A few days ago I was up at the mailbox (which is a half mile from our house) and saw our neighbor slowly walking across her lawn, intently looking down. Figuring she must have dropped something I walked over to offer help. She showed me what she had in the paper bag in her hand. Morels! And some nice ones at that, right in their lawn. Now we've only found morels on our property a few times and that was many decades ago, barely remembered. But then we've never searched for them either. Inspired by our neighbor's find I walked back home, slowly, looking carefully down and around as I went, getting distracted by any number of interesting things. But I persevered and wandered around here and there on the homestead where it seemed morels might be. Didn't find any, but it was a nice wander.

A few days later I was in the garden on hands and knees weeding a path particularly well endowed with such things, intent in the job and whatever was in my mind, getting towards the end. Sitting back on my heels and looking ahead I saw, to my great surprise, just a few feet away, a beautiful specimen of a morel, beautifully positioned in front of the big green leaves of the rhubarb as if for a photo shoot. Well, really! I stared at it for some moments, went closer and kneeled down - was it really? Yep, that was one nice morel. I had to laugh, then went to get Steve.

After all these years, right there in the garden. Well, they do say (and we do agree) that what is in your mind becomes in your life, and morels had certainly been in my mind. When Steve came out he glanced down near his feet and there close by on the south side of the rhubarb was another morel, smaller but certainly edible size. Later I discovered a still smaller one on the other side of the patch, nestled in the grass. Why by the rhubarb? Maybe for no particular reason but it might be because I often mulch the rhubarb with leaves in the fall. I shall certainly continue that practice.

So we had morels in our dinner. They sort of got lost in the shuffle since there weren't many of them, and since I'm not real fond of the texture of mushrooms I'd cut them up. But they added their bit of flavor and nutrition, and the fun of discovering them on this magical place where we live. 

It's been a particularly cloudy November heading into December. Though colder than usual the lack of sun isn't unusual for this time of year. We get rather excited and instantly cheerful when the rare sun does show, as it did for a good ten minutes today! Not only for spirits but also for that fully appreciated solar boost to our batteries. We take the days, and weather, as it comes without complaint; happy to have some sun, happy to have some snow (even if it's only about 4" thus far), happy to be living here. I like winter. But when I came across this photo from a beautiful August day this summer I found myself gazing at it overlong, melting into the feeling of that green warmth. Steve was, of course, warmer than I was that day as he was doing the work while I stood back and appreciated what he was doing. Mostly the garden and orchard are my domain but he gets involved for special projects, like this one.

Several years ago I decided there had to be an easier way to keep the surrounding vegetation out of the garden beds. We'd tried many things over the years - mulch, carpeting, tilling, hoeing - all OK but too temporary and not particularly satisfying. I wondered about concrete pavers. We checked what was available in the simple and inexpensive line and decided to try it. Steve agreed to the job (much neater than if I'd have done it) and did the west, east and half the south borders of the 50' x 70' garden last year. It worked well and I liked it. For sure some grass roots do find their way under but not many. I was a bit afraid it might look too formal for my very 'down to earth' garden/orchard but it would take more than a neat line of pavers to make this area formal. They fit in surprisingly well. Most important, I no longer feel like I'm fighting vegetation. My garden is a wonderfully peaceful area full of joy. I like it that way and the pavers are helping.

Our world is full of magic and magical moments which we don't always notice, but sometimes they are so right in front of you that you can't miss them. This was one such. A few weeks ago we saw that a Monarch chrysalis had appeared on the overhead metal evestrough right over our front door. So beautiful and delicate looking. The main door swings in which was fine, but the screen door brushed the chrysalis as it opened setting the pretty green decoration gently swinging. So off came the screen door.

We didn't know how long it would take for the butterfly to emerge but chose not to 'look it up', just enjoy it. The last days we'd noticed the chrysalis darkening so knew something would be happening soon. I was concerned that there wasn't anything near by for the emerged butterfly to grab, if it indeed needed anything. Maybe not, but I put up a small branch just in case.

When I stepped outside before breakfast today I saw an oval spot of monarch wing color and pattern on the side of the chrysalis. Today was the magical day! After breakfast I carefully opened the door to find the fully emerged beautiful butterfly holding onto its thin (but strong!) empty case. Wow!! It was a cloudy and windy day. I'd often watched butterflies in the garden sitting on a plant in the sun slowly working their new wings but there was no sun today. Maybe later. But it wasn't time to work those wings yet. Thankfully it was warm.

Conversations with other gardeners tend often to veer at some point towards the 'wildlife bandits and outlaws' -- those creatures whose desire and search for a good meal (or maybe just a good time!) are often in conflict with the gardener's own desires for a good harvest. Over the years I've come to terms with all the varied wildlife we share this part of the world with, and generally enjoy them (a good fence helps!). They get some of ours, we get some of theirs, and overall it's a peaceful co-existence. But this year was a bit more of a challenge, thanks to the over-abundance (in our opinion) of voles. When the snow melted this spring we had the most amazing network of runs in the grass that I've ever seen (or ever hope to see again!). And I understood why we had a Barred Owl move in and stay around all winter. It saw it often in the garden and orchard. I thought it was because of the logging around us. But I'm pretty sure now that it was because of the great food supply.

