Wednesday, April 9, 2014

Straw Bale tales...

When the Cowman and I lived up a canyon, I worked for a little local feedstore/garden center.  The owner thought it would be a good thing if I took care of the garden/nursery area as well as marketing feed for all manner of livestock, critters, birds and fish. Fine by me I said, (I'm not a fan of cleaning hamster cages, or bagging live rats for snake food) just give me a bit of leeway to do some demonstration gardens.
  I grew a trial straw bale garden at home, as we lived on a hard pan shelf, where the only way to dig a hole was with a stick of dynamite. Our bale garden provided us with all the veggies we wanted and then some, with less work, and less water than a traditional garden.


not my garden, not my picture

 Next, I put in a demonstration straw bale garden at the store.  It worked well as we had wheat or barley straw bales, T posts, fencing, and starts and/or seeds of most every veggie that would flourish in our zone. My customers loved it. Especially the elderly, wheel chair bound, kids, and those living in places that had no regular garden space or poor soil.  
One customer, a rather cranky little ol lady, who had been an avid gardener all her life, was moving from her home to a retirement facility.  She was not able to kneel or bend over easily, so I asked permission from the facility management to put a straw bale garden on her patio.  She planted veggies, herbs, and flowers in her bale (completely hiding the bale).  She loved her little bale garden and spent hours on her patio entertaining the other residents, and sharing fresh veggies.  The last time I saw her she was in the store happily planning her winter bale garden.

a Paris balcony straw bale garden

I had a wheelchair bound gentleman that put his bale garden in the strip of ground between driveways, and quickly became the go to neighborhood veggie man. He got a sense of purpose and pride out of repurposing what had been wasted space. It also helped him to reconnect with his neighbors.
 
The straw bale process I used was gleaned from a bunch of good articles*, and only slightly tweaked to fit our needs. 

My home garden was all straw bales for the four years I lived up the canyon on the rock.  After I moved to the bunkhouse at Marymine's I put one in there as well, and that time used flakes from broken bales of alfalfa hay for the path ways.  The alfalfa flakes kept the mud and weeds down between rows, and further improved the tilth of the soil. 
I enjoy straw bale gardening, and have successful grown most veggies. The only crop that didn't do well in my garden was sweet corn, even staked it was too top heavy. When space is available, I plant sweet corn in a square block. That way it saves me from hand pollinating.   Anyway, the farmers market has great sweet corn, cheaper than I can grow it. And I don't have to put the blowup GI Joe with a motion sensor squirt gun in the garden to keep the coons away...

Plant a seed...

I'm burn'n daylight planting in the garden of delights, like a wild blue eyed granny. A post on straw bale gardening in cowcamp is coming here soon. 

not my picture, not my garden...sigh


In the mean time, if you have a moment to spare and I hope you do... you can read LL's great post on Social Values...
HERE  

Monday, April 7, 2014

Smell the wonder...

It is an absolutely awesome morning. The air smells wonderful. Like bygone days on the water. A slight breeze, sunshine, and a smell like no other...



The Cowman's parents had a houseboat on Shasta when they were still going strong.  There are so many in the family that we had to take turns on it.  Nothing fancy just a place to get away from the summer heat of RB.

  Sometimes we took just adults, and sometimes the whole shoot'n match: kids, friends of kids, dogs, ski boats, boogie boards, and always lots of food and drink.


Getting the Cowman to take a break was never easy. The kids looked at him in amazement: to see him in cutoffs, wifebeater, with a bandana tied over his head driving the ski boat at full throttle. 

There were lots of pranks on the adults only trips, but I'm sure I was only the instigator in three fourths of them. One of the other cowmen eventually healed up from one, but "really" anyone who safety pins his shirt tail to his jockey shorts...

I loved to sleep on the roof top of the houseboat, no one else did, so I had it all to myself. With the stars for a roof, the lap of the water for a song, and the call of a loon for a wake up call. Quietly, so as not to wake the others, diving off the roof top to go for an early morning swim with a bar of Ivory (cause it floated). Sneaking back on board to set on top to dry off and listen to the lake, before starting breakfast for the crew. 
Here and now, a blessed beautiful day in RB, wish you could smell the wonder... 

Thursday, April 3, 2014

Face-Plant...

Yesterday was absolutely beautiful here. Sun out, cotton candy clouds drifting across a blue blue sky.  You could hear the grass growing, at least I think it was the grass, couldn't have been a running ol granny's thighs...



Today it's overcast, and a little chilly.  We are supposed to get back up into the 70's this weekend.  YeeHaw! Let the veggie planting begin. There are about 50 baby Japanese maples to be transplanted as well as some started cuttings to pot up.



***

Went by and picked up one of Dad's shotguns from the gunny hospital.  Smithy has tried everything he can think of to make it fire correctly, and  finally recommended sending it back to the manufacturer.  Got it home and Dad says "that damn thing never has shot right." Ok, that would have been nice to know before we spent a morning on the range with it.  I have a sneaking suspicion that Dad was trying to even up the playing field between the guys and I...

***
 
I purchased some new sneeks, and in my early morning excitement to get out the door and running in them, I forgot to corral the ol girls.  Damn, that is uncomfortable.  Try running with your arms across your chest.  Thankfully no one else was out at the same time, because if I had tried to wave I would have sure as shoot'n done a face-plant...

Tuesday, April 1, 2014

Slightly bent, not broken...

It has been storm'n here, and we are getting some much needed rain. Grass is growing, reservoirs are slowly filling, but the clay soil is too wet to plant the veggie garden. If it weren't clay I would be out there planting, cheap therapy...  

Willie and I have been running in the rain, which is fine by me, not so much by Willie.  He has turned into Dad's lap dog. I think the dog biscuit jar by Dad's chair, and scraps from Dad's dinner plate have something to do with it.  Dad has started calling him with... "how's My Dog doing?" and "I'm going to turn My Dog loose on the neighbors darn cats, right after we take a nap."


An early morning run helps clear out a lot of the stuff that has gone on before and since I got back from the girls trip to LV.  It was wonderful to have a few days with the girls, not so much to come back to another !@#$ storm, that again seems to be widely advertised as my fault.  There has been a huge contest going on with mother leading the pack, to see just how many family, friends of mother's, attorneys, and assorted others it's going to take to break me in little pieces. Thankfully the hospice nurse and social worker totally get it, so they  hugged me and wished me luck as they sprinted out the door.

I try to use a little common sense, so I've found that if it's raining too hard to run safely,  another source of mental health balance is to set on top the dog house (in the covered kennel) with a neat scotch and a cigar and listen to the rain...  
The pack seem to have forgotten that I was taught survival skills early on by my late MIL, as she knew I would need them. Bless her. 
I know there will again be sunshine.  Slightly bent, not broken...