Spring Business

April is here and suddenly there is not enough time to do everything that needs doing! The days are mostly dreary and cold, but on those rare sunny ones, out come the shovels, the rake, the pick ax, the hoses, the seeds, the transplants, the dreams!

The old garden overwintered with its layers of straw, chicken manure, leaves, woodashes (too many perhaps!), and other half composted materials. It truly is inspiring to see how improved the soil is after breaking down its winter blanket. There is a blackness beginning, the rocks and pebbles are less glaringly obvious, and the worms - oh! the worms! I can gather up the soil and feel the beginning of a rich humus potential, feel a glimpse of that soft, dark, nutrient rich mix after which organic gardeners strive - the holy grail of gardens. Time and carbon based materials... someday I WILL have that perfect soil... each plant species lovingly tended with just the right pH, just the right mix of nitrogen and phosporous and potash and microbes... It'll just take a whole stinkin' lot of time.

Then there is the "new garden" - probably forever affixed to that title - that has provided plenty of sweat making opportunities for me this spring. The New Garden began on a very sunny southerly slope, unfortunately all river rock, knapweed and crabgrass with a sprinkling of root-entangled chokecherries. The pickax, manure, grass clippings, plus an entire truckload of compost came together to create a reasonable first year garden. After raiding my dad's yard, I returned home with millions (well, not really) of strawberry starts, boysenberry canes, and raspberry canes that easily filled half the new space. The rest of the garden will be used to plant my tomatos, peppers, basil and cucumbers - I need that sunny space!

Three simple transplant species would never be enough from dad's gardens, so I also brought home gooseberry bushes and rhubarbs (one of each in the picture above), wild roses, horseradish, mints, oregano, and an ancient sage that are now scattered slapdash about the unfenced yard, just daring those ever-rankling deer to BITE THIS and get a mouthful of thorns or overpowering flavor.

The fruit trees (like this pipestone plum) are beginning to awaken also, their buds swelling as a reminder that it is already too late to prune. Maybe next year I'll make it on time!

Finally, observing the swelling buds, I think about blooms which inevitably leads to thoughts of honeybees. I have debated mightily this year about taking on another hive after last year's loss. However, I have been extraordinarily blessed by people who want to help during this time and have offered their practical services (such as installing the electric fence), so my mind was made up - the package is ordered and my carniolan bees will arrive in early May. Carniolans, which originated in the Northern Balkans, Slovenia and the Caucasians are typically more cold-hardy than Italians, so I thought they would be a good breed with which to begin another hive. I would love to try Russians, but need a little more experience under my belt before taking this newer breed on, plus, I wonder how cold hardy they truly will be after now being bred in Lousiana. That one is a challenge that must wait til next year. One thing is certain - I will learn indefinitely - there is no way to know it all or even really to begin to touch the surface... gardens, bees, life - its always full of new and wonderously exciting adventures!

The Arrival of Summer

A note of thanks to everyone's kind words and helpful insights regarding my unfortunate hive loss... There is such kindness in the world...

There is a magical thing occurring. Warmth, long lingering light, everything alive and growing.

Summer in the Flathead.

I have spent so much time outdoors that I find it difficult to sit at this computer. But the beauty of the evening enticed me into, at the very least, viewing my photos. So now here I sit and remember and wait with growing anticipation for the coming morning...

The kitchen window - first the white serviceberry blooms, then the white chokecherry blooms, now the white mock orange blooms... the beautiful white succession.

Baby Kajsa enjoying summer in the yard

A summer evening panorama

The garden... so many salads, so much broccoli, so many spinach and turnip greens frozen away for the winter... now turnips, cabbage and even a beet!




He sits there, on one of his two main perches, framed by the heavy firs and mock orange and glacial blue river... I realize I love it here... I have the vast blessing to live here.

I am content.

