Flowers of FAR Manor: Lilies

Mrs. Fetched was pleased to see these guys blooming out front.

Like the rhodo’s, they don’t have much modesty, sticking their IBs out for all to see.

[Another smellphone shot, taken 6/1]

Flowers of FAR Manor: Thistle

To follow up on the alien onion, until I have something else to talk about, I will post pictures of the flowers currently blooming around FAR Manor this week.

This thistle was actually in the pasture on the way to the chicken houses. It’s kind of like a rose — it has pretty flowers and nasty thorns — but as Mrs. Fetched puts it: “Cows won’t try to eat roses. They’ll eat thistles, and choke on ’em. You should have sprayed it after you took that picture.”

I suppose I could have peed on it.

[Taken with the smellphone, 5/31]

One (or two) for the Road

A couple of cellphone shots to wrap up the week…

Besides the huckleberries, we have some higher blueberry bushes growing wild on the place. They run a couple weeks behind the huckleberries, for whatever reason. Last year, I was waiting for them to get ripe and then they… disappeared. I guess the birds were waiting too, and they got there first. I was bummed out, but hopeful that we’ll get some of them this year. Maybe I’ll get some cheese cloth or hang some tinfoil around the area to keep them out.

On the way home from work, I took a ride out a back road that I knew dead-ended at a river. I just wondered how far it went and what was out there. Looks like it might have been a bridge at one time.

Well, that’s the end of the road for the flower pix, at least for now. FAR Future episodes will be posted at least on the next two Mondays, and I should be able to make it three. I hope things will continue to work out that way.

The Fruited… whatever.

I started cleaning up around the front and side of the manor over the weekend, and re-discovered the huckleberry (blueberry) clump. The plants themselves are about twice the size they were last year, and promise to give much more than the handful of small (but quite sweet) fruit this time around. All I have to do is keep the birds away (fat chance).

Mrs. Fetched is pretty sure that we’re seeing them now because we had some timber people remove many/most of the pines around the manor grounds two summers ago (they were getting pine beetles & they paid us to take care of the problem). It makes sense.

I’m thinking that once they finish doing their thing this year, I'll dig up and transplant some of these to give them all some more room to grow. But prolific producers like this guy? I’ll leave completely undisturbed, to make sure they have the room they need. I don’t think I’ll worry about having nice regimented rows like many blueberry farms have; I’ll just give them all some space.

That was the side. Around front, across from the driveway, there’s a pretty good stand of blackberries. I debated about mowing them down, then thought better of it — I won’t have to walk very far to pick them. This stand should be good for half a gallon of berries.

I like to get at least two gallons of blackberries every year. Mrs. Fetched’s mom helps to make jelly & jam, and I got like 14 pints last year. When January comes around, I open a jar and spread some on toast… and remember just how dang hot it was on July 4 weekend when I was picking them. :-P

Go Yard

I was going to post this last night, but got tied up on a proposal for work. Weekend Cinema will come tomorrow. I hope to have a new FAR Future episode ready next week.

As I mentioned in the previous post, we did a lot of shopping last weekend to burn up the last of the tax refund. Our major purchase was a Cub Cadet lawn mower. Mrs. Fetched wanted self-propelled and a bagger. I wanted a Honda engine and a decent (i.e. not Wal-Mart) build quality. This fit the bill, and was pretty much in line with what we were seeing for similar mowers.

One of the nicer features is that you can control the drive speed by squeezing a lever, so we can easily vary the speed to match the part of the lawn we’re working on. Straight ahead? Let 'er rip! Stumps or landscaping? Ease it back. The swivel wheels up front allow tighter turns as well, and can be locked (although in our yard, turns are plenty so they’ll likely remain swinging).

Of course, with a bag that fills up two or three times, you need a place to empty it. I’ve been wanting to get a composting bin for a while, but I never saw any places that carried them locally and I balked at the $120 prices online. I’d contemplated just buying a big garbage can and cutting some holes in it, but Mrs. Fetched wanted to go to WalMart… and guess who is the only place in the free-range insane asylum that has composters? I sighed and coughed up $44 for the coffers in Bentonville.

