis for a year in exchange for knowledge unbound requires that I fake my own death.

One view (amongst hundreds) of Keith Wiley’s garden at Wildside in Devon. Yes, I know we’re back to England and it’s a sore point with you, but when I see a garden like this I realize the enormity of what I have left to learn.

Don’t think I haven’t thought about it. Why can’t we have two decades in our twenties? One to try everything and one for keeps. Or is that what our thirties are supposed to be?

But enough of philosophy and supple young joints.

We too have had one of the most glorious springs in memory. Long and lingering, it has allowed so many early bloomers such as epimedium, dicentra (I know, lamprocapnos, &$%@! taxonomists), claytonia, brunnera, trillium, mertensia, narcissus, leucojum, kerria etc. to hold those blooms for weeks – right up until the freezes we had that you sent from the Midwest.

Self-seeded and superb – Brunnera macrophylla

Even the sanguinaria held on longer than two days. After the freezes, the temps stayed cool and revived almost everything. My newish ‘Rose Marie’ magnolia took a huge hit – both blossoms and leaves – as did ‘Jane’, but as Michael said, now they can boast of a tough childhood.

Sanguinaria canadensis ‘Multiplex’

One of the most surprising semi-casualties was a Rodgersia podophylla ‘Rotlaub’ I have grown for five years since I brought it back from Dancing Oaks Nursery in Oregon. It has weathered much in the way of crazy springs, flagged a little, but never been hit so hard by a cold snap. As I thought of it as an early emerger, I was gobsmacked that it couldn’t pull itself together for a night. But when I went back to my records, I realized that the warm winter had gently made me think that we were later than we were, and with all the days blending together right now, who the hell knows what day of the week it is, much less where the rodgersia should be.

Still, lesson learned, filed away under ‘fail,’ and thankfully the plant has begun to re-sprout. I understand from a friend in Colorado that this is a normal state of affairs in a region that giveth and taketh away every May, but it’s hard to see such a gorgeous plant on its knees. Again, this is where you cannot beat hard experience – and many years of it.

The Lord giveth….

And the Lord taketh away.

Meanwhile, in more resilient quarters, each spring I come back to epimedium and brunnera as two genera that are woefully underplanted by the general public. It’s not their fault. For whatever reason neither is commonly sold. It probably has much to do with how they present in 6” pots – not as much come hither as a greenhouse begonia. But so much ease, and so much to offer shade gardeners tired of staring at hosta. Unaffected by the freezes, and by most things really Except for Southern blight on the brunnera in the summer months – yep, that scourge is in my soil in places.

A little ‘Jack Frost’ brunnera in the midst of some blushing E. x versicolor ‘Sulphureum’

I share your enjoyment of ostrich ferns and try very hard not overuse them in my quest to conquer Japanese stilt grass. They are overusing themselves I fear. Plant one, you have a hundred; and as you say, late freezes halt them only for seconds. They have already shoved out a robust stand of Arisaema triphyllum and are heading for the A. ringens and A. consanguineum if I don’t pull out the shovel. And move the arisaema. Such beautiful Jurassic monsters.

Do you grow vegetables somewhere on that plot of yours? The asparagus are coming in well this year and the kale is putting a little green in my juice every day.

Wait, that’s every week. I’m forgetting. It’s the wine I drink every day. The wine.

Especially at the moment.

I have put off mentioning COVID-19 and the unbearable state of things until the end of this letter, and quite frankly, I am tempted to sign off and leave it there, the entire business is so upsetting. But in response to your question – should we build gardens for nursing homes and tend gardens for first responders during this pandemic – the answer is of course yes; but then, we should build gardens and help our struggling neighbors where we have the ability at every opportunity.

Though it seems like this will never end, it will. The true question is, will we do these things when it is all over? Will the new Victory Gardeners keep gardening without a pandemic to worry them? Will people still remember to bring a bouquet of tulips to a nurse’s door, or plant up a windowsill garden for an elderly friend when there are stores to be shopped and weekend recreating to be done. Will I?

