A Collection and a Status Report

I've been sick with one of the worst colds I have ever had this past week. The days passed slowly. Within minutes in the garden I was so hot I could not see straight or even stay focused on the tasks before me. So I limited each visit to one specific chore, like just collecting japanese and flea beetles.

I walk around with a jar of soap and water and push the beetles into it where they drown. In a few days, their decomposing bodies produce a most unpleasant scent that works very well to keep other beetles away. I learned this trick when, on my first year of food gardening, I bought a japanese beetle trap that used sex pheromones to attract beetles to the bag and theoretically away from plants. But what actually happened was I had more beetles than ever on my plants, even though I located the bag far from the garden as the instructions stated. On the box of the japanese beetle trap it said to be sure to change the bag after it rained because the bodies would decompose, stink, and render the product useless. When I read that, I knew what to do. The smell of death repels the beetle better than the scent of sex attracts.

The drought seems to have given way to a pattern of daily afternoon showers. All manner of fungi have sprung up on the rotting logs and in the springy damp mosses of the forest. I've noticed how much better the garden does with real rain than it does with being watered with the sprinkler, no matter how thoroughly. I have a garden toad that lives under the log of the second row bed with the asparagus, although I could not find him today. I was glad when I discovered him as I have been worried when I had not found even one salamander this season, though I have seen many snakes swimming in the creek this summer.

Yesterday, I finally threw in the towel and went to the walk in clinic and got a shot of steroids and some antibiotics and some codeine laced cough syrup. Im a little better now, still very hoarse, but in a day or two will probably have the essential raspy voice for a good outing at the country music karaoke at Donald Rays Brother's Place (no joke, that is the name of the bar) up in Copperhill TN. I have accomplished very little this past week, and it makes me feel as if the world is passing me by. 

Easter has been broody and creating havoc within the flock. She will not allow any other hen into the nest and so who knows where the eggs are. If any eggs are laid in the nest, Easter sits on them and when I come to take them she screetches at me, puffs up like a turkey, and when I toss her down she comes over and gives me a good dose of the "flying foot". I take her and immerse her in the creek where only her head is above water and hold her down for about 5 minutes to drop her body temp. It works for a little while but sure enough I find her back in the coop on the nest. This has been going on for days, and I am over it. Easter is in jail now. A pen with no comforts whatsoever. no shavings at all. just newspaper laid flat and no way to cuddle up or nest. I am unmoved by her mournful peeps and trills, however, I am trying to locate some fertilized bantam eggs for her to hatch. She wants to be a mother so badly I am willing to give it a shot even though it is no small feat to travel with 4 hens and 2 Rhodesian Ridgebacks. I can't imagine adding one more creature to this equation

Speaking of Ridgebacks, It was a lucky break for me that a rat has taken up residence in my barn. I call the rat "the babysitter". I have been able to nap some with this cold without worrying about where the dogs are thanks to the babysitter. This rat keeps the dogs busy for hours, no exaggeration, at a time. Eventually I will have to trap and kill this poor creature, but I swear, I have actually become fond of him. Its funny as hell to watch him toy with the dogs. I made a little video of it -very hard to do because I have to try and shoot while using a long piece of trim to motivate the rat. The sound of the dogs voices in slo-mo make me laugh every time. I need to sample those sound effects for future video work.

Thanks to everyone for your support regarding the Frida Kahlo challenge sponsored by Bohemia Beer. I did not win a prize, but I did receive an email yesterday inquiring about buying the painting for the Bohemia collection. I have given them a price and we shall see. If they agree, the day I spent on that project will have been well worth it.

As Per Trolls request in comments, here are the winners of the Frida Kahlo Challenge:

first place: Ernesto Cammacho

second place: Elizabeth Ortiz

third place: Jose Luis Padilla

you can see all the entries here

Vera and Edith: My Quality Control Team

the harshest of springs

no one will want to visit this page if things continue on as they have. I made this piece today of a bird with her heart bleeding surrounded by assorted supple greens. that bird is me. i took the little painting and pinned it to a green velvet backing inside of a mexican tin nicho. the painting is surrounded with twigs and feathers....including the feathers of one Mean Dovey Cooledge.

first was the bad news on Trout's eyes and now i have lost my other elder stateswoman of a hen. the feathers in the shrine are those i had saved long ago from when i made the "creatura" stick crosses. there were no feathers to be found yesterday. i let the chicks out of their pens and Dovey made a bee line for the basement where i have a laying box for her. i checked on her and found an egg but no sign of Dovey. i wasnt too worried she was used to picking around down there or heading back to the yard.

i was watching closely the new chicks -less experienced with the dangers than Dovey, they stayed with me at all times. Dovey was used to ranging on to wherever she wanted, just like Red did. late afternoon became early evening and i hadn't seen her so i started looking in all the familiar places. nothing. the girl in the garage apartment helped me. we covered my yard and across the street, next door -two doors, three doors down...in sheds, cars, the house. i called her and she always answered if she could hear me. dread set in and deepened with the color of sky.