I put it together that evening and plunked it down on top of the compost heap I’d had going for a while now. The next day, I pretty much filled it up with grass clippings. Two days later, it was only half full. It’s magic! I told The Boy that if he has any worms left over from fishing, to throw them in — they’ll help digest the fodder and make more worms. It’s just the right height to comfortably pee into (given the situation with the septic tank, the fewer flushes the better, and the composter can always use a little extra nitrogen).

Of course, the motto “if it’s WalMart, it must be junk” applies here too. This seam first popped loose when I was working the
composter into place. It popped open again on its own later. I’ve given up wasting my time trying to put it together for now; eventually, I’ll grab some flashing and a pop riveter and go for a more permanent fix.

I think I’ll try building another composter out of a big garbage can and see if I can get Mrs. Fetched’s mom to warm up to the idea. She loves her gardening, and free soil enrichments would make her happy.

Flowers in her hair, flowers everywhere

There are some compensations to living at FAR Manor. One is the explosion of color we get, usually around April Fool’s Day. This year, with winter hanging on just as long as it could, things were a little slow to get moving… waiting, of course, until we were on vacation. On the other hand, this is what we came home to: everything is in bloom.





Boran2 asked me to post a photo of this episode of “When Sage Goes Wild.” It’s sprawling about 6 feet across at the moment. Iowa Victory Gardener suggests I prune it back, and that’s probably a good idea.

The rosemary (over to the left) needs a little fertilizer and trimming back, but it too is blooming at the moment. I’ll wait for it to go back to just being green (instead of green and purple) before doing much more than getting a little cutting for the homebrew (which I have yet to start, dangit!).



I’d mentioned that the oregano I planted last fall was hugging the ground and slowly creeping around, under the weeds and under the frost radar. Now that things are warming up, it has made its presence known. This thing is nearly 2-½ feet across, enough to flavor a few dozen pizzas with enough left over for salads.

Meanwhile, the mint held its own through the winter and is now feeling ready to do its thing. I have a feeling these two will put on an Herbal Death Match this year.



The flowering cherry tree sits right outside the bedroom window, and stands higher than the house itself. It makes for a nice view this time of year when I’m working at home and sitting at the window.

The picture doesn’t really do justice to the tree, unless you click on it to get the full-size view.





Just in case you want an even closer view…

So anyway, this was a weekend of much going on (the good parts of FAR Manor tend to be rather brief that way :-P). At least I didn’t have to deal with the chicken houses… but yesterday morning I cleaned out the fireplace insert and saved out a small bucket of charcoal, maybe enough to grill out once. The Boy has been helping to start building up the fuel supply for next winter, and he’s about ¼ of the way there.

After lunch, we started shopping. The lawn mower had Epic Fail last fall, so we started looking for a new one. I decided I’d rather spend a couple hundred bucks and get something that won’t give us a bunch of grief, and ended up with a Cub Cadet. Mrs. Fetched went berserk in the garden section at Home Despot, and I picked up a couple of annual herbs — purple basil? Must try! Finally, I learned (much to my dismay) that the only place that sells composting bins around here is Wally World.

So we got home, and I put the lawn mower together (mainly the handle) — then realized we had no gas. Daughter Dearest had been pinging us occasionally through the day about getting cat litter while we were out, but Mrs. Fetched’s dad was with us and he was getting tired before we managed to get to the grocery store. So once more into a vehicle, and off to the grocery store. We got cat litter, and much more (of course), then stopped to fill a couple of gas cans on the way back. Naturally, it was dark before we returned home, so the lawn had to wait.

And wait some more. Mrs. Fetched was hot to get those flowers planted. She knew I wanted to deal with the lawn, so she simply had me drag out the Mantis and dig up the beds. I got most of the weeds out from around the oregano as well. But when I was done with the lawn, I was dragooned into digging holes for the larger stuff. Again, it was getting dark before we finished… so I guess Mrs. Fetched can try getting The Boy to do some weed-eating this week.

I’m ready for bed. Back to the office, where I can maybe relax a little.

Revenge of the Pines

It’s that time of year again.

Planet Georgia, being one of the original 13 colonies, has a long history of environmental abuse. The old-growth forests of Southern Pine or hardwood are long gone, with the exception of some truly impressive hemlocks I’ve seen along the Appalachian Trail.

Development, especially in the Atlanta area, involves mowing down every single tree as a first step. Sometimes they’ll plant replacements. Sometimes. Usually ornamentals, lashed down with guy wires and surrounded by pavement to prevent them from escaping.

