Tag: maine summer

Summer Harvest

~ Crystal Sands ~ Leave a comment

We are in the thick of summer harvest, and it is both wonderful and terrible. Mostly wonderful. Still, it makes for some long days in the garden or kitchen or both.

Today, I processed 12 quarts of blueberries. Some were frozen. Some were for jam. Some were for pie filling. It’s been a bumper crop for our blueberries, but we have just 8 bushes old enough to product, so we also visit a farm north of us and pick from their high bushes. The blueberries are giant this year. It has been fun to pick them, though the heat has taken a toll for sure. They are so yummy it’s worth it. Plus, the heat broke yesterday, so I am hoping to go pick one more time.

The green beans are also ready, and the raspberries are still going a little bit. We have put up 14 quarts of green beans so far, and more will have to be processed tomorrow afternoon when I get home from taking my son to music camp on the coast. Summer harvest makes for some late nights.

But I learned a long time ago that that can’t sleep on that garden. When things are ready, they are ready. If you want to eat from the garden all year, you have to be ready to process a lot of food in a short amount of time in the summer and fall.

Of course, I am so thankful that we have so much to harvest right now. Food is so expensive at the store. It is wonderful to have all of this food to help feed us all year. This year started out more than a little worrisome, and we lost some things. Overall, however, things are looking really good right now. We didn’t get many beets, and most of the cabbage rotted; still, we had a couple of each. And the onions and garlic look great. We just started eating the onions in our dinners.

The carrots are coming and look beautiful. The potatoes are doing well, though Ron has had to treat them for blight. Mainly, the tomatoes are gorgeous. Oh, how I hope they keep going! It looks like it might be a good year for them. Oh, and my three Sisters garden is coming along so beautifully. I’m going to need a long summer for everything to make it though. Ron says that’s the only way the melons and watermelons are going to make it–a late frost will be key.

You never know what might happen these days. Last year, we got our first frost mid-September, and then it got hot again. That was a bummer. But the year before last, we didn’t get our first frost until after halloween. That was nice but scary at the same time. Maybe we’ll get something in between this year.

Oh, and Mary Jane is hanging in there. She had a great day yesterday and even slept on the roost. Tonight, she didn’t make it up on the roost though. I saw her get into a nest box for bed. Last night, I was in awe that she was sleeping on the top roost, and then I saw she was leaning on someone. It was a small, brown chicken who was just sitting there patiently, allowing the giant that is Mary Jane to lean on her. I went back into the house to get the flashlight because I had to see what chicken was allowing this.

It was Bianca! That hen is the sweetest hen in the history of ever.

Random but Interesting Occurrences on the Farm

~ Crystal Sands ~ 4 Comments

The day before yesterday, I was cleaning the duck house in the afternoon when it just came over me to go check on Mary Jane. I literally stopped what I was doing, got up, and went to the chicken area. I couldn’t find Mary Jane anywhere after calling and calling for her, so in a panic, I went to the coop to find her in a nest box for some strange reason and in the middle of what looked like a heart attack or heat stroke.

I gave one quart of blueberries to our neighbor for her grandchildren to enjoy, but this is our haul from the farm yesterday. We put up 14 quarts of green beans and made smoothies out of the fresh berries last night. The eggs just keep coming, and I am so grateful.

Her mouth was open wide, and she was breathing hard–making terrible noises. I gently scooped her up and brought her outside of the coop to the shade and quickly got her some cool water and fresh berries. It took about an hour for her to completely calm down and be okay, but she was much better. Ron told me I surely saved her life, that she was likely about to die from a heat stroke. I have no idea how I knew to check on her, but I am so glad I did.

Interestingly (and this is going to sound like a wild tale for sure), last winter, when we had our struggles with rats and couldn’t figure out where they were coming into the coop and why they were doing such damage, I had a dream two nights in a row that I was seeing where the rats were coming from. I told Ron about it, and sure enough, we found where they were hiding. I also told Ron about the view I had during this dream.

“It was from the top roost on the left side of the coop, the corner spot,” I said.

“I would be interested in seeing who sleeps in that spot at night,” Ron said. I agreed. So the next night, I checked to see who was sleeping in that spot at that time. It was Mary Jane.

I don’t know how it is or how this works, but I have some kind of connection with that bird. She looks at me differently. Some of my chickens are simple. Some have the “lights on” in a different kind of way. With Mary Jane, the lights are on in a way that is almost haunting to me. I think she’s an empath.

For years, right before a chicken passes, she will hang out with Mary Jane. At first, I asked Mary Jane why hens died when she made friends with them, but then I realized that Mary Jane was being there for them at the end. Usually, I know exactly who is about to die in our flock, but Mary Jane has known at least one I didn’t know.

