Pollinators

Last week my Master Naturalist chapter had a meeting. Dave Crawford was the speaker. He was a naturalist at two state parks on the upper Saint Croix river for almost 40 years. Now he is retired. He takes lots of pictures with a lens that is for seriously small subjects. He gave us some advice for land stewardship to help pollinators.  Don't rake your leaves. I didn't rake my leaves this year and now I don't feel guilty about it. Don't remove the stalks from your garden. Sweet. I don't have to feel guilty about that either.  He listed quite a few fall chores I never got around to and gave me permission to forget about them. He talked about flies and butterflies and moths and bees and wasps and hornets. Bumble bees are strong bees. They can pry apart flower petals that do easily separate. Solitary bees tend  not to sting.  Bees that sting are social bees and they want to protect their young. My mind wandered as he talked.I thought about the life of the queen bee.  There she is, sitting in the hive with her multiple husbands taking care of her. The soldier bees defend her with their very lives. If reincarnation is real, maybe a queen bee would be a good choice. He showed us slides of plants that encourage pollinators. He showed bergamot which is also known as bee balm. I had a huge bergamot plant in my prairie this year. I grew it myself from seed I pilfered from his state park. He talked about the wild bergamot being healthier for the bee's immune system than the bergamot you buy at a local nursery. The nursery chooses bergamot with showy petals and bright colors. Then I remembered the three stings I got from ground nesting bees this fall. These three bee stings were the most painful bee stings I ever received.  These bee stings hurt and were red and swollen for a full month. Maybe the fact I planted bergamot led me to experience more pain. I don't know. I could have identified what kind of ground nesting bees I had in my yard but I didn't. I was hiding from them. He showed a film he took of the ground nesting bees digging their home.  He put his camera just inches from the bee. I asked if he got stung filming and he said no.  The bee dug sand out and threw it backwards just like my old dog, Ruby, did when she dug holes. Dirt went flying up in the air.  Pollinators are cool. I love moths and butterflies.  I like flies as long as I don't think about the maggot stage.  Bees, well, I know they are important.  I just don't like getting stung.

The Wonder

My book club read The Wonder by Emma Donoghue. I really didn't like it.  You  might like it though if you like books set in Ireland after the potato famine and you like books about children suffering. I understand that in some cultures and societies it is considered saintly to starve yourself to death.  I do not understand how this can be.  I am glad we have treatment centers for eating disorders around here.

What Would You Buy?

I would buy security and safety and sensibility and sanity and success and sufficient and a little bit of serendipity.

Juliet in August

Juliet in August is a first novel and was written by Diane Warren. Wow, what a first novel.  Honestly I thought this book was written by Jane Smiley who also writes about farm life. This farm is set in Canada on the edge of the sand plains, basically on the prairie. Parkers Prairie came to my mind as I imagined each scene.  One character named Vickie Dolson reminded me strongly of a sibling and when I read that Vickie had twins, well, that sealed it for me. The entire story takes place in one day and one night but what a day and night it was. I wish I could write a book as good as this someday!

Freedom!

Chickens

 Yesterday with the help of a younger, stronger person I moved the coop to the winter HQ. Together we made some upgrades.  An expensive electric water bottle didn't work even though it was brand new so we went back to the rubber bucket method of watering. My pulley system of lifting the bucket of feet high so the chickens didn't soil their food didn't work so we suspended some other interesting things up there.  Actually I am not sure what is suspended up there. I haven't looked yet.  I used another watering dish to cover the food dish so they don't soil the food. The chickens have a fresh spot of prairie where they can stay until spring. They are parked on top of a big bergamot plant so we will see how that goes. I think the bergamot plant will look different in 2018 than it did in 2017. They got a boat load of fresh bedding so it is nice and cozy. A hole/skylight in the coop was repaired with duct tape in an attractive pattern. We even added holiday lights to the coop. Every time I look out the kitchen or bedroom or bathroom window to see the coop all decked out with holiday lights I can not suppress a chuckle. In the process of these chicken coop upgrades my friend thought it best to let the chickens have some freedom. I questioned that idea. Only Chickenson Caruso has been in and out of the coop long enough to know the ropes. But I agreed after he promised to help me round them up at the end of the day. We opened the door. The chickens weren't sure what to do except Chickenson Caruso.She knew the  drill.  She led the flock to freedom. All day they stayed close to the coop.At 5 p.m. we went to round up the girls. Within 5 minutes we had two chickens in the coop.  My friend felt confident we would get them all. I reminded him that panicked chickens are harder to catch. Within 10 minutes we had one in the coop.  Chickenson Caruso was loving the new bedding and had settled down comfortably. I went and found two ancient hockey sticks for my friend so he could guide the chickens in the direction he wanted them to go. I stood by and helped as best I could by singing songs about homesweethome. At 15 minutes we still had one in the coop.At 20 minutes we had two in the coop. At 30 minutes we had 2 in the coop.At 45 minutes of chasing chickens we had 2 in the coop. At 50 minutes we had 3 in the coop. I was surprised to see it was a cuckoo maran because I thought the Americaunas would be caught first. Now we had 3 chickens in the coop; one buff orpington, one cuckoo maran,and one Americauna.  I said I was cold and I was tired and I was hungry and would search for chickens for only 10 more minutes. Boy, we had some laughs today! What can a chicken owner do? I will set out some fresh food and water both inside the coop and outside the coop and see how it goes. I am not wandering around in the dark through the raspberry brambles and grape vines and spruce trees all night long. One would think a 3 pound bird would be easier to find! I still have half the flock so, in my opinion, the glass is half full.

