Aaaahhh, It's Ark Building Season Again

I'm sitting all snug in the living room typing this post while it's just dumping outside at the moment. This is the first week in months where I won't be picking up the hose to water everything. As much as I loved the sunshine, this region could really use the rain. I heard a collective sigh coming from the plants as their stomata opened to allow transpiration to begin again in earnest. Even some of the big old western red cedars where starting to turn brown in spots in response to the extreme dry conditions. They are a tree species that prefers rich soil with even moisture.

Passed out from too much squirrel watching

Unfortunately, what comes along with the rain is the gloom. The thick grey skies tend to block out the light and with the shortening days can feel oppressive. I'm solar powered and tend to bog down when the light levels get low. I've noticed Snorky sleeping more too. He doesn't like being out in the rain and on potty walks, generally quickly lifts the leg then high tails it back inside. He prefers squirrel vigil from a cushy spot in front of the living room window.

Time to harvest the rest of the tomatoes.

Of course, the fall rain marks the beginning of the end of another tomato season. I don't have the plants under a hoop house, so they are starting to show signs of decline. Time to harvest the rest of them before the rain causes them split. It's been a really good tomato year with all the hot weather. However, now that its cooled down, my cabbages, kale and lettuce are doing a molecular happy dance.

The upside to all of this is that it hasn't gotten too terribly cold out yet. The daytime temperature has stayed in the low to mid 60's, so we haven't had to fire up the wood stove too much.

There's been 80 days of no rain and now the prediction is for one dry day this week. It's hard to predict what this fall and winter will bring, but from the squirrel activity up in the attic, I'd say insulate your own nest. And, while you're at it, get the waders ready.

Neiman Marcus is in the Backyard Chicken Business as Only NM Can

I can't believe what I just read: a prime example of the run amuck excessive decadence that is alive and well for a certain segment of this country's population. While many folk are wondering how they're going to pay their bills from month to month, Neiman Marcus is offering a hen house complete with heritage chickens and farming lessons. You're thinking, "OK, what's wrong with that?" Here's the thing; it costs $100,000!

Yep, for close to the price of a modest house for humans, your chickens could live in luxury. The Versailles inspired Heritage Hen Mini Farm is two stories of cushy luxury with a  'living room,' a broody room, a library with books, two Heritage Hen Farm pasture grazing trays, a waterer, a feeder, and a chandelier. Other furnishings and paintings aren't included, darn it, but the whole meal deal does include two private consultations with the hen house designer, Svetlana Simon. She’ll also select three to ten heritage-breed hens to suit the buyer's region and install two raised herb beds when she delivers the hen house. She’ll teach that lucky 1 percenter all they need to know about raising a flock of chickens in their back yard.

I bet real farmers that find out about this latest NM catalog addition will either roll on the floor in hysterical laughter or roll their eyes in disgust.

Now, NM does donate a whole $3,000 to the American Livestock Breeds Conservancy. Such a deal.

Image courtesy of Inhabitat.com.

If you're curious enough to read the article, visit inhabitat's web site.

Arborist Chips are a Gardener's Best Friend

Our pile that's being quickly disbursed.

Finally, I managed to flag down a tree service company in my neighborhood and put in a request to get a load of arborist chips. They delivered around 4 yards onto our driveway the next day. They couldn't get all the load out of the truck because the truck bed hit the sloped driveway not allowing it to be fully raised. But I got enough to accomplish some major sheet mulching around and in the beds. It's also important to note that the stuff was FREE. Sometimes the best things in life are free.

You don't have to pay $22 per yard for mulch. Many tree service companies are happy to offload their chipped up wood so they don't have to pay to dump it or store it themselves. You can call up a company who services your area and the next time they're around, they'll deliver the load. Even local utilities such as the power company will off load their chips for you.

This tree service company had a full truck and had to go to another job to work on a big leaf maple. My request was convenient for them so they wouldn't waste time and money taking the load to a dirt exchange or back to their yard to make room for the next load. They would have given me the whole shebang if they could (around 8-10 yards). Be prepared to get around 6-15 yards of the stuff, but you can always share it with neighbors and friends. In fact, several neighbors came over to get a few wheelbarrow loads for their own yards.