(here is Dovey enjoying a dry moment last week)

i never heard a thing. night came and she never returned. her perch on top of V's basement TV stood silent and without its crowning glory of a hen who annoyed him with her persistence to perch there. he made a little cardboard platform for her. it was lined with fresh newspaper waiting for her to decorate it with fertilizer. i made a mix of laying crumbles and oyster shells to try and help her eggs survive; their shells were thin like paper and broke when you picked then up. The laying mix sat in her dish untouched.Looking at the empty space i reflected on how V has always accommodated the chickens, God love him, and when i called him this morning he was crushed to learn she was gone. as was my friend in the garage apartment. she wept as she folded her clothes last night-the basement is where the chickens are at night - because it is safer than out in the pens.

so much for me staying home from California to watch over the pets.

Hawks flew over the yard most of the morning. i noticed there was a young hawk with the pair. I have no way of knowing how Dovey disappeared. its worse than when we lost Red -at least we knew what happened. there is no way not to blame myself. and yet i cannot be everywhere at once or have a creature confined in a cage at all times. both Red and Dovey had 5 years with us.

now we are left with Easter and "Dusty" because that hen, formerly named "olivia", is a rooster. (this photo is from their first day out in the field - running wild)

Dovey thought she was the king pin of the yard. the whole household really. and her little personality began to shine without Red. It occurred to us that perhaps we had always thought Red was the sweeter hen and never gave Dovey a chance to show us how engaged she could be. Maybe she was "mean" because we always favored Red. you'd think with that little bitty head and the little bitty brain inside it i am surely projecting meaning where it doesnt exist; but i tell you these chickens have fully developed personalities complete with bad and good moods.

i took the photo above last week at the cabin. she had started wanting to be inside with everybody. i came in and caught her up on my bed -no this wasnt a staged photo. i think she wanted to be treated as an equal member in the family. i wish she could know that she will surely be missed like an equal member of the family. i dreamed i found her under the bed and was so happy. when i woke up from the dream, my heart was broken freshly as if it was brand new news.

the days have been marked with violent stormy afternoons and so much rain that i havent been able to work on my soil at all. no seeds are in the ground and i am getting a very late start. i almost dont have the heart for it now. it just doesnt seem idyllic as it did when i imagined having Dovey hanging out with me -and before i learned Trouts sighted days could be shortened. the wildflowers i planted were coming up but standing in puddles of water. limbs from the giant virginia pines littered the field and tender trillium were torn by hail.

tomorrow i will detail the house so it will be very nice for V to return to. and then i will head out to Chickory once again with Trout and the young pullet and cockerel. there is no option but to look forward with faith in goodness and beauty to come. because the sorrows are always with us. our job is to savor the little victories of light and grace; the gift of a million greens, fragrant honeysuckle on a cool wind and the next deep breath of life.

country life

What's better than an over-priced hour of pilates? how about a morning of picking up hundreds of sticks and hauling them out to the fire pit? how about when the wind is a bit more forceful than you thought and your girl scout teepee structure goes up in flames and gets BIG and HOT very quicky.


Then comes the aerobic part of the workout...the part where you frantically run around putting the little fires out with the "stomppy wardance of terror". bonus move: running to fill milk jugs with water to stop the march of grass fires hopping outside of the fire ring.


not to mention the adrenalin melt down.
talk about working the "core"!

surely abject mortal fear is a few hundred mac and cheese calories gone...and, burning off my eyebrows, i may have lost a gram or two of weight there as well.
looks like i get to lay around on the porch this afternoon.


Ah, the cool waterfall. Uploaded especially for the Red Mantissa, the little doe of Vancouver. Its on the far side of my property line. I really wanted to win the lotto so i could buy the other side. That way, no one could ever build on it. Right now i cannot see or hear any other human being. and i want to keep it that way. selfish, i know.

there's a little fish trap at the end of these falls, which doubles as a swimming hole where even full grown adults can go underwater and dogs get to paddle. one must be careful not to anger the little crayfish or disturb the mudpuppies. Oh. you don't know mudpuppies? Well, they are rather large, thick and heavy dirt-gray water lizards with red lungs on the outside of their bodies. very primitive looking. once i was in the "hole" and something "significant" slimed up against my arm. i turned just in time to see two mudpuppies engaged in combat, biting each other as they flowed past. my shrieks echoed throughout the cohuttas, and someone might have noticed and investigated, 'cept there seems to be a lot of screaming out here.


for tomorrow's sunday brunch there will be fresh eggs thanks to Red and Dovey. here they are in their chicken church. you cant hardly see Red, she's laying. I gave them an old blueberry box filled with shredded newspaper to nest in. the chicks are small, so to see the size of their eggs is impressive. and, it explains the racket they make before and during the laying.

by day, the chicks eat grubs, earthworms, termites and a scratch mix of corn, millet and sunflower. i like to take them out to a new area and turn over rotting logs to expose other kinds of insects and small larvae. they make the coolest sounds when they are excited about what they find. in the evening i give the hens peanut butter and salmon. sometimes vermicelli. peaches. soft cheese. rice. whatever.

now that the trees are filling the satellite is getting sketchy. so i was productive and made a non objective painting in photoshop. reproduced as a real large canvas, it would be a showstopper.


tomorrow: 3rd sunday of Lent. intention: hiking the trail to the swinging bridge over the Toccoa river.