CSI: Backyard

I was sitting on my back porch sipping a midori sour and reading an Elizabeth Peters novel, as one does on a Friday evening, when I was pulled out of 19th century Egypt back into my real world by a ruckus at the back of the driveway. A loud buzzing sound and the frantic flapping of red wings caught my attention. It took a minute for my eyes to change focus from my e-reader to the outdoors (the over-40 set will understand the struggle) but, when they did, I clearly saw that a cardinal had triumphed over some sort of insect. 

By the sound, I guessed it was a cicada. I haven't seen any yet this season, despite the major hatch-out that apparently has happened in other parts of the country. I wanted to know for sure but didn't want to disturb the feasting. After all, it sounded like it had taken some effort for the cardinal to slaughter the bug. I would have hated to scare him off his meal. Once he finished, however, I visited the scene of the crime looking for clues.

The first thing I saw was a shiny wing.

It was smaller than what I usually associate with cicadas but there are different sized cicadas and the green made me think my guess had been correct. Closer inspection yielded more clues, though some went against my cicada theory. (I know you shouldn't go into an investigation with a set conclusion in mind but I'm not actually a forensic investigator of any kind so I don't care.) There was a moth's wing and what appeared to be the shell of some variety of beetle - they kind of felt like acrylic fingernails, so that was interesting.

Then my investigation took a darker turn with a pair of legs, some distance from each other.

I continued scanning the area and then...oh my...is that a face?

Well, that could have fallen off at any time. Maybe it wasn't from the most recent slaughter I had witnessed. But then...oh...oh dear...that's certainly part of an insect. And it's still...um... squishy. Ewwwwww.

Okay, enough CSI for me. A cardinal had thrashed a bug that may or may not have been the first cicada of the season. Case closed. The ant crew was already on the scene to clean everything up. The wing had actually disappeared by the time I finished examining the rest of the bits. Nature is a wondrous thing!

How to Make Your House Smell Amazing

Step 1: Plant a bunch of different herbs in your garden.

monarda

dill

basil

chives

parsley

Step 2: Harvest said herbs, load into a food dehydrator, and let them dry out for a day or so.

basil ready to dry

dehydrator loaded and ready to go

Step 3:Inhale deeply as you crush the dried leaves into pleasantly fragrant bits.

dry dill

dry parsley

Step 4: Pour dried herbs into labeled jars.

dried basil in a recycled/reused jar

the grand assortment

 Step 5: Enjoy!

bunny butt approved

Back When I Was a Creator of Fantasy

Many, many years ago, my father made me a Spanish hacienda-style dollhouse. At that time, miniatures were very popular and everyone in my family had either a dollhouse or a model train set. My grandmother's was a Swiss chalet. My sister's was southern-style with tall columns on the porch. My mom decorated shadow boxes, rather than a full dollhouse, with colonial-style room settings. My preteen self enjoyed the south-western aesthetic - earthy pastels, terracotta pottery, geometric rugs, bleached cow skulls - so the hacienda was perfect. I lovingly painted each room the perfect color and constructed a little kiva fireplace all by myself. I probably even made some furniture for it out of balsa wood, but I can't remember. At that age, I lost interest in things rather quickly. I gave up on furnishing the dollhouse and it sat untouched for I don't know how long. Then, one unremarkable day, I was struck by inspiration and the hacienda became a fantasy realm filled with fairies, gnomes, dark hooded figures, mermaids, and other mystical creatures.

My hacienda fantasy dollhouse.

By my mid-teens I was deep into fantasy and my forgotten dollhouse was the perfect place to create my own magical world. The entrance hall and living room was the realm of the fairies - delicate, handcrafted felt creatures with butterfly wings made of painted feathers that were easy to find at the local craft stores at the time. All the figures were, in fact, handmade by me of felt. Felt was cheap, easy to get, didn't ravel when cut, and was very easy to hand sew. The white unicorn liked to hang out in the fairies' living room when it wasn't just chilling on the front porch.

Where the fairies are.

The kitchen was where the dark hooded figures gathered to perform rituals. They did more conjuring than cooking in there so they never bothered with getting any major appliances. The dark unicorn enjoyed spending time with them.

Not sure what they were up to but none of the other residents seemed concerned.

Upstairs, the gnomes took up residence in one of the bedrooms. Theirs was a wilder setting, closer to nature, as they liked it. There was even a small stream running though that was likely a leak from the adjacent bathroom.

The yellow cootie was not a pest, it was a pet.

The gnomes' favorite food was acorns. While none actually grew in the house, they would magically appear in the fairies' living room. The gnomes would take turns venturing to the first floor to collect them. 

Just stay out of the fairies' way and you'll be fine.

The mermaids lived in the bathroom, as should be expected. They are the only residents with actual faces. Markers don't do precision work on felt, so I decided to keep the rest of my little creations expressionless.

The water bill was huge at this house.

The second bedroom was an arid place filled with sand and warm stones. A serpent moved in with its hoard of priceless (plastic) jewels. It never troubled anyone else in the house as long as they didn't get too curious about its treasure.

Careful little fairy! Look but don't touch.

There was a slight infestation of tiny red bears. They may have come from under the stairs but no one knew for sure. They only lurked and watched so all the residents decided it was easiest to just let them be.

Like an endless game of hide and seek.

I remember having such fun poring over the walls, shelves, and bins in craft stores searching for the perfect thing that would make my fantasy hacienda more complete. I intended to collect old bark from my dad's sawmill to cover the roof. I don't remember what my plan was for the siding. As usual, I lost interest. This time, the dollhouse sat for 30-ish years gathering dust. It's still at my parents' house. I was there this week. I don't think I'll revisit the old hacienda but it did make me wonder when I stopped creating things. I do some knitting and sewing now and then, but nothing like when I was a teen. Maybe the practicality of adulthood took over. I need to see about changing that.

