Strawberry Thieves

I spent this morning picking strawberries in the sunshine listening to Van Morrison coming from the house. The berries have been more generous than they have been for years, and I am grateful. The turkeys are also grateful. We had to put up a tall fence around the strawberry beds to keep the turkeys out, but when I pick, I share. Every strawberry that has been bitten by one of our strawberry thieves goes straight to the turkeys. This is quite a lot, as the Cedar Waxwings who have discovered the strawberry beds have been quite busy. I think we are losing about 10 to 15 percent to those birds right now, but I’m okay with those numbers because the little thieves are beautiful creatures–plus our turkeys get the leftovers, which they love.

Everybody loves strawberries, and I love bonding with those turkeys over our shared love of strawberries. This summer, I have bonded deeply with the turkeys, and I hope to be able to write about Maggie and Athena as turkey mothers because I have learned so much from watching how they parent. Domesticated turkeys are considered bad parents, but they are not at all. It’s just different, more wild perhaps and less conducive to the infrastructure we built for chickens and ducks. They have their own ways, and they want to have their own ways, and if you are wise and want to keep turkeys, you do what you can to give them their own ways as much as you can. But you can’t go too far. You need boundaries. Turkeys will demand the moon of you if you let them. We had to learn the hard way that the turkeys couldn’t get on the deck where we sit for morning tea and coffee. Last year, we let them share the deck, and they were like gremlins. They wrecked the placed!

So I was outside picking my favorite berries, listening to music, sharing berries out of my hand with the turkeys, and feeling so thankful to have had the experience. It has been a busy week, and my health has been struggling to hold up against my long COVID symptoms. I needed a slow, beautiful morning. It was restorative.

And then I thought about why I was there. This morning, it was because of the Cedar Waxwings. I had other plans for this morning, but those beautiful little strawberry thieves changed my plans. I had to pick the berries before those birds ate too many.

We have had a bumper crop of strawberries this year. I have been picking and picking, and struggling a little bit eat, process, or give away all of them. When the harvest starts, it starts, and it can be a challenge to keep up with it.

On the jam front, I have been trying so hard to make strawberry jam without pectin. So we have a wide variety of jam-like substances that vary between strawberry syrup and jam that is just a tad too thin. It’s been a challenge, but all of my failures are delicious in different ways. Still, to make sure I had gifts for friends and family, I made one batch with pectin and may try to make one more. I have to say that the jam without pectin is far more delicious than with the pectin, even though the pectin jam is very, very, very good. There’s something different about making it in a jam pot without pectin though, and I really like the difference. If I get it figured out, I will let you know. Plus, we have eaten bowls and bowls full of fresh berries.

With this kind of abundance, it only makes sense to share with the Cedar Waxwings, even though I know they are the guilty party in terms of eating most of our blueberries and elderberries the last couple of years. But how can I deny those little stinkers some of the berries? I mean, it’s their nature, after all. They are literally wearing little bandit masks.

I am so curious about all birds that I looked up to see why Cedar Waxwings have little bandit masks. I wanted to know what the evolutionary benefit is for those little masks around their eyes. It surely isn’t just because they are thieves. I mean, that’s just too much irony.

It turns out there at two hypotheses about why Cedar Waxwings have those little masks. I don’t know which one is most reputable, but I have my own thoughts. One hypothesis is that the little masks help with sunlight in their eyes, but the other one has to do with the social nature of these birds. The hypothesis is that the little black masks help emphasize facial features which helps with communication between flock members.

It also turns out that these birds are highly social. One of the coolest things I learned is that they steal berries and share among flock members. I read that it’s pretty rare in birds and in the animal world in general to see food passing in a species. These birds are essentially little Robin Hoods. How fantastic is that?

Of course, fantastic as they, there is a limit to my willingness to share with them, I suppose. Since the strawberry beds have been discovered, things will escalate in the next day or two. One time I read to tie balloons over the bed and to draw angry eyes on the balloons. It did help a little, so I’ll be drawing angry eyes on balloons in the morning.