Black Like Me

Disclaimer: I am not black. My melanin is uneven which is why I was never a fan of Freckle-face Strawberry flavored Kool-Aid. I am considered to be a white person with freckles and other lovely markings. Black Like Me  is a book written by John Howard Griffin. Mr. Griffin is also considered to be a white person. Whether Mr. Griffin is sane is a question I would ask but I am not sure he is still alive. He wrote this book in the same decade that I was born. This is a story of a white man who pretended to be black in Mississippi and Louisiana in the 19 freaking 50's! You can see why I question his sanity. He writes of his experience as if he were writing a grocery list. If any readers out there question why the streets and highways of Minneapolis were closed for protest reasons in recent years, just read this book. Then you will understand why black lives matter.

Minnesota Breeding Bird Atlas

The Minnesota Breeding Bird Atlas has been published.  Finally. I feel like I have been waiting for this publication for years. I volunteered for this project so my name is in there with some pretty famous (polish apple on sleeve) bird watchers. I had a lot of fun on this project.  I learned much about birds. I changed the way I view bird behavior.  I learned a lot of new roads near my house.  I got to go into the Scout Camp with permission even though I am  not a Boy Scout.  I made new friends. My block is T32R25a if you want to see my findings. I would do it again someday!

Voted

Last night I voted at my local precinct. I saw neighbors voting there too. I saw an unfamiliar neighbor who had a small girl child attached to her like a chimpanzee baby clings to it's mother. Being a grandmother of two girl children has opened my mouth so I start asking her questions.

1. Are you voting today? (she nods yes)
2. Are you old enough to vote? (she nods yes)
3. How old are you? (no answer)
4. 18? (no answer)
5. 21? (no answer but her mother prompts her to say she is two)
6. Is it legal for two year old to vote? (she nods yes)
7. Should your mommy vote? (she nods yes. At this point we voted and the conversation ended but I picked it up again as we left the church lobby)
8. Should your mommy run for office? (she says yes. Mommy says she doesn't have the time)
9. Should your mommy run for mayor? (she nods yes)
10. Should your mommy run for president? (she nods yes)
11. How about queen? (she nods yes and they get in the car and drive away).

Fall Transitions

Fall has come around again.  My priorities shift. I must empty that rain barrel!  I must mow and pick up these leaves! Forget the lawn and get a snow plow contract! Even the birds have shifting priorities. On Sunday I was lucky enough to be here for the cedar waxwing migration.  All the tiny crab apples were snarfed up by this noisy group of beautiful birds. I most enjoy watching them come to the slim pickings.  All the easy crab apples are gone and now all that is left are the ones at the very ends of the branches.  Cedar waxwings are acrobatic in their ability to hang upside down at the end of a bobbing branch to get that last sweet morsel. I went out to fill the bird feeders and standing there waiting for me are four turkeys.  They graciously stand aside so I can hang up the black sunflower seeds and peanuts. As I raise my arm to lift the bird feeder to to the hook a black capped chickadee touches my ear with it's right wing and lands on the feeder.  Geez Louise!  Hungry much? The weather is cold enough to put suet out again. All the woodpeckers were waiting. Hairy, downy, red bellied, pileated and Northern flicker return. I put another suet by my mailbox so my postal carrier can enjoy them too.  The wood peckers find the new suet location within a few days.  Someone ran over a possum at the end of my block. I come home Saturday night at dusk to see a red tailed hawk standing on my road having a possum burger. I come to a stop in my yellow car and gawk in awe as the hawk flies up with entrails trailing out of it's beak.  I walk my property and decide which plants I want to kill and which ones I want to nuture.  Buck thorn!  You are going down.  Poison Ivy?  You are going down! Goldenrod?  You can stay. Big blue stem? I love you so much I am going to come out here and burn you. Amur maple? I just don't know how to quit you. You are so pretty but you are spreading all over and I don't like that. Fall is difficult but not as difficult as the transition from youth to senior citizen. Peaches, once so delicious, taste terrible and apples are good again. The stores are full of pumpkin spice.  The decorations come and go so fast I don't know which holiday is next. I will transition with as much grace as possible.  Should I put snow tires on my car?  Oh, wait. Never mind.  Snow tires were important in the 1970's. Ironically that was when I could not afford any tires much less snow tires.  I remember one year my mother made ornaments for the tree out of milk weed pods. She carefully spray painted the milk weed pods with silver paint and lined the inside with red velvet. Then she glued tiny angelic figures inside.  The tiny white angels looked so pretty against the red velvet. This was a very long time ago; long before she transitioned to the "pagan" holiday tree of only bears. I find it comforting to know that what seems important today may not be important tomorrow.