Somewhere around 1985, we hit a tipping point of sorts — and the pines started to fight back. Atlanta has never been The Place To Be for allergy sufferers during the spring, and things have only gotten worse since then. The official pollen count can get crazy this time of year. A pollen count over 120 is “extremely high” — and during dry spells it regularly soars above 1000, 3000, or even 5000. I think it actually hit 10000 once or twice. I think they need to add some ratings to the scale: “Ridiculous” up to 1000; “Judas Priest!” up to 3000, and so forth.

Pine trees are, as a matter of vengeance, a major contributor to the pollen count. On windy days, I’ve seen yellow clouds of pollen flying from the trees (you can grab a limb and shake to get the same effect). It doesn’t matter what color your car is — around here, in springtime, it’s yellow. Don’t bother washing it off; you’ll just have to do it again tomorrow. And every spring, they’re standing along the roadside, giving us all the finger.

I’m not allergic, thank God, but I still feel it when the pollen count gets above 5000 or so. Fortunately, rainy days like today rinse out the pollen and bring relief to the allergic.

Flowering trees

More sproing! — these are trees at a nearby church. There are similar trees in a traffic island on the way to work; I was going to grab a shot of those last week from the motorcycle, but the light turned green before I had a chance.

If anyone is keeping score, I took this one with the cellphone… the light was strong enough that I felt confident about getting something usable.

Bad news, good news

The DSL started crapping out on me this morning around 11. Now it seems to be flaked out entirely. I’m sending this from my cellphone.

I took a brief walk a few minutes ago, and found a sprout in the pepper bed... maybe it’s a bell pepper volunteering.

Lunar Eclipse [UPDATED]

Of course it would be a cloudy night,
with a lunar eclipse happening tonight!

This was the best I could do. I had better (less) cloud cover earlier, but all I had then was my cellphone and that didn't work so good.


UPDATE: About an hour and a half later, just past totality, it cleared up and I got another shot that I didn't have to fight the clouds for.

Another fire

This is pretty much all that’s left of the house just down and across from FAR Manor. It seems the old guy was cooking in the kitchen and something got away from him. His grandson came in and got him out, so nobody was hurt. But the house… well, you can see it. There’s not much left even to clean up.

Daughter Dearest said she heard the car (one of which you can see through the trees) blow up.

I’m not sure where the former residents went. They put up a “caretaker” trailer (going behind the zoning board’s back), but the grandfather is in a wheelchair.

Escape 2007, Episode 8: Kal-Haven

Things have settled down quite a bit in the last day or so, thanks to a couple of fortunate circumstances. First, OB’s father-in-law is feeling much better, and the hospital is going to send him home. This frees up my sister-in-law, in several ways, and she joined us at the lake house early yesterday. Daughter Dearest’s efforts to keep the kids entertained was not overlooked; she got her first pedicure out of the deal (she described it as "different, but nice"). So Daughter Dearest is now free to do… what?

That question was answered by the second circumstance. We had a family meal at a place in Hamilton yesterday, and a cousin (one of the about 20% of my cousins who happens to be female), a little older than Daughter Dearest, was a last-minute addition to the roster. This perked up DD considerably; they had a good time together last time we were in Michigan. Before hearing this news, she had planned to skip the meal entirely. They sat together and DD smiled more in one evening than she had most of the week.

Then, after the dinner, they came over and asked me if DD could go back with them so she could go to my uncle’s party tomorrow. I gave it all of two seconds before agreeing; she had been helpful (if not terribly happy) all week and I wanted her to have a good time too. Besides, it wasn’t exactly like she was going off with strangers. This also answered the question about what she’d be doing while my bro and I were off on our bike ride.

The Kal-Haven Trail is one of the Rails-to-Trails projects, and runs from Kalamazoo to South Haven (on Lake Michigan) — roughly 35 miles. Of the several possible starting points along the trail, we chose Bloomingdale (at the halfway point). That worked out to about 17 miles to the beach; I figured I’d ridden that far on much hillier terrain so I shouldn’t have too much trouble doing it there-and-back on a flat run. (OB is in much better shape, so it wasn’t an issue for him.) There’s only one significant climb on the trail, and it was on the part we weren’t taking.