Twigs, leaves, bark and wood mixed together for a rich soil amendment.

I love using arborist chips as mulch for several reasons. The stuff mimics a forest floor. The first layer of soil on a forest floor is organic matter consisting of twigs, leaves, bark and wood which eventually breaks down and composts in over time. Arborist chips are made up of twigs, leaves, bark and wood which will eventually break down and compost in over time. Arborist chips retain moisture and add nutrients as the microorganisms do their thing. The chips suppress weeds. Put down a layer of corn gluten (seed germination suppressant) then the chips and you won't have much of any weed growth for the season. Any weeds that do grow are easily yanked out. Finally, some plants just grow better with some mulch around them. My poor artichoke plant just languished this summer, no matter how much water it got. The minute I put down a layer of chips, the thing perked right up and started growing like crazy.

Any plant that prefers rich, humus soil will love a layer of chips around its root system. They key is not to spread the stuff too close to the trunk or too deep. Three inches should do the trick, unless it's in a path. Any deeper, and you could suffocate a root system or, in the case of rhodies, inhibit bloom. Some plants don't like to be mulched at all such as lavender and sedums. Don't apply chips to plants that prefer dryer conditions and seemingly crappy soil.

Chips over a layer of cardboard around the beds looks nice.

Arborist chips works great as a path cover. I've been taking advantage of the nice weather to sheet mulch around the raised beds. I put several layers of cardboard down (also free from your friendly appliance store or snatch it off the curb on recycle days) then four or so inches of mulch down over that. I'm into getting rid of the grass in the yard, so sheet mulching should do the trick.

If you're concerned about spreading disease with mulch from many different sources, don't worry. Studies have shown that arborist chips do not spread plant diseases. In fact they can suppress some fungal diseases by burying the pathogen so the spores don't splash up onto the plant during a rain storm. Fungal communities found in wood chip mulches are generally decomposers, not pathogens. If you want more information on the benefits and myths around arborist chips, read this paper from the WSU Extension

Some folk don't like the look of arborist chips, preferring bark instead. I'm not a fan of 'beauty bark' myself. The raincoat of a tree is the bark, so putting bark down around your beds actually sheds water, creating drought conditions. Bark takes longer to decompose into the soil. Bark looks like poopy-doo within a a few months, so you have to keep reapplying it, which leads to a major reason not to use it: you have to buy it and it's fairly expensive. If you must use bark, put a top layer over your arborist chips (one inch of the three). You'll get the look and the benefits. And for cryin' out loud, don't use landscape fabric underneath the chips. It completely defeats the purpose of using mulch in the first place, but that's another entry.

So, now that it's fall, get that mulch down. You'll be happy with the results.

Squirrel Obsessed

Using the cat box for extra height

Our 5 pound Japanese Chin, Snorky lives to find squirrels. He spends countless hours on squirrel patrol and his favorite activity on walks is to chase squirrels to the end of the leash. His favorite squirrel park is Greenlake. Now that it's fall, the squirrels are out and about gathering food for the winter.

He's certainly been in heaven since discovering the rodents inside the house. I woke up this morning to claws clicking on the hardwood floor and sniffing noises emanating from his searching nose as he scours the house in his quest to find that squirrel. He hears them scuffling around in the attic and he strains his neck trying to sniff the ceiling. He keeps checking the spots he cornered them in before.

There's gotta be another one here

Of course we've been asking for it. Last year, Roland started to feed these critters peanuts on the front porch for Snorky entertainment while we're gone during the day, and now it's morphed into a Grade B horror flick - The Invasion of the Peanut Snatchers or a squirrel version of Willard only now called Roland. I anticipate waking up one morning, surrounded by a room full of these rodents demanding peanuts; the carcasses of seven cats and one small dog laying around. It won't end well.