In the meantime, I am enjoying this restful day I had today. I hope, wherever you are, you get some strawberries this summer.

Sending love from Maine.

photo credit: New Public Library

Schrodinger’s Strawberries

I find myself pacing sometimes and thinking about the strawberry beds.

We haven’t uncovered them yet. It feels like it is so very much time to do so today, as it was 67 degrees, but we have a freeze coming in a few days. Ron says we will uncover them the day after. In the meantime, I have way too much anxiety over the strawberries.

Last year, after a fall planting the year before, the strawberries didn’t make it through the winter. Ron thinks he may have covered them too soon. I was devastated. Strawberries are one of my reasons for living. I am so scared he’s leaving them covered too long, but that freeze…

I know it seems dramatic, but last summer without strawberries was a heartbreak. You simply cannot find organic u-pick strawberries within an hour of where we live in Maine, and even the ones that are a couple of hours away are few and far between. We found an amazing farm outside of Belfast that had organic berries, but there was literally a line of people waiting for them to open on the few days they had berries available. We managed to get enough berries to make one small batch of strawberry jam, which I shared with people I love and then had one jar for myself. I told Ron if we wanted a farm product that might actually make some money, organic strawberries would be the way to go, but right now, I just want our three beds of berries to live and keep us supplied.

Since I finally managed to figure out sourdough bread, I have been longing for strawberry jam. To me, sourdough toast desperately needs strawberry jam. Thankfully, I found a lovely strawberry jam made in Maine from Stonewall Kitchen. It’s delicious but, of course, it’s not organic, which I prefer, especially for strawberries, because strawberries are notorious for hanging onto pesticide residue–it’s all those seeds.

So I am hopeful but scared about our strawberries this year–and doing a lot of pacing and thinking. I cannot go another year without strawberries. I have been so down about the world. I know you probably have been too, so we gotta have the little things like our strawberries.

I am afraid to go look because, if I go look and the plants are dead, well, I don’t know what I’m going to do. So, right now, the strawberries may be alive. Please cross your fingers for me. I’ll keep you posted!

And what do you have that keeps you going right now, that brings you a bit of joy?

Starting Over with a Little Sparkle

The first raspberries, the last strawberries, and other updates

Mary Jane made it to the raspberries for another year! I hoped she would this spring when I was thinning the branches. She sat with me for hours, looking hopeful for raspberries. I think raspberries might be her favorite–maybe even more than watermelon. This morning, when I picked raspberries for breakfast, I kept out a handful just for her. She gobbled them up with satisfaction. I can tell she surely knows how much I love her.

I am hopeful for the raspberries. They look really good this year, and we need a good year after our strawberries did not do so well. I don’t know if it was just a weird year or if our plants are about done. I think it’s the latter. We have had five great seasons with those plants. I read they should be replaced after three to five years, so I guess it’s time. I think we will try to replace them in the fall, so we can hopefully have berries again next summer. That’s a big task though. Hopefully, I will be up to it. And it wasn’t a terrible year for them. I still made two batches of jam and got five quarts frozen for the winter.

Things have been busy here on the farm this summer but not nearly as busy as usual. Ron has been slow and steady planting the garden and just finished planting the last of things this week. It’s the latest he’s ever finished planting, but COVID has take a toll on all of us for sure. And, with long COVID in mind, we have no music camps this summer for our son. He just rests a lot, sleeps a lot, and I can see that he tries to stay positive. It was hopeful that he started playing his cello again this week, though he has to pace himself and can’t play more than 15 minutes per day. Still, slow and steady, right?

I am less busy than usual with the chickens because we had no babies this year. It’s been hard. The babies always bring so much joy, so long COVID plus no baby chicks has equalled a bit of a tough summer. On the bright side, I have been working on a Swedish death cleanse (though I hope I am not dying anytime soon), and I have made amazing progress. My struggle is books though. How can I get rid of books? I have more work to do, but our home is feeling much better, much less cluttered.It’s very helpful to my mental state.