Chaos Versus Cleanliness

The Progressing Garden

I've got to admit, I'm a dichotomy. Maybe everyone is, really. There is a part of me that appreciates structure, yet a more pronounced part that yields to the chaotic. You won't find perfectly rowed monocultured vegetables in my garden, instead a cacophony of interplanting companions... a dash of herb there, and splash of mustard here. That's my dad rearing up in me... his garden has always been a resplendant display of gently organized wildness. I also love writing music... not just writing music - feeling music onto those straight staff lines... letting it ebb and flow in its own meandering mode. Maybe that's why I find myself drawn to the undeveloped - the natural so often... there is more intense beauty there than in any clean line I've ever seen... My chaotic side is the most prevalent... perhaps more so because I married an engineer? We naturally balance eachother's stronger attributes? We subconsciously fulfill a piece of a the whole?

A Beautiful Broccoli Beginning

However, overarching all the espressive chaos, I DO savor orderliness - the structure of a day, a week, a season. There's a time and a place and reason for all those events we base our lives upon. The time to plant, the time to rest, the time of the last frost, the time of the first frost, the time to get my daughter up for school, the time to read our bedtime books, the time to learn, the time to share, the time for noise, the time for quiet. All the little times working together to form a life... all purposeful, all divined. I am so happy to experience it all, to be able to express both aspects.

Chaos in the Peas

Proper Pepper Propping... Perfect!

Order... Chaos... What DOES tend to incite my order analities is my desire for a clean house - I get that from my mom... her structure and cleanliness kept us kids healthy, well loved, safe. Her home was, still is, unabashedly clean. I relish the feel of fresh shining floors under my feet, of smooth white bathtub walls, of sparkling stainless steel kitchen sinks, not even a streak of mineral deposit or grease... I may not have all the paperwork filed away, all the little piles of this and that in their proper places, but, darn it, my house is scum free!


Super Shine!

I make my own cleaners - I have since my daughter was a baby seven years ago. I just can't stomach the thought of any extra chemicals assaulting young cells. Here are my cleaner recipes... they work just as well as the toxics, if not better!

Baking Soda Scour Paste: baking soda mixed with just enough liquid soap to create a thick paste, plus a couple drops tea tree oil

Disinfectant Spray, Window Wash, Multipurpose Cleaner, Wood/Tile Floor Cleaner: white vinegar plus 6-8 drops tea tree oil per small bottle

Wood Polisher: 1:1 ratio white vinegar to olive oil

Well, enough of this random post! :)

Hives and Produce

Inspecting for the Queen

How glad I am! For the last week, anxiety has welled up at the thought I may have inadvertantly swatted the queen away last inspection. After reviewing the queen photos and noticing her long black shape, I recalled swatting a long skinny wasp-looking thing away from last week's comb. Was it the queen?! Could I have been so flippant? Waiting, waiting, waiting to find out... then, on this inspection I saw plenty of new eggs, capped brood, larva, no new queen cells - all good signs of queen health. Finally, I found Flower yet again, diligently poking in and out of the cells. Phew! The anxieties of a beekeeper once more relieved!

A Followerboard Comb

The bees have built this bedraggled looking comb once again on the first followerboard. I pried it off last week in the hopes they'd build only upon the bars, but its back. I'm not sure what the purpose is, as it is accessible by only one side, not uniform in shape at all, and storing only nectar. I decided I'd leave it be now... it must be a food store at least.

The rest of the combs look good - definitely progressing appropriately. There are now six fully built combs, with a seventh beginning. The sixth bar holds a new find - a double comb full of either nectar or honey... I'm too inexperienced yet to differentiate. I am hoping this doubled up comb does not create difficulties in later comb spacing but left it alone for the time being. My interference does not seem to help much, rather hinder - the bees know their comb building much better than me!

Double Comb

Yesterday was a day of the new. New gardens planted, new plants sprouting, new food. My son and I planted the summer garden... lets see... cucumbers, crooknecks, zucchinis, butternut squash, pole beans, bush beans, more tomato and peppers, basil, dill, marigolds, nasturtiums, sunflowers, my celery seedlings (started months ago), corn, some more mesclun mix. Then we harvested a delicious salad for dinner - FINALLY! The salad was a mix of spinach, mustard, little tiny radishes, young turnip leaves, mesclun mix, lettuce, green onion, chive, terragon, lemon mint, and some purple leafy plant my dad previously scattered about. It was... flavorful!