I don’t know what to make of that girl, but I am going to be an extra mess when she passes. She has had a great life though. I just fed her homemade blueberry pancake. When we kept her, I thought, as a meat bird, she might make it to two years old. She turned six on June 1.

In other interesting news, I planted a Three Sisters garden in the garden plot Ron made for me. I will have to write all about it soon, but I have been watching the green beans and how they reach for the corn. I wondered, at first, if they were going to reach the corn. But then I saw the outreach. This morning, I saw the connection. The green beans have latched on. Isn’t it cool that those beans found the corn?

Relatedly, Ron put strings along the sides of the cucumbers to give them a place to climb. Every year, they spread out wild and take up a ton of space. The cucumbers have not yet touched the string, but they are growing straight up and tall instead of spread out and wild. When Ron showed me, I was so surprised because they almost didn’t even look like cucumber plants. They sensed the strings and changed how they grew. Ron figured he would have to help the plants latch onto the string. I guess it turned out they could handle it themselves.

Yesterday, Ron and I both worked in the garden all day long. Summer harvest is in full swing, and we are putting up food diligently. I picked raspberries and then blueberries and then gave the blueberry bushes some water. Then, Ron and I sat down in the green beans and picked for nearly two hours. Those green beans are so generous–and so delicious. All that rain has served them well. Thankfully, we are having some sun now, and I guess it’s perfect green bean conditions because the green beans I grilled last night were so delicious I thought I was going to cry. I took the first bite and was like, “how?”

It was wicked hot out there picking all day in the garden. We have shade everywhere from all of the beautiful trees, but, for obvious reasons, there’s no shade in the garden. So I baked. I wore my hat and tried to adjust myself to avoid too much sun at one angle for too long, but it was a tough go for me. I am a bit of a heat wimp.

Toward the end, however, the breeze picked up. And there, sitting in the dirt with green beans all around me, I took off my hat and soaked in every breeze. A big one came one time. I could hear it coming before it arrived, and I raised my arms and let the cool breeze cover every bit of my soaked-with-sweat body that I could. When it was over, I said, “oh, that was a bit of heaven.”

Ron didn’t answer, but Rooster did. I could tell he agreed with me.

Strawberry Season 2023–or the Waiting Is the Hardest Part

~ Crystal Sands ~ 2 Comments

I took this picture exactly one year ago today. It was the first small batch of strawberries, and I was so excited because there were so many more berries nearly ripe and coming soon.

Strawberries are my favorite food in the world. As a child, all I wanted for my birthday was a strawberry cake. My great grandmother had strawberries in her in-town garden and would make strawberry jam, which I am still convinced, on homemade bread, is the best, most comforting food in the history of the world.

I love the strawberries.

This year, it feels like we are forever away from strawberry season still. It has been cold and gray and rainy, and everything in the garden feels stunted and slow. I have patience for the other things, like the radishes and beets. I am having a hard time waiting on the strawberries.

I just weeded the strawberry beds this morning and studied the state of things. The plants look great, and there are a ton of green berries. But they are all so green! It looks like it will be a couple of weeks before we have strawberries, and I am bummed about this wait. It’s all we can do though, I guess. Just wait and hope for sunshine.

Tom Petty said, “The waiting is the hardest part.” Those are wise words.

Rhubarb, Climate, and Fertility

~ Crystal Sands ~ Leave a comment

Day 9 of 21

I can’t believe Ruby is already on day 9. I had better get to the feed store and get some chick starter feed for her babies. They will be here before we know it. Of course, we only have three eggs developing, so I hope we have babies soon. Ruby is definitely devoted, so we should have at least a couple of babies hatch.

Ruby is doing well, though getting thinner. I did figure out that I can get her to eat cut-up grapes, which helps with her hydration. She’s so cute sitting in her dog crate, so focused. I’m excited for her to have babies.

I also cut up rhubarb for the first time today and made muffins. It’s so great to have rhubarb again. It’s been slower this year than in years past. I think because it’s been cooler. Everything is growing more slowly than in the past five years or so for sure, but I am very thankful for the cooler weather.

Last year, at the end of that miserable summer with all that heat and no rain, I told Ron it would sure be nice if we could get a break from all of this climate change and have just a summer every now and then that was more normal. I am hoping the universe said, “wish granted.” I mean, I hope so.

And I’ve been thinking all day about the poor fertility with our hatching eggs. It’s a bit of a surprise to me because I see Rooster and Dvorak being pretty busy out there. But I looked closely today to try to see if I could discern a little more about what is going on.

This is what I learned: Rooster is polite and old. Dvorak is fairly polite, which is fantastic for a young rooster. He’s really a great rooster overall and won’t bother the ladies too much if they tell him know. Every now and then, he gets determined, but overall, he doesn’t harass the hens. I am so grateful for him.