I hope so. We are not judged so much I think by what we do when the emergency is obvious and push comes to shove, but what we do when the world stops shoving and we can quietly return to familiar routines. Your thoughts are laudable and wonderful however. Do not let my cynicism blight them.

As for your promise of you both joining me in the UK next year on a garden tour, you might want to ask yourself if you are truly safe in a country whose beloved horticultural institutions you’ve publicly disparaged. I’m not saying I would rat out your identity, but then again, I’m not saying I wouldn’t. Of course I wouldn’t let them hurt Michele – she’s one of us.

Make sure Michele brings this picture tucked into her passport. They may require proof.

As for me – do I want an Olympic level smart ass sitting in the back of the [exceptionally comfortable] coach, sipping red wine and throwing out occasional witticisms to the raucous laughter of all present? I sat through that once already remember.

What the hell. But I’m telling you right now, I’ll have the microphone this time and I know how to use it.

My best to you both,

Marianne

P.S. We got a new puppy. An Irish Wolfhound named Nessa. Mungo is currently seeking legal representation.

P.P.S. Love your mossy walks. LOVE them.

Lingering Springs, Bittersweet Memories and The Evolution of a Gardener originally appeared on GardenRant on May 14, 2020.

The post Lingering Springs, Bittersweet Memories and The Evolution of a Gardener appeared first on GardenRant.

from Gardening https://www.gardenrant.com/2020/05/lingering-springs-bittersweet-memories-and-the-evolution-of-a-gardener.html via http://www.rssmix.com/

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turfandlawncare · 4 years

Text

Lingering Springs, Bittersweet Memories and The Evolution of a Gardener

The latest in the on-going correspondence between Marianne Willburn & Scott Beuerlein.

__________________________________

May 14, 2020

Lovettsville, VA

Dear Scott,

Dad and I in the garden that fed our family during “the college years” in Iowa.

The only shot I have of Mr. Willson proudly standing in his California foothills garden.

Whew. That’s obviously been building up.

Don’t think I haven’t thought about it. Why can’t we have two decades in our twenties? One to try everything and one for keeps. Or is that what our thirties are supposed to be?

But enough of philosophy and supple young joints.

Self-seeded and superb – Brunnera macrophylla

Sanguinaria canadensis ‘Multiplex’

The Lord giveth….

And the Lord taketh away.

A little ‘Jack Frost’ brunnera in the midst of some blushing E. x versicolor ‘Sulphureum’

Do you grow vegetables somewhere on that plot of yours? The asparagus are coming in well this year and the kale is putting a little green in my juice every day.

Wait, that’s every week. I’m forgetting. It’s the wine I drink every day. The wine.

Especially at the moment.

Make sure Michele brings this picture tucked into her passport. They may require proof.

What the hell. But I’m telling you right now, I’ll have the microphone this time and I know how to use it.

My best to you both,

Marianne

P.S. We got a new puppy. An Irish Wolfhound named Nessa. Mungo is currently seeking legal representation.

P.P.S. Love your mossy walks. LOVE them.

Lingering Springs, Bittersweet Memories and The Evolution of a Gardener originally appeared on GardenRant on May 14, 2020.

The post Lingering Springs, Bittersweet Memories and The Evolution of a Gardener appeared first on GardenRant.

from GardenRant https://ift.tt/2WTIAZp

#GardenRant

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scootoaster · 4 years

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The polar vortex is bringing snow to the US this weekend, because chaos loves company

The cold front will start moving in on Friday. By Saturday night, things will be chilly. (National Weather Service/)

— NWS New York NY (@NWSNewYorkNY) May 7, 2020

— NWS Boston (@NWSBoston) May 6, 2020

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travelinglifeshighways · 6 years

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Biltmore to Boone

Biltmore to Boone – Wednesday, April 11, 2018

Weather clear – Temp 62°

Morning on the French Broad River had a slight chill in the air but the sun warmed things up nicely. The short drive across the river to the Biltmore Estate was quick with little to no traffic and we found our way to the RV parking lot C and grabbed the shuttle to the main house.