As you know, I’m not a big fan of cellphone cameras in general, but they do OK on bright sunny days like this. Weight-wise, they come for free with the phone, and I figured it would be a good idea to carry the phone anyway. But sometimes, you just want some zoom.

In the distance, you can see OB boarding his bike. The nice pavement ran out as soon as we got past the depot/museum and into the shade. However, the dirt was hard-packed, smooth (except for the occasional gopher hole), and sprinkled with very fine gravel. My road tires never felt like they were anywhere near slipping at any time.

The trail runs parallel (and across) numerous county roads. Some of the smarter businesses near the trail crossings provide services for the cyclists (summer) or snowmobilers (winter). This particular entrepreneur offers blueberries, soft drinks, and restrooms. The trail has outhouses at various stops along the way, but sometimes you need a break, right?


Approaching South Haven, there’s a covered bridge over the Black River. I took this shot while in motion; it’s blurry, but not in the usual way. Kind of a neat effect, methinks.

We took the westward leg with only one stop to adjust items of clothing; I felt pretty good even after what Jack calls “Accidental Ingestion of Airborne Protein.” (OB managed to spit his out, mine was too far back so I just swallowed and kept riding.) The trail ends shortly after crossing the bridge. OB and I dithered about how to proceed, and figured “west” would get us to the beach. About a mile later, we found a little shop near the beach, grabbed a sandwich and Vernor’s, and crossed the street to the beach.

“Where should we sit?” OB asked.

“In the sand,” I said. “It’ll brush off.”

And so we did. I figured even if I was sore tomorrow, this was worth it. Chow on the beach with your bro, cheeky young ladies walking past, no fishkill — what more could you want in a bicycling destination?

Of course, the trip back was a little harder on the eldest (that would be me). We figured that it was aggregate downhill going west, since the lake is the low point. Seems like downhill going/uphill returning is how I end up on most rides. I had to make a few rest stops on the way back, but after a couple of minutes I was ready to continue. We got back to Bloomingdale, grabbed an ice cream to celebrate, tossed our bikes into Barge Vader, and headed on back.

Call the Volunteers!

Not the volunteers for the revolution, although if Congress doesn’t put a leash on Bush-league — and soon! — it might come to that. But for the mid-week Independence Day festoovities, I can show off some of the volunteer plants around FAR Manor:

Last year, this was a flower bed. Mrs. Fetched decided she wasn’t going to plant anything in here, so I put in some garlic. The drought nailed most of the garlic, although you can see a couple of shoots managed to survive. I stuck several basil plants in here as well, because I needed to put them somewhere. But the flower (that’s trying to overrun one of the garlic shoots) and the tomato (near the bottom of the frame) decided to appear on their own.

Of the flower, Mrs. Fetched said, “Yeah, I put one of those in there last year… but I thought it was an annual.” It must have self-seeded, because I tilled up that bed pretty good early in the spring.


Several varieties of blueberry are native to Planet Georgia, but I was surprised to find these on one of the more neglected parts of the manor grounds, let alone doing so well. I think the April cold snap may have done them some good. They’re small — pea size or maybe a little smaller — but quite tasty. They take the concept of “low-hanging fruit” to a new low: they’re only a couple of inches off the ground. For some reason, these low-down berries are the first ones to ripen.

The blackberries are also going great guns. I have no clue how they managed to get so big, especially with the dry weather we’ve been having. Perhaps the cold snap helped them as well.


There are three or four bushes out here too, probably of a different variety. These berries are nearly twice as large as the ground-huggers, and still working on ripening. I’ve learned that there’s such a thing as “bird scare ribbon” so I might have to get some of that soon (it will also help us remember the right bushes when we go a-pruning come winter).


I’m not sure if this is a cucumber, squash, or melon — but it came out of nowhere (actually, near the compost pile). I threw half a watermelon in the compost heap last week, but that’s nowhere near enough time for it to grow nearly three feet and start flowering.


I’m about inundated with jalapenos. I’m thinking about picking a bunch of them to take to the farmer’s market on Saturday; I might clip some herbs as well (the parsley and mint especially need a trim, and I have almost as much basil as I do jalapenos) — Mrs. Fetched says I ought to sell them; I was thinking about just trading for produce we (or my mother-in-law, the Master Gardener) don’t have growing. I’ve picked a few bell peppers, and they’re doing quite well too, but we’ll probably use them ourselves. We loves us some bell peppers at FAR Manor, and they’re just too dang expensive at the store.

