Moving from garden to firewood

My gardening season is over. There is one lone basil plant in the garden and I'm toying with the idea of putting it in the greenhouse to see how long it will go. The begonias will stay in their planters until a hard frost gets them. I'm content to let them go because the mother plants will tucked away all nice and cozy in the den this winter with a grow light. 

The Greenstalk has been moved to its new location by the patio. The daylilies have been repotted and the big pots are ready for next year. The year #1 buckets have new soil and are in the greenhouse waiting for spring. 

My best tip for anyone planning a container garden - woven ground cover from Grower's Solutions. It held up to foot traffic, stopped the grass and weeds, and is easy to keep tidy. I used the leaf blower to keep it free of debris. 

I feel really good about the 2023 season. I not only enjoyed having the garden and watching it grow and produce, but I gained more knowledge. My garden will never feed us for an entire year, but it puts a few fresh things on the table with some left over to preserve.  

Now it is time to move from gardening season to firewood season. I have a good supply of firewood for this year, and what we split now will be for the 2024-25 winter, and possibly beyond. I have a large maple that I've contracted with a service to take down, and an equally large cherry that I could drop but my cousin says he will do the honors. 

Before we get really into it, there is a small pile of cherry and oak to split and stacked that can be burned toward the end of this year if needed. Using the bucket on the John Deere, I'll bring some poplar up to the house and clear a spot to begin stacking for next year. We worked a lot harder before we got the tractor. 

Life in the country moves with the seasons. There's comfort in being in tune with nature. I may not have the biggest house or drive a brand-new car (by choice, mind you), but I am content to be where I am with what I have. And not only am I content, I am generally happy with my life and my country lifestyle. 

Yes, there is work to do. Daylight, I'm waiting on you!

The Lady of The Hideaway

Holly Tree Manor, The Hideaway, firewood, gardening, rural living, being content, John Deere, country lifestyle, a writer's life, nature, cherry trees, grow bags, tomatoes, peppers, tree service

"The weak winter sun"

The readers among us recognize the phrase, "The weak winter sun...."  It's a descriptive phrase often used because we all have an image of a winter day without a lot of sunshine. We all can relate to it. 

There's a winter storm approaching our area. Tonight, possibly around two to three hours after midnight, the forecasters say we'll get the wintery mix. This will be the first time since I retired I'll be able to avoid icy roads without any guilt. 

The weak winter sun isn't something I complain about. In winter, the earth needs to rest. The trees rest, as do the pines even though they are green. Bushes and shrubs, rest. The holly trees have set berries and the small birds carry those seeds far and wide to sprout in the spring in new places. 

The grass isn't resting yet, preferring the colder temps to rebuild its root system without competition from clover, dandelions, and the like. I know that below the ground, the daffodils and the crocus are preparing. 

I spent some time outside today, reveling in the cold and observing how the air slowly filled with moisture from the approaching storm. By late afternoon the clouds arrived to form a screen between me and the sun. I watched the changes from my perch on my sunroom porch until finally chilled I stepped back inside. I'd hoped to see deer in the meadow, but they were absent. 

Being home, and being able to be a living breathing participant with all the nature around me is a blessing. The weak winter sun is a blessing to the earth, and to me. Spring will come soon enough, but I'm joyful that I was able to see the world just as it is today, and marvel. 

The Lady of Holly Tree Manor (The Hideaway)

Holly Tree Manor, The Hideaway, winter sun, nature, winter storms, four seasons, deer, a writer's life, simple country pleasures, rural living, country lifestyle, clouds, road conditions

Tomato surprise!

I love living on the mountain and having nature all around me. I learn something every day, even more so now that I'm retired and home more.  

This past August, we had a bit of a heat wave. Our temps got up into the 90sF every day for about two weeks. It's not unusual for us to have 90F days, so don't go all climate change on me. But it is rare for us to have a long stretch like that. The last time it happened was back around 1992/93. 

But I digress...

Due to the heat, my tomatoes stopped putting out new flowers which meant no new tomatoes. I allowed what fruit was on the vines to mature, and then I cut off the plant and moved the grow bucket to the winter storage area. I had a good crop so it was fine with me. When you garden, you have to take a lot of things as they come. You can't fight it.

Yesterday, I noticed that several of the tomato plants had sent up new stalks. That was unexpected! There's not time enough for them to set new flowers and produce fruit, but it's a fascinating development. I'm going to move one bucket into the greenhouse just to see what happens. It's an experiment, a test, of both plant and greenhouse. It should be interesting - and a lot of fun! 

Here's the link to a short video:   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T8eQhWIdOlU 

The Lady of Holly Tree Manor (The Hideaway)

Holly Tree Manor, The Hideaway, tomato plants, nature, country living, gardening, greenhouse, rural lifestyle, green peppers, container garden, grow buckets

Bittersweet along the creek

Almost at the top of the mountain above the manor is a spring known locally as Joshua Spring. Twenty years ago, I could go to the spring and bring home a gallon of pure water. Then some idiot who likely still doesn't realize just how stupid they are dumped trash at the entrance to the spring. The State barricaded the lane to the spring and that was that for most folks who went there for pure water. 

We're luckier than some. Joshua Spring puts out enough water to form a creek that comes down the mountain to join with the creek running through the family property. I've occasionally stepped down into the Joshua Spring creek for a drink of that special water. I've also entertained ideas of creating a splashing spot for Deuce but that hasn't happened yet. Maybe soon. 

Bittersweet bushes and vines grow in abundance on the far side of the little creek. I don't know much about the plant except that the lovely red and orange berries are poisonous if eaten. Lots of autumn flower arrangements and wreaths contain bittersweet, but handling the dried berries is pretty harmless. 

On a recent walk, we noted the abundance of bittersweet berries this year. Our weather this summer was reminiscent of the summers when we were younger and we are aware of the sensitivity of plants to the weather. We think it's because the airplanes weren't flying as much due to the Covid-19 pandemic. I'm sure the experts would argue that, but there it is. I believe it, but then again, I dislike airplanes, especially the ones that fly over my corner of the world and drop pollution on my trees. 

It's been many years since a bittersweet wreath has graced my front door. My mother made the wreath I had, but time and sun damage eventually claimed it. Perhaps after the leaves have dropped I'll be brave and cross the creek, climb the rocky bank, and harvest just enough berries to make a new wreath. It will last for many, many years, and be a connection to my mother who got her berries from the banks of Joshua Creek. 

The Lady of Holly Tree Manor