Thankfully, most of my trees and bushes had hardware cloth barriers so my losses due to vole damage wasn't as bad as it could have been, and many things have recovered/regrown over the summer. The wild shrubs, trees, brambles - anything that could be chewed and eaten - had a great deal of 'thinning out', too. I bought more hardware cloth and set in to make sure ALL of my plantings are protected for this winter. I wasn't concerned about summer months because the voles pretty much are eating grass and such, not bark.

But then about every time I went out to the compost pile I had a vole or two run in or out of it, almost across my feet. That was just going too far. It was obvious they had set up a vole housing complex in my compost pile. So I got out some wooden mouse live traps Steve had made many years ago, and started catching voles - one almost every morning, and I'd take what became a routine walk to a far section of our property and release them. I certainly didn't mind the walk, but after several months the three traps (made for indoor use) were looking pretty rough, and I was getting tired of transporting voles (and cleaning the traps). Plus they were eating my red ripe peppers and cherry tomatoes. It was time to get serious about clearing this community out. I knew I wouldn't get all voles out of the garden/orchard area (there are plenty of fields around for new ones to move in from) but I needed to get this population down. So soon I had 6 new purchased plastic vole/mouse live traps in place, baited with the the best (well, cheapest) peanut butter. I was ready.

First morning - no voles. Second morning - no voles. Third, fourth. Well this was irritating. I supposed I could have gotten them all, though somehow I didn't think so. Maybe the didn't like the peanut butter. Maybe they didn't like the traps. Then the fifth day I was making my rounds checking the traps and there in the middle of the path, near one of the traps was a small scat. Mmmm. Could it be? I came in, looked up in our "Animal Tracks" book (which includes scat drawings), and yep, there it was -- a weasel. A weasel had moved in and cleared out the voles. This wasn't too much of a surprise - there had been weasel tracks this past winter by the compost pile (along with owl wing prints). It had simply come back for some more good eating. I hope it sticks around this winter.

Life is so wonderfully full, especially in the summer! There is so much going on to share with you and so little time to do the sharing. I know we'll catch up come winter and I expect your lives are equally full so just a few photos and words to let you know we're still here and enjoying the abundance of summer. Food certainly, and the garden is feeding us very well! But there is so much more.

Populations rise and fall naturally with the years and usually adjust themselves without any attention from us but we do tend to mostly notice the extremes of the peaks and valleys. Here on the homestead this past year has been a record high for voles (and I'm sincerely hoping they are on the downswing now -- at least in the garden and orchard. But I'm sure there are those who are happy with the abundance, such as the resident Barred owl, weasel, coyotes, fox, and our own LilliB.) Equally noticeable has been the unusually low population of flying insects, which means a low population of birds who depend on those insects for food. We miss having so many birds -- but we haven't missed AT ALL the usual abundance of black flys and mosquitoes. We do have birds, just not as many. Some, like the trees swallows, simply came, checked things out, and went elsewhere where the food was more plentiful (I'm guessing), though they stayed around long enough to harass the bluebirds for awhile. Some just didn't show up, like the sparrows and juncoes. Others it seems we have just one family instead of several families - robins, bluebirds, hummingbirds, gold finches, wrens, chickadees, indigo buntings, catbirds, cedar waxwings, and the hard working friendly co-gardeners Chipping Sparrows. And others. Life wouldn't be much without the birds. I don't even mind sharing some fruit with them (well, within reason!) (my reason, of course, not theirs).

But the other big absence has been pollinators -- the many kinds of bees, wasps, hornets, others. And butterflies, too. Since their numbers are so down it's a special joy to see them busily supping at the variety of flowers this time of year. I'm happy that what I'm growing in the garden and orchard is popular, from dill flowers to catnip, each with their own admirers. And with much sharing between species, like the fritillary and bee on the echinacea. Now, personally, I think the Campfire Rose (above) is much more attractive and catches my eye every time I walk in the garden, but I don't often see insects on those flowers. While the very understated small hardly noticably flowered (but prolific and quickly overgrown!) catnip is always humming with many busy bumbles the moment the first flowers appear and is never without attendance. So I allow too many to grow in the garden, brush by carefully as it grows with abandon into the paths, and weed out the many progeny.