First Garden Salad of the Year

The sun has been shining with an increased intensity lately - it makes me feel joy and ambition, and it seems to incite similar attitudes in the garden. Each day I watch as new things appear and old things advance... potatoes are sprouting all over the place, spinach leaves double in size nearly daily, peas are now able to be trellised... oh, and weeds are finally threatening their mass usurpation. No worries there, however - I just can't seem to stay away long enough to let the weeds abound. I find myself drawn out there morning, noon and night. Drawn out to wander, poke around, beg and plead new seeds into sprouts, nibble older things here and there... My kids are just as enticed by the greenery and know nearly every plant by name and taste and danger level (no potato leaves, kids!). The thrill at seeing one of our honeybees alighted upon a tomato leaf! The titillation of a spicy mustard leaf upon the tongue! Its all so sensory, it has to somehow advance young brain development.

The Finished Salad
A few additions - tomato, cheese, garbanzo beans and leftover chicken, and the salad was a complete meal!

This and That This Afternoon

Busy Bees

The weather minimally cleared this afternoon, enough that the bees were out and about. Watching the hive entrance is a social studies/science lesson in itself. There are bees flying in and out at a continuous pace, with about one fourth of those incoming full of pollen. Pollen pollen bright pollen - mostly yellows and orange, and stuffing back leg pollen sacks to the brim. Some bees seem so heavy they appear clumsy - almost like maneuvering an overloaded cargo plane into a tiny terminal. They are relentless in the quest for food.

Springtime at the House

The green is beautiful... a soft framework around harsh angles. It makes me want to roll down a hill and eat garden chives.

A Plastic Garden

It would seem plastic is inevitable for a successful Flathead garden. My broccoli, cauliflower and cabbage seedlings - so spindly from their indoor plantings - have enjoyed their own personal milk jug greenhouses for the past couple weeks. They were anorexic seedlings when I transplanted them, but now are bulking up and flexing their strong leafy muscles.

The cold frame in the background is rebar, 6 mm plastic and some old PVC tubing... pretty simple. I did transplant two tomatoes - two that were starting to look pretty rootbound themselves - to see if my cold frame experiment will work so early in the season. After the transplant I had a sudden surge of tomato empathy and ran into the house, microwaved a bowl of water, shoveled some woodstove coals, and gently poured both amongst the two plants. We'll see what happens!

This and That This Morning

The Jungle on My Table

My poor tomatoes. They were planted (unwisely I might add) in mid February and now have taken over my dining room table. I've replanted them several times in makeshift newspaper planters, but they are more than ready to get outdoors. I am experimenting with a cold frame of sorts (more on that later). Two unlucky (or hopefully lucky) tomatoes will meet their experimental fate there today.

April Showers, May... Fires?

Another cold day... I suppose I have to indulge in three favorite wintertime staples - fire and coffee and newspaper...


The BEST coffee - isn't it wonderful, Flathead friends?



Hmmm... sweet Montana Nothing...

Alive and Thriving

Planting an orchard under a rainbow

Spring has sprung. Yep, no doubt about that. We have had a wonderfully busy few days soaking up the warming sunshine, planting cherries, plums, pears, apples, hazelnuts and even peaches (intrepid - good to a zone four!). My broccoli, cauliflower and cabbages are all nicely laid out in the garden. The final summer garden spading was completed and a cold frame is in the works. I have been pleasantly surprised by the blooms occuring on our hillside - serviceberries are slowly awakening, small chokecherries are preparing for their bloom, fairybells, wild strawberries, shooting stars, oregon grapes... and so many more are all flowering at last. The ginger scented arnica leaves share the rocky hillside with patches of nearly bloomed lupine and wild onions... I love seeing all this new life surrounding me. However, there are those that are more thrilled than I with all of these blooming wonders...

Beautiful Comb up Close

We made the first hive inspection on Sunday... Mother's Day... to finally observe if the queen was fulfilling her mothering duties. I was terribly nervous, despite having watched the busy bee business nearly every day, despite having witnessed their voracious sugar syrup appetites. I just didn't know for sure... But... what wonders! What a gift to gently lift the first topbar and see the beautiful, brilliant yellow comb hanging in a perfect curve, carefully attended to by the workers and filling up with pollen, nectar (or sugar syrup) and... EGGS. The evidence of the great mother among them. Though we did not find the queen this go around, we were pleasantly surprised to find five topbars with comb, to see the orange and yellow pollens coming in, to feel the docility of a harmoniously working colony.