I also learned a bit more about the Salmon Faverolles. They are very quirky chickens. They are sweet but also aloof, like very unusually so for a chicken. In fact, I have never seen an aloof chicken (at least not to this level, as chickens are usually fairly high strung), but all four of the Faverolles are this way. I need to write more about them, as I have some stories. But the main thing I learned from candling these eggs and studying the flock today is that the Faverolles are not allowing Rooster or Dvorak to mate with them. That’s very interesting. It’s not usual at all.

When you just need some nature…

~ Crystal Sands ~ 2 Comments

Day 65 of 365

All this week, I have been taking our son to a small town on the coast of Maine for music camp. The little town is beautiful and so very coastal Maine. There are gift shops and little outdoor restaurants and a fantastic bakery. But it’s very busy because, of course, it’s peak tourist season here in Maine, and there’s a lot of traffic.

I decided this morning that, one way or another, I was walking down the road until I found some nature. I couldn’t believe how much I missed nature after just three days away from home.

So I started walking, and I walked and walked and walked. Every time I thought I found a spot on the water, I would see a “private property” sign. Sigh. This is the one thing I think I love least about Maine–the coast is very much owned by the very much wealthy. I lived in Oregon for six years, and I was spoiled by the coast there. It’s all public land. You can just walk up to the water any place you like.

But I learned a long time ago that, if you just keep looking, you can find a little bit of public land here in Maine. I made it about a mile and half when I saw it–a park with loads of beautiful flowers and a view of the water! There were flowers and butterflies everywhere. It was magnificent.

Then, I saw the water. I made my way to a bench overlooking the water, took my shoes off, put my feet in the grass, and just soaked it all in. I love going barefoot in the grass. I have such dirty feet all summer because I just have to walk around and have my feet touching the Earth.

I read that there is something to do this, that there really is some benefit to people, maybe some more than others, to connect directly to the Earth like that. I am definitely an empath and have no doubt that I am one of those people who needs feet on the Earth. I swear, the grass on my feet while I sat and looked out at the water felt like little bit of heaven.

I love Maine in the summer. It makes you work a little bit sometimes, but my goodness, it’s so worth it.

The Generosity of the Strawberry Plant

~ Crystal Sands ~ Leave a comment

Day 45 of 365

I have loved berries for as long as I can remember. I suppose everyone would say that, but berries to me are nostalgia and comfort and joy and beauty. Maybe everyone feels that way about berries?

For me, there’s something extra special about strawberries. Since I was little, they have forever been my favorite food in the world. My great grandmother had a strawberry patch–and she made jam and let me pick berries–and my world was always better at her house. Strawberry ice cream is my favorite ice cream. If I was really lucky, I would get a strawberry shortcake on my birthday. When I was 8 and then 9, I really wanted one of those Strawberry Shortcake dolls. Today, I am convinced I need a farm dress in strawberry print. There must be pockets, of course.

When Ron built raised beds for me to plant strawberries in, I did my research to find a great local berry. Ron was generous with the chicken compost, and our strawberry plants seem very happy in their beds. This year, however, they have outdone themselves. I was a little worried when I saw so many flowers pop up in the spring. I worried about berries being too small. I should not have worried. The berries are perfection. I mean, imagine the perfect strawberry–perfect in size, shape, texture, taste, and color–and that’s what our beds are full of this year. It feels like a miracle.

In fact, today, while picking strawberries for our farm shares, I was so overwhelmed by the beauty of these berries and my hopefulness at sharing them with others that I got a little teary.

Yesterday, we had some friends out to our little farmstead, and they have small children, two girls, who are very little and just fantastic. I think the oldest is about three years old. They came out to meet the baby chicks and pick strawberries. And I have to tell you that the the oldest is a person after my own heart. She seemed to love the chickens, and she really loves strawberries.

I told her she could eat the berries as she picked, as they are organic. We never spray anything, of course. I told her to just watch out for squirrel bites and to not eat those. She was definitely on the lookout for squirrel bites after that. Once she quit worrying about squirrel bites, that kiddo dove into those strawberries, and it made me so happy that I thought my heart was going to burst from the joy of it. I mean, what’s better than a kiddo eating organic strawberries with joyous gusto?

I ate some too. I think we all ate some. The sun was shining, the breeze was cool, and the strawberries were–as you know–perfect. We picked so many berries that I thought surely we had made a dent in them, but today, when Ron and I went outside to pick for the farm shares, it was like the strawberries decided to be extra generous from all of that joy yesterday. I am certain, just absolutely certain, that the strawberries felt all of our gratefulness yesterday. They must have.

And I’m fairly certain the strawberries decided to be extra generous in return.