The bird and the raspberry
Aug. 2nd, 2020 23:12![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
torquillToday I spent a great deal of time in the garden area. I started by clearing the space around the deck and the rain barrel, then as that got too hot I shifted to the shade around the foot of the current garden, cutting branches off the pyracantha to allow access behind the line of unintended shrubs. That came to an abrupt halt when I realized the branch I had just cut had fruit on it -- a baseball-sized paper nest. I backed away precipitously, seeing one insect on the outside; between its dark color and the type of nest, it looks like we have some bald-faced hornets. OOPS.
Drat, I meant to go out tonight to deal with that, and forgot. Well, tomorrow should be just as cool... maybe I can get up in the middle of the night when it's coolest. I'll need to bundle up, don my improvised beekeeper's hat and leather gloves, and maneuver the sleeping nest into a thick plastic bag to go into the freezer. Fun times...
After that I had lunch, and then cast around a bit and finally settled on the other side of the line of shrubs. I had some notion of piling the cut weeds in the paddock there between the garden and the orchard, so I worked my way up behind the raspberries. It turns out the berry canes are scattered all through that area, so I won't be piling there; I'll probably hop the paddock fence I discovered (bent over, like almost all the wire fences) and pile them in the near side of the orchard instead. There's so much it may smother a bunch of weeds, especially if I can put cardboard underneath. Time to talk to the local home appliance shop about boxes...
I was through a bunch of the bamboo-grass and had cut half the comfrey (I left the other half for the bumblebees) and I was carefully separating bent raspberry canes from grass and horsetail, when I realized there was a bird perched on the nearby weed pile. It didn't look especially well, fluffing up in the sun near the ground, and it seemed to be half-dozing. So I kept working, moving quietly. When I was finishing up, I found it had moved to the middle of the path past the workshop. I thought of the two cats around here, and carefully tossed a ripe raspberry in front of it.
It moved toward it after a moment, and ate with messy enthusiasm. It had a beak rather like a seed-eater, but I thought the fruit wouldn't hurt if its blood sugar was low. I tossed it another a few minutes later, and went to get a little dish of water. It seemed to consider me a little intimidating, but not dangerous, so I was able to offer it the water, but it didn't stop for a drink. Instead, it pecked at various things on the ground and emitted somewhat pathetic sounds.
It sounded like a nestling. A close look showed that while it had a full set of wing feathers, its breast was still very downy; its body was about the size and shape of a tennis ball, with a large black-and-white striped head, but it could be an adolescent. (Later research suggested some type of sparrow, but it's hard to tell with juveniles.) I tossed it another raspberry, which it pounced on. After that it seemed inclined to go to sleep in the path. I edged closer, and it glanced at me a few times before tucking its head under its wing again. Finally I was close enough to drop an aquarium net over it, and carefully extricated it so I could carry it somewhere safer.
I finally settled on the apple tree next to the chicken run; it seemed reassured by the presence and voices of the chickens, and I placed it on a branch inaccessible to cats. Later I heard its little call coming from the tangle of greenery out next to the end of the Annex, an impenetrable thicket; it should be safe enough there. Jenny said that some bird species continue to feed their young even when fledged, and that its mother might have been the dead bird she found in the driveway yesterday... in that case, it won't get any answer to its calls for mama. If it knows that berries are food now, the loganberry sprawls in that area and it's just fully ripening up, so maybe little bird can get by on those for a bit until it learns how to get food the hard way. It can fly, it's probably just tired easily. I'll keep an eye out for it.
At that point I went in to make dinner, some far-removed one-pot version of "chicken" (penne) with tomatoes and feta. It was solid and tasty, at least. While it cooked, I gathered up a bunch of the finer cut grass from the front lawn and piled it into a haystack, so I could tarp it in the face of tomorrow's predicted drizzle. The mist will be very good for the raspberries, which are now suddenly naked to the hot sun; I would otherwise have tried to water them, but tomorrow being cool and misty should help them. Not so the dry grass... we have hopes of using it in the Shippen for bedding, or on the garden, but it needs to be kept dry. Once I piled it up, I went to put my hand on the big silver tarp... which wasn't there. Chalk another item up to the thieves. I used a couple of pieces of plastic to cobble a poncho that should be fine as long as there's no real wind.
After dinner I put the chickens to bed -- as long as you wait until it's full twilight, they're all lined up neat as you please on the rafters, and all that needs to be done is close the hatch to the outdoors -- and put up the cucumbers I bought at Bernard's Farm on my way back from McMinnville. I had somehow gotten sixteen, and as they packed very neatly four to a jar, I rustled up four jars and it worked out well. I even remembered every step: cutting the ends off, adding the dill and a (huge) oak leaf to the bottom of each jar, adding the garlic on top, and shaking it after adding the salt and water. The jars are now in the garage, where they should turn slowly into pickles.
A quick wash of my dishes in the sink, and I was ready for bed. Quite a full day, and a lot of time spent on my feet. But I feel accomplished, as I look out at the proud tall canes of the raspberry standing alone, where they may get some good sun to recharge their root systems for a couple of months. I'll end up moving them in the near future, maybe consolidating them where they are, maybe moving them further down the paddock so I have room for a greenhouse across from the workshop. It depends partly on how well I can keep the paddock clear of bamboo grass, horsetail, and comfrey.