A Topbar in the Sky

The comb's color was another unexpected surprise. The softest, newest comb with the most vibrant lemon yellow tint... from all of the dandelion pollen? We marveled at both the color and the engineering of comb. Holding the comb up against the sunlight, my husband - an engineer himself - immediately noticed the perfectly balanced structure of each cell... how the backside cells were aligned exactly halfway between the front cells, perfectly overlapping for optimal structural soundness. What intelligence! What design! And to think it all happens without (or despite) our superior human help...

Sarah holds a piece of comb I cut off

Compost, Glorious Compost

Evening Gardens Love Compost

I have a love hate relationship with compost. It all began when I was just an itty-bitty, probably two or three years old. There was something magical about the compost pile... old egg shells, rotten vegetables that were there one day and gone the next, worms, and even the occasional squash plant on steroids - or, well, compost. It drew me in for a closer look. One evening I was drawn in a little too far, wanted to experience it a little too closely, and my brother found me in the middle of the pile with a half-composted orange peel hanging from my mouth. Needless to say, I was sicker than worth remembering that night.

Fast forward a few years... the memories of after-dinner clean ups, pink skies, maybe a mosquito or two... then -horrors!- the command, "Anna, go dump the compost". I would approach that container of kitchen waste (usually an old Schwan's Ice Cream bucket), and be utterly nauseated by the smell. Subconscious memories of my days as a compost eater would return with a vengeance and threaten to take hold again. But chores must be done, no matter how challenging. There was no excuse, and I would venture way out back to the pile only to be greeted with more of that smell. I vowed never to compost when I was a grown up.

Fast forward to adulthood. Living in various locales where composting wasn't really an option made me realize how wasteful it was to not. I slowly began considering the merits of the pile, despite the smell, and a quiet longing to compost began to take hold. When we finally arrived at this point in life, where such a thing is an option, I find compost almost magical again. No worries - I don't intend to dive in, but in a sense I am eating it once more. That lovely black dirt is slowly substituting for the local rocky "soil", and my vegetables love it. We can mix it up with rotted manure and plant our trees there - to great success. I can sprinkle it in the "dog spots" in the grass, throw down some seed and there we go! It has a multitude of uses for feeding our plants, and ultimately our family... now I just wish I had more!

My son Jaegar and a new cherry tree to be planted in... you guessed it!

I Begin in April

I have to thank my friend Sarah for this foray into blogging. Actually, I have to thank Sarah for many inspirations - beekeeping, local Montana living, a partner in running. Its so comforting to have friends who hold dear the same things as me, who inspire me with their genuine kindness, encouragement and grace. These people are invaluable and add that sprinkle of happiness to the world -they make us better people.

It is late April. My cheeks still sport a slight pink tinge from my first sunburn of the season - Monday was actually high 70s hot! The sunburn is keeping me warm on this cold, low 30s SNOWY Montana spring Thursday. Yes, springtime is a fickle thing here in the Flathead. It teases us with its elusive warm sun... the nurseries and gardens are bustling on those rare days... only to find themselves lonely and windswept the next, possibly even with another dusting of snow. I can recall living in Southern California and longing for the inclement weather of my childhood, longing to long for the sun. Now - the longing is strong and pulsing and gets me as giddy as a schoolgirl at the prospect of another nice day. That's what makes life so wonderful, right? The longing, the anticipation, the appreciation for the new.

And new is coming! My spring garden was planted 10 days ago. Already mesclun, mustard, onions, garlic and radishs emerge. Every time its like a miracle - the miraculous emergence! I don't really believe it can happen, then - look kids! - there's a seedling! Somehow life begins again all on its own, and our collective breath is taken away. I look around outside the garden at the new irises and serviceberry leaves, the dandelions and lilacs and even the greening lawn, and I want to shout out in amazement, I want to drag anyone I can find outside and say, "Look! How can it be?! The green has actually returned!"

Ah, so much promise and optimism. It is a good time, and I am invigorated. Now, we finish the top bar bee hive and await our Monday arrival of bees, all the while checking in on the strawberry and asparagus transplants and the many new seedlings of this early Montana spring.