We have still have our son’s pet mouse, who requires a lot of attention because mice are social animals and need company. I have also learned that mice will eat pretty much as much as you give them, so our little mouse has grown a little chubby eating so many treats from the garden along with homemade bread. I knew we were in trouble the first time I gave him some homemade bread and a fresh strawberry on the same day. He was half asleep with the bread in his hand and the strawberry right next to him. I watched as he would wake up, take a few bites of each item, get a joyful look on his face, and go back to sleep. I also had no idea mice were SO expressive, but he is!

He has a wheel, but we are going to have to build a bigger space for him–and in the last two days, he’s just had his mouse food and lettuce. Poor baby!

I have also been writing, just not as much as I would like here in the blog. I am actually working on a book. It’s a collection of essays, some of which I am revising from old blog posts and some of which are new. I plan to call it Chicken Stories, and I hope it will be worthy of a read. We’ll see. I hope to have it finished by the end of December. I will take any and all advice as well as words of encouragement.

Tell me how you’re doing if you get a chance. How is your garden growing? How are your chickens? What are you learning this year? And do you know anything about raising a mouse?

In My Hands

Strawberry Season 2023–or the Waiting Is the Hardest Part

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.

On Being Rich

Day 50 of 365

Today feels like a milestone. I have been writing in this blog every single day for 50 days. Most days, I do not have time to write nearly as much as I would like. I have stories about sneaky chickens, special wild birds, and howling chipmunks, but I realize that summer is a tough time to be writing in a blog. There are baby chickens everywhere, and I somehow had two additional classes I wasn’t anticipating teaching land in my lap a few weeks ago. But, despite these obstacles, I have written something every day, and that counts, right?

Today was farm share day again. It’s normally on Thursdays, but the strawberries were so ripe that we decided we had better do an early farm share day this week. Plus, the sugar pod peas were ready, and we learned a long time ago that, when it’s hot, you have to move quickly on the sugar pod peas.

Today’s farm share included fresh strawberries and strawberry jam. Aren’t they beautiful?

I am marveling at our strawberries. It’s their second year of berries, and I can’t believe how generous these plants are being. It’s the chicken poop compost. Ron read years ago that it is the best fertilizer. I absolutely believe it.

I keep talking about how “rich” we are. We’re so rich we eat fresh strawberries for breakfast. We’re so rich, I made strawberry jam and still had berries left in the blow. We’re so rich, I have made smoothies with fresh strawberries with dinner three nights in a row!

I find it interesting that I measure wealth in strawberries. I also measure wealth in eggs. In December, I am poor, but by late February, I am so rich again! Right now, I am extra rich because we have strawberries AND eggs.

And the raspberries are coming, and the Oxheart carrots are getting bigger, and I am pretty sure the corn will surely be knee-high by the Fourth of July. I am feeling extra grateful of late. Things seem extra good. Even Kate’s baby is starting to thrive.

I am superstitious, so I am knocking on wood as I write these words.

The Generosity of the Strawberry Plant

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.

The Strawberries Are Coming

Day 37 of 365

Tonight, I am worn, just not as worn as my husband. Ron is expanding our little homestead and having to build a new fenced area for new chickens. He chops cedars, digs holes, and installs fencing all by himself. I don’t even know how he does it.

But when he’s doing that from dark to dark, I am doing all the other stuff. If you have ever lived on a farm or homestead, you know that “all the other stuff” is a lot.

But I have quick updates from life here on Sands End Farm:

  1. The baby Eastern Phoebes are still around! I saw them playing in the yard near the strawberries today. I am over the moon about this, but that empty nest is still tough to see.
  2. Today, when I was grading essays and trying to entertain my adopted brood at the same time, I discovered that my little Lavender Orpingtons, who are the sweetest birds I think I have ever seen, will sit on my arms while I am typing on my computer. They just ride along as I moved my hands from different keys. I have to get a picture of this soon.
  3. And the strawberries are coming. Strawberries are my favorite food in the history of ever. I will have to write more about them soon, but we had about a dozen ripe strawberries today, and the beds are fuller than I have ever seen them. I am hopeful!