Down in my heart
Life continues here. There’s nothing notable to write about today, only some images from around Crooked Acres to share. I don’t know if it’s possible to love a home any more than I love this place. It’s the strangest thing; I’ve liked the other houses we lived in, but I never felt the same, well, connection, for lack of a better word. Used to be, I looked forward to leaving work because I was leaving work. Now, I look forward to leaving work because I’m coming home.
Something about this place is different from our other houses. I don’t know if it’s the age and character, or the space, or all the sweat equity we’ve invested, but almost daily I’ll find myself overwhelmed with joy at being here.
Different things spark the feelings: watching the chickens run across the yard in their hilarious slow-motion lope, wings extended for balance and heads bobbing; picking a bumper-load of veggies after a rain; riding the tractor as I cut the back forty on a hot sunny day. Most of the time the catalyst for the joy is random, but there are two things I can always count on to bring it.
Walking the property after all the grass has been freshly cut does it to me every time. There’s something about the smell, about the expanse of green and knowing that it’s all ours. Matter of fact, I spent the better part of the day yesterday cutting all our grass, and it was the sight of the property when I was done that led to this entry. I wanted to share pictures.
Cutting everything took me about five hours, but the time flew by and the sense of accomplishment at the end was nice, as was the view.
The other thing that always makes the happy feelings well up in me is a little odd: going down the stairs. I wish I knew what it is that does it. I know that when we first looked at the house, the smell in the stairwell was very comforting to me, like an old library. That smell isn’t as strong now, probably because of all the paint and stain and polyurethane, but there’s still a hint of it. I suspect there’s some old memory buried deep in my subconscious that our stairwell brings out.
What’s especially strange is that going up the stairs doesn’t do it, just coming down. More specifically, it’s coming down the lower portion that does it. Without fail, I get inexplicably happy as I round the newel post, one hand sliding over its age-worn surface — but I ain’t complaining. I’ll take all the happiness I can get. Who wouldn’t?
Anyway, thus ends the touchy-feely portion of the entry. I’ll shut up now and make with some pictures. I have a date with a chicken coop and a pitchfork.
At Crooked Acres, animals that are normally enemies are the best of friends:
Sorry for the blur; it was through the screen door.
Had I gone outside, the chickens would have come running in hopes I had food.
And with good reason, because most of the time I *do* have food.
I discovered last week that the girls love them some green cantaloupe,
so any time I find one that’s had a rind breach (bugs), I pick it and give them a treat.
The girls turn 18 weeks today, the youngest age at which egg-laying begins.
Sometime over the next six weeks we should start getting eggs.
Hopefully, the next six weeks will tell us for sure what Frick’s sex is.
I’m starting to think maybe he’s actually a she.
This view makes me really happy.
Sunshine and sunflowers would make anyone happy.
Most of ours are starting to get top-heavy and tippy now.
We had a couple of garden woes this last week, and I had to do a little surgery. First, our squash was infested with squash vine borers (bugs). Originally, when the leaves started turning yellow with white spots, I thought we had powdery mildew and treated it accordingly. It looked for a few days like it was getting happier, but then it took a turn for the worse. Production fell more and more, and I finally decided to pull it up and just plant more.
Such is the joy of having a long growing season. 
When I pulled up the first vine, I snapped the stalk and found it full of white grubs. I knew right away what they were, because I’d read about them. I wish I’d read more, though, because I didn’t realize that the little gray stinkbug-looking things I’d seen in the garden were adult borers. I guess that’s neither here nor there, though, because once you’ve got borers you’re pretty much screwed. The most effective treatment for them is a proactive approach.
The other problem in the garden was the melons, and especially the watermelons. Our garden patch was wild grass when I first tilled it, and as such, the ground was loaded with seeds. That’s the main reason we’ve had such a weed problem this year; after a couple of years the weeds shouldn’t be such an issue.