Biltmore House is one of my favorite places to visit in the past hitting it during all four seasons with a different motif decorated for each season. My favorite times are during the Christmas or fall times of the year, it’s beautiful. Biltmore is a large (6950.4 acre or 10.86 square miles) 250 room private estate and now a tourist attraction near Asheville, North Carolina. Biltmore House, the main residence, is a Châteauesque-style mansion built by then 25 year old, George Washington Vanderbilt II between 1889 and 1895 and is the largest privately owned house in the United States, at 178,926 square feet of floor space (135,280 square feet of living area (4 acres under roof). Vanderbilt's decision to locate his mountain mansion near Asheville, NC, led to his purchase of a total of 125,000 acres surrounding the site. Today, Biltmore Estate encompasses approximately 8,000 acres, including formal and informal gardens designed by Frederick Law Olmsted, the father of landscape architecture in America. Vanderbilt also wanted his mountain home to provide family and friends with recreational pleasures: an indoor swimming pool, bowling alley and gymnasium are located downstairs. I believe it was the first indoor plumbing home in the nation with running water and sewage lines installed in the many bathrooms and kitchens.

The gardens around the house are in bloom from April through November’s first frost with a wide variety of plants, flowers, and shrubs around the grounds. The winery is about five miles west of the main house in Antler Hill Village with wine tasting and tours included in the admission price. There are two places to spend the night on the grounds at the Inn at Biltmore Estate and the Village Hotel which is located near the winery.

Today the house was abuzz with people and school groups touring the house and grounds. We started with a cup of coffee and sweet treat to get ready for the tour inside the house. One of the added attractions this visit was the Titanic collection of costumes from the movie on display in the different rooms. The exhibit included photos from the movie with the explanation of the costume piece worn by the different actors and actresses.

The house tour wound its way around the main floor then up to the second and third floors then down to the basement level showing the different bedrooms, dining rooms, bowling alley, swimming pool and servant’s quarters and kitchens. It is always a fun and informative tour seeing the art and books on display.

Making our way outside and down the hill to the gardens it was walking into a sea of colors and the tulips were in bloom and covered several acres in varying colors. The paths winding around the different greenhouses were filled with many species of plants and flowers. The tour stated over 3 million plants were planted around the estate not including all the grafted plants done on the grounds.

It was a fun day seeing everything in bloom and I cannot wait until the exhibit Chihuly at Biltmore starts in May through October 7. I will have to make another trip up to see it after this adventure.

The road north out of Asheville started the Blue Ridge Parkway climbing up the mountains and running the ridge lines across the mountain range. The scenery was great but the trees and flowers were not in bloom yet as the elevation still had its winter coat on things. There had been snow all along the Parkway last Saturday so the normal summer greens seen along the roadway were not there.

We drove along seeing the rural farm lands and houses scattered along the route and made it to Grandfather Mountain when the road once again was closed off making for another change in our route along Hwy 221. This stopped just before the Linville viaduct so driving 221 from Linville to Blowing Rock was one dangerous curve after another. I had forgotten how bad the road was back in my youth I visited Linville, North Carolina and Grandfather Mountain every year flying in the Masters of Hang Gliding Championship tournament. It is a beautiful area with the mountain elevation at 5,939 feet. I came here for six years flying with some of the best hang glider pilots in the world as this competition was by invitation only. Hugh Morton owned the mountain and hosted the Masters tournament every year and also had an exhibition team flying. We landed down by the lake on a helipad and I remember there were several water landings each year. Hugh passed on several years ago and his family keeps the mountain going with tourists and the golf and country club

This meant the campground I had wanted to stop was inaccessible on the closed road so now as the sun was setting it was time to find somewhere else to spend the night. Boone, NC had a Walmart I could boondock in but there was a nice campground along a steam just outside town so Traveling Life’s Highways took another slight detour along the way.

I didn’t really talk with anyone today who I wanted to write about but the shuttle bus driver from the RV parking lot to the house and back was a hoot spouting off little known facts of information about Biltmore which you had to take with a grain of salt because he may have stretched the stories a bit along our way.

#Traveling Life's Highways #Biltmore House #Asheville #Boone

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benjamingarden · 4 years

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This Month On The Farm: September 2020