Tomorrow, I’m planning to get another gallon of blackberries. That (and the gallon I’ve already grabbed) should make enough jelly to get through the winter. One of the few comforts of a cold winter morning is to spread some blackberry jelly on toast and remember just how dang hot it was when I picked those berries in July.

Storms

I wimped out on taking the motorcycle this morning, using the need to carry a laptop as an excuse — so naturally, it didn’t rain much today. It’s misting a little bit right now, but yesterday about this time we were getting some seriously heavy weather. Several storms yesterday delivered downbursts here and there, uprooting a tree onto a highway, flattening this stand of corn about a mile from FAR Manor (it's clearer when you click-to-enlarge), and possibly jackknifing a “portable parking lot” truck in town.

Several of my pepper plants were bent over, as likely from the weight of the peppers as much as the wind. I’m propping them up and relieving them of their burden as best as I can. The bell peppers look very nice — I hope they’re as tasty as they look.

More on Finding Stuff

I was close to overload this morning: between fixing breakfast, gathering up boxes for a yard sale at the in-laws’, and getting ready to button up the chicken houses for the new batch (coming tomorrow), I was amazed I kept it all straight.

One of the yard sale items was a commercial-grade VCR. Mrs. Fetched has nearly a half-dozen of them, leftovers from her analog video editing days. “See if you can find the remotes for the rest,” she said, waving the one remote she was able to locate (when your remote has a jog/shuttle wheel, you’re uptown!). Naturally, I didn’t find the remotes, but I did find: the voltmeter (in the coffee table drawer), Mrs. Fetched’s English Allen wrenches (on The Boy’s dresser), and my trouble light (buried under a bunch of stuff in a box in the garage). I vaguely remember carrying the Allen wrenches up to his room to dismantle a bed frame, but thought I’d put them back. The trouble light was about where I thought it should have been, but buried deeper than I’d expected. I have no clue why the voltmeter was in the coffee table.

After the chicken houses, I was sweaty and dirty: in other words, in perfect form to go pick blackberries. I cut the top off a milk jug I’d rinsed out for the purpose, sprayed myself down with bug bomb, and marched out to hunt and gather. There were a few nice big ones by Crissy the Shriekbox’s pen; I endured the barking and grabbed those, then hiked through the woods behind the manor to the pasture. There are a couple of really good stands of blackberries around some brush piles, and they did not disappoint. I also found where the Japanese Beetles have been hanging out; shaking the vines elicited a noise like a squadron of Zeros taking off. While they had sucked some of the berries dry, many others were intact and as big as a fingertip (all the way to the first knuckle). I don’t know how the berries managed to get so big what with the lack of rain through most of June, but I filled my jug and headed back as more rain threatened. I got three or four drops is all; most of the rain went about a half mile south. I’m looking forward to stashing some jelly for the winter.

Cuddlebuddies and wild berries

Wow. The last time I mentioned Daughter Dearest’s boyfriend was nearly two months ago. What with one thing and another, he never got back down here. They’ve been staying in touch on-line and by phone, and got into some arguments anyway, and actually broke up for a couple of weeks. But with school out, she hasn’t had enough to do with her part-time job and the chicken houses, and got to missing him big-time.

It hasn’t helped that The Boy hooked up with a girl on Myspace, ostensibly the keyboardist for the band, but they got more into each other than the music. She’s 16, kind of marginal age-wise, but better than the Nightmare Scenario that played out a while back: he hooked up with a girl who said she was 18, but was (according to her parents anyway) 12. P.O.D. went to pick her up, looked at her, and asked to see her driver’s license (“it’s suspended”) before letting her hop in. The phone calls started very soon after that, with everyone freaking out and P.O.D. taking her home as fast as he could. She kept calling after that, maybe even crossing the stalking line, and ran away a couple of days later with her 10-year-old cousin, then called here. The Boy got her to tell him where she was… and we immediately relayed that to her parents. They were somewhat peeved at The Boy, and I thought he might get busted (and that would Be It For Him until October) — but when I told them to check her Myspace page and look where she said she was 18, they were a bit more understanding. The current girlfriend is more on the up-and-up — we’ve talked to her mom — and very cute. I’m not sure what she sees in the uglified mess that is The Boy these days… but then again, she is blonde.