I kept the melons well-weeded as long as I could, but once they started running I left them alone because everyone told me if you touch/move the melon vines too much it’ll kill them. The weeds in the watermelon reached my shoulders last week, and were such a thicket all the watermelons were getting choked out. The melons were stunted, the leaves were yellow and sickly, so I made the executive decision to raze the watermelon area.
The cantaloupes are still around because the weeds aren’t as bad with them, and we may still be able to save something there. We have probably 100 close-to-ready cantaloupes out there. Hopefully some of them will make it.
Here’s what the squash and watermelon spots look like now.
You can see the edge of the cantaloupes at the bottom right.
I was able to save two watermelons for rind preserves.
And speaking of preserving things, this is what cannery row looks like now.
So far, Robyn has frozen several bags of green beans, and we have fifty-six pints canned. We would have more, but we pitched several pints because we discovered that the first canning method made the green beans mushy.
Fifty-six pints so far, from a single row of green beans.
This is a SECOND row of green beans, planted a month ago when I thought the
first row wasn’t producing enough. These guys should start flowering soon.
I may end up divorced over this.
The black-eyed peas are finally starting to come in.
We ate these last night with dinner. They were phenomenal.
This is the whole row of black-eyed peas. Once again, I may have planted too much.
If there’s a such thing.
My motto in life: why just do something when you can overdo it?
A couple of cantaloupes, taking their time about getting ripe.
Yeah, plenty of tomatoes. Robyn canned four pints of salsa for me yesterday,
using tomatoes, onions, green peppers, and jalapenos all grown right here.
The okra is almost as tall as I am now.
Little cukes are coming in.
The eggplants are very happy. We’ve been having parmagiana regularly for weeks.
Peppers and Japanese eggplants, waiting to be eaten.
I may try making some pepper jelly soon.
My mid-summer experiment: two more rows of corn and a row of squash (not yet sprouted).
The plastic is to keep the weeds out, and I’ll put mulch around the plants once they’re a little taller.
I’m also running soaker hoses down each row. If this works, I may do the whole garden this way next year.
Invest some time and energy up front, and free up a LOT of weeding time over the rest of the season.
Our tiny little orchard. All the fruit died in the big April freeze.
The pecan trees bounced back pretty well after that freeze, and almost all of our trees
have green pecans right now. They’re not loaded down, but we may get enough for a pie or two.
This view gives me irrational exuberance.
And a desire to clean the lens of my camera.
Even Poltergeist tree makes me joyous.
Fred your cup runneth over. The spirits in the house must be very happy with you and Robyn. Who knows, you may even be a re-in-car-nation of the first owners. You are very good at what you do. Thanks for sharing.
I think I know what you mean. Our lot is only an acre, but the mature landscaping and a well-placed privet hedges around the foundation beds sold us on this house. We’ve lived here almost 20 years and my husband still loves spending the day puttering around the rose bushes, fighting off the pocket gophers like Elmer Fudd. I’m in charge of the indoors and the exterior paved areas so I don’t get outside as much as he dies but when I used to mow, I came to understand why my son and husband never complain about the task. The lawn tractor is like driving without traffic or red lights or fear of idiots running into you. Sorta’ restful. It’d be perfect if there were no noise.
I know a quick, sure fire way to tell of Frick is a rooster is to get an adult rooster and toos in the mix. If Frick and the new guy fight, well, ya got 2 roosters now
I am glad to know you both are happy in your new digs. I grew up that way and miss it something awful!
Fred,
You and Robyn have done a great job on the house and yard. The chickens and garden look healthy. You’ve made me want to plant a garden next year - not on the scale as yours, but definitely something. Congrats on all ya’lls hard work.
LJ
Excellent work. Much as you inspired me to lose weight (70 lbs so far), I am now inspired to start a garden. Actually I’ve been kind of talking with my wife about starting one for a couple months. I figure if I clear a space and lay down newspapers and mulch now, I’ll have good soil next Spring.
I know you read a lot but do you have one or two books/websites you’d recommend for a beginning veggie grower?