A squirrel sits outside the living room window, two inches from Snorky's nose, peering into the house waiting for the peanut handout. Snorky has a mind-melt, trying to get through the glass division that is keeping him from the chase. Our new cat, Marcel has developed an interest and is stalking it and finally chases it into the camellia bush where it emits alarm calls. Snorky watches all this, shaking in desperation.

Excuse me, I hear barking in the laundry room so it looks like I have to go catch another one. . . .Yep, it's Mr. Docktail who ran out the cat door at the first opportunity.

Menagerie Mayhem

There's never a dull moment at Mog Cottage. With seven cats and one dog you'd think we'd have enough critters for one small house. But I guess we have to include the urban wildlife, since they seem to help themselves to our hospitality of cat food and warm lodgings. I've written about how the neighborhood raccoons and opossums come in through the cat door and help themselves to the cat food. The coons have even come into the kitchen and the mama's have made it a habit of showing their charges where the best and easiest pickin's are located. Roland says that the cats and urban wildlife have a joint operating agreement. We had a good relocation program going until the city caught wind and threatened to take away our birthdays. But that's another story.

Well, recently we've had what seems to be a growing brood of squirrels in the attic. I first started hearing them chewing up there last spring and with a brief quiet summer, they're back at it this fall. The neighbors admitted that they have been entertained looking out their kitchen window at twelve little rodents sunning themselves in the opening in the soffit hole where they've found their attic access.

Scared out of his wits and missing some tail!

Now they're not satisfied with the attic but have decided to expand into the house! For the last two days Snorky has been in heaven cornering three squirrels in various areas of the house. All of a sudden I hear barking and shrieking emanating from the kitchen or bedroom only to find a little terrified fury body huddled into a crevice resigned to its fate. It might have been going on for hours since I discover the mayhem when I get home late int he day. The squirrels have been youngsters and one manage to lose the end of his tail, I guess from exposing it to high out of the hiding place. Due to this distinction, I've surmised that it's been in the house twice now - not too bright but squirrels aren't known for their brains.

I've gotten quite good at taking a coffee can and a ruler to scoop them up to take them back outside. Sort of like a big spider, but cuter. Of course I have to remove the squealing dog from the premises first in order to concentrate on catching the rodent. It pretty much just huddles in the can until I take it outside where I have to dislodge it with several good shakes onto a camellia branch so it can recover from the ordeal. But there's no guarantee that it will have safe quarter in the shrub as the cats line up around the bottom and give chase when it attempts a get away. Squirrels are such fun things to chase.

Now I like wildlife, but I draw the line when they decide the inside of the house is a good place to set up camp. If this keeps up, they'll be getting a ride to the park down the road. We haven't been able to figure out where they're coming in, but I suspect that the coons and possums may be showing them the cat door.

A Quest for Red Threads

 We've managed to get a decent amount of potatoes this season, even though I hadn't planted any starts this year. Apparently, I missed some itsy bitsy taters when I dug them out last fall and they turned into sizable plants that gave us red and white potatoes of questionable varieties. The choices are Yukon Gold, Superior White and Red Norland. Red Norland would be the default for the red type and I'm thinking that the whites are a mish-mash between the other two. Far more red potatoes grew than white ones.

Hopefully I've thoroughly cleaned out the potatoes from the tub because this fall I've planted crocus bulbs. You're probably asking yourself why I would plant crocus bulbs instead of potatoes, but there's one simple reason: Saffron! I've planted Crocus sativus, the crocus that gives us the spice, saffron. I love to cook various Mediterranean cuisines such as paella and Persian dishes both of which call for copious amounts of saffron. Upon emptying out my tiny jar of the last of my saffron, I've decided to try and grow my own.

Spacing out the bulbs before planting.

Now saffron isn't only expensive to buy, it is THE most expensive spice on the market, and with good reason. It takes approximately 200,000 crocus stigmas to get a pound of saffron. That's 12,500 stigmas in an ounce. Now I didn't go out and purchase thousands of bulbs to plant in my yard. At around thirty-three cents a bulb at the local nursery, that would have cost around the price of a new car. Plus at 4 inches apart, that would require around 7400 square feet of garden space (at 9 bulbs per square ft.) or 616 claw foot bath tubs packed in without pathways (at 12 sq. ft each). So, I settled for 30 bulbs and spaced them between the cat proofing slats. At three stygmas per flower, I figure I'll get around 90 to 180 stigmas (with double flowers) which will probably fill up my tiny jar some. The next year I should get a greater yield because the bulbs will have multiplied, producing more flowers.