The Garden in June

The garden on June 30, 2024.

On this, the last day of June 2024, our garden is doing beautifully. It's always amazing to me that what began as tiny seeds can become food-bearing plants in just a little over one month's time. 

The garden on June 15, 2024, for comparison.

At the very beginning of June, we harvested all our (meager) crop of pak choi. One week ago, I picked the entirety of our arugula. It had begun to bolt because of the stupidly hot weather. My plan was always to harvest it all at one time anyway. I like putting greens like that with other, later plants. The pak choi, for example, was in the same bed as the zucchini and yellow squash. The arugula surrounded the One-Too-Many pumpkin plant.

Garden bed before and after arugula harvest

Basket o' arugula

We've also started harvesting sugar snap peas. It's just been a couple handfuls so far, but they are just starting. Maybe it's because we used to live and garden on Hoth, but I never expect pea plants to grow very tall. You would think that after nearly ten years of gardening here, I would adjust my expectations. But, no, I still only set up a short fence for the peas to climb upon.

The pea fence. So dainty.

It quickly became clear that I needed to add some height. So, we got a few 6' tall poles and I added them to either side of the existing fence. It appears that even the new height will not be enough, but the peas are just going to have to accept that. 

The new, taller, still rather dainty pea fence.

Eh, they seem happy enough.

When we got the poles for the peas, we got an extra one to add to the bean trellis in the three sisters garden bed. Unlike some beans (that shall remain unnamed), rattlesnake beans are great at finding their own way onto a trellis. They've had no problem climbing like champions as the popcorn reaches for the sky and the Long Pie pumpkin fills in around them. There are several teeny tiny pumpkins on the vines, so I have cautiously-high hopes that we'll have some to put up for the winter.

Three sister thriving. Pardon the barely-contained asparagus in the back.

Something new for us this year is a tomatillo plant. I don't think I've ever knowingly eaten a tomatillo, but I hear they are delicious, particularly in salsa verde. My husband picked up a plant when we were out getting the tomatoes and peppers and I said, why not? I had no idea that it would become the largest, lushest, fullest plant in the garden. It is beautiful, though I feel it needs to be restrained in some way. Some research is in order.

Beautiful tomatillo plant with jealous deer in the distance.

It's got lovely flowers too.

Speaking of lovely flowers (we were if you read that last caption), our trumpet vine is going crazy. I was assured when I first got it from a warm acquaintance many years ago that it would be nearly impossible to kill, in a good way. They were not lying and it is gorgeous this year. The hummingbirds like it too.

I'll have to try to get a picture of a hummingbird on the trumpet vine but those little suckers are fast. (the birds, not the vines)

And now for the wildlife update. The twin fawns are still hanging around in our backyard with their mother. There are a couple of yearlings who bound through occasionally as well. Yesterday, I saw a pair of young bucks in velvet too, so that was fun. 

Mama and babies.

I've tried to make friends with the dumb fawn. (In a pair, there is always a dumb fawn and a nervous fawn. The dumb one would probably walk right up to a person if the nervous one didn't start running.) I got close once while offering some fresh snap peas I had just picked, but I've decided it's probably not a good idea. It's better that wild animals don't get too comfortable around people, at least not making-contact comfortable. So, we will continue to be casually friendly at a distance, like good neighbors. We smile and say hi in passing but have never been formally introduced.

Hello sharer of our backyard.

In rabbit news, she may or may not be fixing to have babies under our clothesline again. Stay tuned.

 

Too Little Spring for Little Pak Choi

 

Several years ago, we discovered toy choy, a small variety of pak choi that grows quickly and can be harvested in 30 days. This was very important because our garden has cabbage worms. Yuck! I hate cabbage worms. I hate them so much that I have been known to stomp on the pretty little butterflies that make the worms like a Blue Meanie with a vendetta. We don't use poison on things we're going to eat, hand picking off the gross little creatures was tedious on kale and impossible between the layers of growing cabbage, and even row covers couldn't keep them at bay. 

 

The grand solution was toy choy, a member of the cabbage family that we could harvest before the wormage set in. One year I didn't harvest in time and was thoroughly disgusted as the bright green worms floated to the surface as I rinsed the toy choy, but otherwise we've had really good luck growing lovely crops of the tasty greens. In years past, I've had enough to freeze and pickle on top of cooking it right away. This year, unfortunately, was not one of those years. There were no worms, but not much pak choi either.

This year's toy choy (powdered with diatomaceous earth)

I'm pretty certain it was the lack of real springtime weather here that was the problem. Before the seedlings could put on any nice leaves, most of them bolted. With so much energy going into making flowers, there wasn't much left for producing the parts we actually want to eat. 

So spindly!

So, I gave in this evening and just harvested the whole lot of them. 

Yes sir, yes sir, one basket full.

I did my usual multiple rinsings, sorted and trimmed them, then spun them out in the salad spinner (one of my favorite kitchen tools ever). 

Salad spinner!

I ended up with just one gallon bread bag full of little pak choi leaves. 

Sad trombone sounds

Oh well. We'll enjoy them over the next couple of days - probably in a stir fry or cooked up with some beans - and we'll try again next year. Or maybe in the fall if it actually cools down gently enough before going right into winter.

They're small but still pretty.

And now, in backyard wildlife news, one of the new neighborhood fawns likes to rest just outside our garden gate next to the transplanted rhubarb.

Awwwwwww!