As in so many cases, I think there is some truth to the idea of rotating in some cases but it got repeated again and again until it became a hard rule for all with little questioning of why. It's been my experience that insects are very capable of moving from one row to another to get to their favorites! Nature only "rotates" occasionally and the trees, plants, bushes generally live a healthy life, building up their own balanced ecosystems and that is what I strive to imitate in my garden. There ARE times when I rotate, usually for convenience of fitting the pieces of my plantings together (I'm always changing something), sometimes for weed control (putting thickly mulched crops such as potatoes or tomatoes in a weedy spot to clean up that area), and occasionally for a problem such as root maggots in carrots. Though I'm not sure location matters as much as timing. My tomatoes the last few years have died rather early of blight (though the tomatoes also ripened early because of that so this may not be a "problem" in my very short season!) so I'm thinking of changing the tomato and bean plots. Maybe that will help.
    The one pest I consistently have is potato bugs, and blight, and after 30 years of growing potatoes, rotating and not, I have to say it makes not any difference. Some years there are a lot, and some years there are few with no reason that I can see (though I'm sure they understand it). This year I planted potatoes in the same spot and had the fewest potato bugs ever. Our neighbor (next 80 over) also planted in the same potato area and he had more potato bugs than he'd ever seen before. Gardening is ever changing even if one never changes what and where you plant.
    As always, I fall back on experiment and experience -- my own that is. Rules are never ever the same for all, but there are enough similarities that it makes sharing fun and gives one a place to start.

Potatoes can be dug to eat whenever they are a size you want to eat them. If you are  careful you can dig around with your hand to pull out a few of the larger ones and leave the smaller ones to continue growing, usually about the time the plant is flowering. For storage they are dug after frost in fall after the plants have died down and the skins on the potatoes have firmed up (can't be easily rubbed off).

Although you can buy "canned" horseradish sauce in the stores, none of the preserving books I've seen talk about canning it. Years ago, when I first grew and grated my own, I asked a long time homesteader and horseradish lover about canning it and he said you shouldn't because the heat would ruin the flavor. But it turns out it lasts a long time anyway without canning so that isn't a problem.
    In the fall I dig a bucketful of roots and store them in the root cellar (any place cool would do). Then I process a batch of sauce (which is mainly horseradish and vinegar) which fills four or five half-pints, and I keep the jars in the cool cellar (our equivalent of a refrigerator). That lasts us for 2 to 3 months. When we run out, I do another batch from the stored roots. I've never had any horseradish sauce spoil so I can say it will last at last 3 months in cool conditions. A friend stores his in the refrigerator. Neither of us have tried keeping it any longer. I do find that it mellows as it ages however (which I like!).
    I'm just ready to make the last batch from the stored roots which are starting to sprout but are still good. That will be the last I'll make until the fall harvest. You can dig the roots in the summer, too, but I prefer to leave them to grow until fall.

GARDEN SIZE -- My husband and I are selling our home in NH and looking for a few acres and a small house in Maine where we plan to raise as much of our food as possible. I have previously grown, canned and frozen food for winter consumption, but that was some many years ago and really wasn't enough to be considered self-sufficient. Is there a simple way to size a vegetable garden for two people other than actually trying to figure yield per plant, etc.,? If there is a general rule of thumb, i'd love to hear it. --Linda, moving from New Hampshire to Maine

I'm afraid I don't have any quick and easy way to plan the size of your garden. It so much depends on individual likes and dislikes, crops and varieties grown, weather, environment, etc. Our garden has changed many, many times over the years, adjusting and adapting to our changing interests, and I'm sure will continue to change as we do. We've progressed to eating direct as much as possible out of the garden, or out of the root cellar in the winter, which saves a lot of time. And I like that. Our meals change as the crops do. One of the biggest differences over the years in how much I needed to grow, or buy, was how much one or the other of us was home (or gone -- working out). I raise a lot of what we eat, but also buy grains and raisins and oil and such. And apples in the fall when our trees are on their off years. In the early years we bought more and now we buy less.

A garden seems to naturally grow as you do and you’ll learn what you like to eat and what you don’t and how much. But no matter how much you plan and organize nature does what nature does, and each year I find I have more of this, less of that. We adapt our eating to the harvest and make use of the Food Coop for big differences (such as the coons getting all the corn, or an unexpected summer freeze wiping out the tomatoes). The biggest help for me over the years has been a garden notebook and a food inventory notebook.

COMFREY FLOWERS, LEAVES -- Should I cut the flower stalks of my comfrey plants (which are growing very well!), and how can I use the leaves?   --Sandy

You don't have to cut the flowers off the plants -- they are quite hardy and you really don't have to pamper them at all. You can use the leaves for whatever you want to -- tea, animal feed, healing, mulch. It's a wonderfully versatile plant.

HEIRLOOM PEPPER VARIETIES

I only grew Vinedale a few years as I found another that did better in my garden (Georgescu -- a vigorous plant, large blocky yellow from NJ CA J), and I didn't maintain the Vinedale.   Meantime, I've tried a number of peppers since as I continually had some rot in the Geogescu's (but they did well other than that). I found two that were more reliable here -- Sunshine (large green variable bell and non-bell with a thinner wall, turns yellow-orange early) (IN BL S '00); and Red Belgium (earliest, thick walled, mild, light yellow non-bell, smaller plant, turns bright red) (MI FL J '00). Getting some rot in Sunshine as well, so I've decided to stick with Red Belgium. I also occasionally grow a hot pepper that came originally from Johnny's many years ago, since dropped -- Caliente Hot Pepper. You have reminded me how much I enjoy the "other part" -- experimenting with varieties, searching out the histories and stories behind them, and the sharing.