That is, if they don't rot from all of the rain we get around here. If you think about it, Saffron comes from arid climates; Spain and Iran. The PNW isn't exactly arid on this side of the Cascade Mountains, even when we haven't had much rain for the last several months. However, I've read that generous spring rains and drier summers are optimal. This year is a great example. Since this crocus variety flowers closer fall, I'm hoping that the flowers won't get beaten up by rain like tulips around here do in the spring.

Because of it's out of orbit cost, Saffron is one of the most counterfeited spices around. What is passed off as saffron by unscrupulous vendors is often really a type of marigold or safflower petal. You may see this  product coming out of Mexico on this side of the pond. Also, the Caribbean folk like to call turmeric saffron and turmeric is also passed off as saffron to unsuspecting tourists abroad. Unfortunately, even some fine restaurants try to dupe the customer by passing turmeric off as saffron. The best defense is to purchase it from a reputable specialty store, especially where folk from the Middle-East shop because they would know.

So, how do you tell if it's real? First of all, it should cost some scratch. If you think you're getting a bargain, chances are you're getting shafted. The litmus test is easy. Simply drop a few threads in a glass of warm water. If it takes a few minutes for the strands to diffuse a dark color, then it's the real thing.  If the stuff immediately colors the water yellow or a murky orange, then it's a fake. There's also a distinct flavor and scent that real saffron possesses.

So, I've decided to give it a go myself, and see what I can get. Watch for me next fall in the veg garden in the morning hours, bending over a claw foot bathtub with tweezers in hand to collect my bounty of Crocus sativus stigmas. Hmmm. Saffron, medicinal poppies and lavender. Do I detect a theme here?

When Cold Frames Aren't

When Roland built a cold frame out of recycled windows over one of the raised beds I was thrilled with the fact that I would have a place to harden off veg starts in early spring and germinate some more throughout the season.

I even prepared for warmer weather by cracking open the doors enough to vent out any hot air. We had beautiful starts of cucumbers, beans and other veg and even some ornamental plants coming up. Roland spent a bit of time planting and labeling the pots. Then one morning, when checking on things, the pots were bare soil!

Yep, something decided to munch down everything nestled in 4 inch nursery pots we had cultivated. Gone. This discovery prompted one of the few times that I wished I had a shotgun. But then I would have to sit up all night into dawn to catch the marauder, and I wasn't about to do that. Only gardeners who grow giant pumpkins do that. And that's on the East Coast.

You'd think our lazy, well fed mogs who love to lie around in there during the day would have been on guard, earning their keep. Of course any number of urban wildlife could have helped themselves: raccoons, opossums (highly unlikely) or squirrels. Much too much pest for a domestic feline to handle, of course. Since the doors were open just a couple of inches, I'm guessing a rodent of some sort or a herd of snails had their feast. What I should have done was close the thing up each night and then vent it during the day. What's interesting is that none of the outside crops got mowed down like that. Phooey!

So, instead I just shut the doors and ignored it all in a sort of denial that gardeners get when they know they've been outmaneuvered, sort of like that farmer in Shawn the Sheep cartoons. But that decision would also come back to bite me. After a cold, wet June we finally got some hot weather starting July 5th. Great, only that I underestimated how much heat nursery pots can take. I finally looked inside the cold frame on a hot summer day and noticed that a flat of empty nursery pots stored inside had turned into a Salvador Dali still life. I now have a flat of melty-pots. I guess you could also say that they were divinely inspired by the ghost of George Ohr. Instead of the "Mad Potter of Biloxi," I could become the "Mad Gardener of Ballard." Mad is the operative term here.

Note to self, #6 plastic melts in a cold frame turned hot house.