But I digress. DD hasn’t seen her boyfriend in a couple of months, and this girl being over here all too often lately hasn’t helped. She’s been pushing to spend a long weekend in his town when we go to Michigan next month, but then decided she just couldn’t wait that long. After I told her I couldn’t get time off work because I’m trying to finish a project in time to go when originally planned (the truth), she managed to persuade Mrs. Fetched to go up with her for a long weekend. So I’m stuck here with The Boy, a bunch of his friends, and my patience has been running thin with him this last week. Pray for me.

All is not doom and gloom, however. Mrs. Fetched left some mail for me to put in the box, so I walked it down when I got home from work. As I was hiking back up the driveway, I noticed that there were some ripe blackberries in the briars alongside. I grabbed a bowl and started picking, working my way around the back of the house and then behind the detached garage. That’s where I found several blueberry bushes; and some of them were ripe too — pea-sized but tasty. There’s plenty more to get next weekend too.

Finally, I worked my way around to where the jalapeño plants are. It looks like a dog might have run across the bed and knocked over two of the plants; the smaller peppers shown came off a stalk that was broken off completely. The Boy and his friends were hanging out at the bottom of the driveway, so I finished the circle and tossed him one of the small peppers. Several of us (including me) took a bite of it — the pepper part was fairly mild but the seeds were hot. But the blackberries were sweet too; I’ve got both The Boy and his girlfriend to agree to a little picking expedition tomorrow morning. Drop off a couple of things for Mrs. Fetched after that, then it’s off to the resort (where I escaped, sort of, last year) for basic hanging out at the pool. I was hoping to fix black beans & rice for supper tomorrow, but can’t find the beans.

Anyway… if The Boy can refrain from pushing my buttons, I might be able to salvage this weekend.

Smoke from a Distant Fire

The south GA/north FL fires are depositing a thick layer of smoke all the way up here — I was pretty sure at first that there was a fire nearby. Someone at church this morning said she heard on the news that ash was falling on the south side of Atlanta. Supposedly, it’s not so bad on the mountaintops.

All the windows are closed and we won’t be doing much outside today. Today, a 30-mile bike ride could be a good way to get a case of black lung.

PITT (Pain In The Thighs)

Mrs. Fetched and Daughter Dearest went to see Pirates of the Caribbean III this afternoon. Since I haven’t seen the first two, I decided to sit it out. This was my chance to ride the road course that goes by FAR Manor. I packed my cellphone (in case of trouble or photo opportunities), two water bottles, and my trusty iPod. Escape Pod provided a high-tech counterpoint to my low-tech adventure.

I haven’t done a 30-mile bike ride since I was in college, so of course I’m feeling it. I could be feeling one or two of the college-day rides as well. The route isn’t exactly Florida-flat, and gets somewhat remote in some places. This bit of graffiti pretty much says it all.


A stretch of road had these flowers growing along the side. They look like a white belladonna, but frankly I got no clue. Maybe one of the plant experts can identify it? I’d appreciate it.


I started “feeling it” about 2/3 of the way through the ride, so obviously turning back would have been a Bad Idea. I’ll probably walk funny for a little while, but Lord knows I need the exercise. If I do this every weekend, I should get in shape fairly quickly. But I’m pleased with how the pictures turned out — the cellphone camera worked will in bright light.

Dwarf Lilies

I noticed these dwarf lilies (as Mrs. Fetched found they’re called) springing up where the tiger lilies usually prowl. She said, “they just came up on their own, I don’t know how they got there.” In other words, another pretty nuisance plant.



Click the picture to get a closeup. The blooms remind me of the wild violets that came and went earlier in the year (but are still growing all over the place).

There Goes the Neighborhood

When I first moved out here, I figured that the subdivisions would catch up to me about the time I retired. I wanted to retire when I was 50, but that’s only a couple of years away — and barring a life-changing event, retirement isn’t in the cards for a long time.

That hasn’t stopped the subdivision from coming, though. This is going in just down the road from FAR Manor, a farm across from my in-laws’ that the owners sold last year.