Hi Fred… I live in the pacific north west so my garden is behind yours by at least a month, but yours makes me very excited and motivated for mine. I wanted to share this magazine with you: http://www.motherearthnews.com/
I don’t know if you have seen it yet. It is a crunchy tree hugger magazine to say the least, but it always has amazing articles and how to’s. There is a lot in there to learn about living on a fabulous piece of land like yours. Not that you need it, you and Robin seem like old pros, but I look forward to mine every month and I am guessing you will too.
Fred,
It is good to read how happy you and Robyn are in your new home. Your gardens and yard look amazing. Best wishes!
Thanks, guys. After I posted yesterday, I went out to the garden and discovered that the 2nd row of green beans bloomed overnight. Woohoo for more beans!
MG: We already subscribe.
Gareth: The forums at homesteadingtoday.com have been invaluable, as well as Carla Emery’s Encyclopedia of Country Living (there’s a link up higher on this page, to the left). It’s not just a gardening book, but it has lots of useful information about gardening. I’ve heard good things about The Joy of Gardening, but I haven’t read it.
If you get a divorce, make sure you get half the canned veggies!
I know what you mean about feeling joy to come home. My fiance and I moved into our first house last weekend after years of apartment living. The house is 97 years old and is at the end of a quiet little street, and has an incredible front garden that the former owner planted and maintained, as well as a back yard full potential (once I pull all the weeds). I haven’t felt so attached to a house since I lived at my parents’ bungalow when I was a kid. Your gardens and chickens are looking great!
Hi Fred, Lovely entry. Question for you: in the irrational Exuberance photo, there is a white building to the right of your house. Is that your garage? A neighbor’s house? Somehow I thought your garage was attached.
Louise: that’s the tractor shed / workshop building (you may remember me painting it a few entries back). Here’s a picture of it, and you can see part of the garage there, too. The garage isn’t attached to the house; it faces the side of it from the other side of the driveway.
You have inspired me to start a garden! Im going to be tilling up an area and getting it ready for planting next spring. Can you recommend a good book or two for reference?
Elizabeth, see comment #8
I LOVED today’s entry — hearing how you feel about your home and seeing the photos. Your home, land and garden are all GORGEOUS and I can see why you love it.
I worked as a realtor for many years and my favorite part about that job was seeing people end up in a home that they really loved.
Congrats on your happiness!!!!
Could it be that you get that feeling from the steps over the fact that was one of your first major “do it yourself” accomplishments when you started on the house. I remember (but of course am too lazy to look up the entry) that you went through a few issues but that you refinished and revamped them all by yourself. I do remember the sense of pride I read in your entry when you posted on that.
The girls are huge - I can’t believe how much they’ve grown!
What a lovely property! It makes me want to move back to the country (and eat a lot of peaches?) even more.
Fred, for all of your talk about being a poseur and a city boy, I think you truly have an old country soul. I’m glad that you and Robyn are so happy with your new homestead!
Fred, are you using a point and shoot digital or do you have a DSLR. It looks like you have dust on the image sensor from that picture of the sky.
What on earth are you going to do with that many cantalopes? Can you preserve them somehow? I can’t say that I have ever heard of preserved cantelopes but I’m a city girl so who knows? I reckon you guys will find a way, either that or open a fruit stand at the end of your driveway!
Congratulations Fred, You have finally grown up. lol That’s why you feel such joy when you come home each day. I was in my late 30’s the first time I noticed the trees, the wild flowers, the land around me. (We have 10 acres) And when I did, it made me smile. It’s “ours”, it’s “home”, it’s beautiful and I love it.
People move too fast these days and they don’t notice the most important things in their life. The solidity is skimmed over and only the shallow has their attention. This makes a person restless and “not really happy” and yet they may not know why.
I work because I have to. Otherwise, most of my time would be right here at my home, enjoying all there is on this little piece of land.
I’m still waiting on Ed McMahon and the prize patrol to show up on my doorstep to tell me that I’ve won the 10 million dollars, so I can finally stay at home. So far, he’s a no show. Damn him. Rat Bastard.
BTW, Frick looks like a hen to me. lol