A Ticking Time Bomb In My Pantry

My first attempt at making sauerkraut was a complete failure.  My second attempt at making sauerkraut was a success. I ate most of it myself and gave some away but it is all gone. So this time I thought I would try it again with a red cabbage.  I used the same recipe except no kohlrabi this time and a red cabbage instead of a green cabbage. The red cabbage was bigger than the green and it filled up my glass flip top container to the top. I took a couple cups of red cabbage back out before I put it in the pantry and covered it with a towel. I peeked the next day and saw the towel was blue. Hold the phone.  That towel with owls on it was white. How did it turn blue? I see the cabbage was fermenting much faster than the first batch. I opened the lid. Bright magenta fluid spewed out all over everything.  I rush the red mess to the kitchen sink. I clean up the red stains as best I can. I set the mixture back in a deeper bowl this time and cover it up with an older kitchen towel. I have washed that kitchen towel twice now but I still see a blue stain. During the last batch of fermenting sauerkraut I opened the lid once a week.  This batch I open the lid every day to burp the sauerkraut and I put it in the kitchen sink before I open the lid. I do not need to be stained twice to learn my lesson. Every day now I open my pantry door with trepidation. I am afraid my kitchen towel will turn blue! How can a red cabbage stain blue?  Isn't red a primary color? This batch of sauerkraut, if it turns out to be edible, is going to work some powerful fermentation magic on my belly!

Deer Hunting Opener

I caught one! This dear deer must be able to read my mind and intuit my stand on gun control.

Afternoon Commute

Last night after work I ran a few errands and spent a few minutes at the gym. I wanted to get home before dark so I could check on my chickens without a flashlight. I was trying to relax and get out of work mode. I have a million options on which route to take home. I can take the highway or the back roads. Every way home has advantages and disadvantages. I know the roads are busy. I know I will wait for something. I can wait for kids to get off a school bus. I can wait for a 120 box car train to roll by. I can avoid waiting for the train by taking another road but then I will wait for traffic. One obstacle I face every work day is the Rum River. I have to cross the Rum unless I go the long way and cross the Mississippi twice. Last night I idled in my car above the Rum River for many minutes. I doubt it was five minutes I was in one place on Bunker Lake Boulevard but it felt like five minutes.  My mind wandered. I glanced to my right. Exploring the western bank of the Rum River were Mr. and Mrs. Trumpeter Swan with their cygnet offspring. As they paddled upstream they clung close to shore and stuck their heads in the water here and there. The trio of beautiful white swans reminded me of angels. I wondered what they were talking about for surely they were communicating to each other. Maybe they were debating whether to stay in Minnesota for the winter or migrate south. Maybe they were trying to decide what to have for supper. Maybe the parents were giving the cygnet life lessons about the dangers of human beings. Traffic moved forward and so did I. I rolled ahead 20 feet and came to a stop again. I was still above the Rum River. Now I was above a backwater area of the  Rum that is part of a park in the city of Ramsey. I thought I saw three plastic bags in the backwater close to the cattails. Then I thought how strange it was that there were three very large plastic bags in the same spot.One of the plastic bags moved and a swan neck emerged. Then I realized here were three more Trumpeter swans having a snack. I was looking at the south end of three Trumpeters who were facing north with their heads under water.  Again it was a pair of adults with a cygnet. Wow. How lucky am I that I get to see six angelic Trumpeter swans! These are the largest birds in North America. I must have done something good today to deserve this sighting of six Trumpeter swans on this day on this bridge at this moment in time. Traffic moved ahead.  I drove home.  All thoughts of work had left my mind.

Most Annoying Things Said To Me Lately

• 1. You should have known that. (Well, forgive me for living, Geez Louise)
• 2. You already told me that. (So put me in a memory care unit asap).
• 3. I worry about you. (Worry about yourself for Pete's sake!)
• 4. Where is that idea coming from? (From me!  I am a genius!)
• 5. Why did s(he) say that? (Do I look like a mind reader?)
• 6. Don't say Polack in Poland (Sign me up for sensitivity training again).
• Everything in parentheses was filtered and not said aloud but now I am rethinking the third one.  Maybe the third one isn't annoying.  Maybe the third one is a sign that someone cares about me. Maybe I am an important person to someone close to me.