I still have to mow the orchard to make room for the weedstacks piled all across the garden and the paddock. Then, perhaps, I might be able to make some progress with digging the garden... the bricks of the old chimney gave me the idea to buy some fence boards for elevated walkways, above the inevitable mud (as soon as you break ground and it starts to mist, well...) That may allow me to make a couple of basic in-ground beds for a few vegetables, while providing boards to build raised beds later. Eventually I may go for high raised beds or elevated planters, but I need to move or make a bunch of soil for even basic raised beds. It's a process.
I did have a solid lunch today, but I didn't have one at all yesterday in McMinnville. Funny how, once you get all of the chemical exposures and bad air quality out of my environment, my hypoglycemia subsides, and finally vanishes. I was hungry yesterday, and I didn't have a completely clear head for things like plumbing calculations, but I was perfectly functional for shopping, navigating, planning my time, and cooking. No temperature swings, crushing fatigue, brainfog, anxiety, achiness, and so on. I've maintained for some time that my inability to go keto-catabolic was a symptom of inflammation messing with my metabolism, and this absolutely fits. I bet I'll lose twenty pounds when I'm here full-time.
Drat, I meant to go out tonight to deal with that, and forgot. Well, tomorrow should be just as cool... maybe I can get up in the middle of the night when it's coolest. I'll need to bundle up, don my improvised beekeeper's hat and leather gloves, and maneuver the sleeping nest into a thick plastic bag to go into the freezer. Fun times...
After that I had lunch, and then cast around a bit and finally settled on the other side of the line of shrubs. I had some notion of piling the cut weeds in the paddock there between the garden and the orchard, so I worked my way up behind the raspberries. It turns out the berry canes are scattered all through that area, so I won't be piling there; I'll probably hop the paddock fence I discovered (bent over, like almost all the wire fences) and pile them in the near side of the orchard instead. There's so much it may smother a bunch of weeds, especially if I can put cardboard underneath. Time to talk to the local home appliance shop about boxes...
I was through a bunch of the bamboo-grass and had cut half the comfrey (I left the other half for the bumblebees) and I was carefully separating bent raspberry canes from grass and horsetail, when I realized there was a bird perched on the nearby weed pile. It didn't look especially well, fluffing up in the sun near the ground, and it seemed to be half-dozing. So I kept working, moving quietly. When I was finishing up, I found it had moved to the middle of the path past the workshop. I thought of the two cats around here, and carefully tossed a ripe raspberry in front of it.
It moved toward it after a moment, and ate with messy enthusiasm. It had a beak rather like a seed-eater, but I thought the fruit wouldn't hurt if its blood sugar was low. I tossed it another a few minutes later, and went to get a little dish of water. It seemed to consider me a little intimidating, but not dangerous, so I was able to offer it the water, but it didn't stop for a drink. Instead, it pecked at various things on the ground and emitted somewhat pathetic sounds.
It sounded like a nestling. A close look showed that while it had a full set of wing feathers, its breast was still very downy; its body was about the size and shape of a tennis ball, with a large black-and-white striped head, but it could be an adolescent. (Later research suggested some type of sparrow, but it's hard to tell with juveniles.) I tossed it another raspberry, which it pounced on. After that it seemed inclined to go to sleep in the path. I edged closer, and it glanced at me a few times before tucking its head under its wing again. Finally I was close enough to drop an aquarium net over it, and carefully extricated it so I could carry it somewhere safer.
I finally settled on the apple tree next to the chicken run; it seemed reassured by the presence and voices of the chickens, and I placed it on a branch inaccessible to cats. Later I heard its little call coming from the tangle of greenery out next to the end of the Annex, an impenetrable thicket; it should be safe enough there. Jenny said that some bird species continue to feed their young even when fledged, and that its mother might have been the dead bird she found in the driveway yesterday... in that case, it won't get any answer to its calls for mama. If it knows that berries are food now, the loganberry sprawls in that area and it's just fully ripening up, so maybe little bird can get by on those for a bit until it learns how to get food the hard way. It can fly, it's probably just tired easily. I'll keep an eye out for it.
At that point I went in to make dinner, some far-removed one-pot version of "chicken" (penne) with tomatoes and feta. It was solid and tasty, at least. While it cooked, I gathered up a bunch of the finer cut grass from the front lawn and piled it into a haystack, so I could tarp it in the face of tomorrow's predicted drizzle. The mist will be very good for the raspberries, which are now suddenly naked to the hot sun; I would otherwise have tried to water them, but tomorrow being cool and misty should help them. Not so the dry grass... we have hopes of using it in the Shippen for bedding, or on the garden, but it needs to be kept dry. Once I piled it up, I went to put my hand on the big silver tarp... which wasn't there. Chalk another item up to the thieves. I used a couple of pieces of plastic to cobble a poncho that should be fine as long as there's no real wind.
After dinner I put the chickens to bed -- as long as you wait until it's full twilight, they're all lined up neat as you please on the rafters, and all that needs to be done is close the hatch to the outdoors -- and put up the cucumbers I bought at Bernard's Farm on my way back from McMinnville. I had somehow gotten sixteen, and as they packed very neatly four to a jar, I rustled up four jars and it worked out well. I even remembered every step: cutting the ends off, adding the dill and a (huge) oak leaf to the bottom of each jar, adding the garlic on top, and shaking it after adding the salt and water. The jars are now in the garage, where they should turn slowly into pickles.
A quick wash of my dishes in the sink, and I was ready for bed. Quite a full day, and a lot of time spent on my feet. But I feel accomplished, as I look out at the proud tall canes of the raspberry standing alone, where they may get some good sun to recharge their root systems for a couple of months. I'll end up moving them in the near future, maybe consolidating them where they are, maybe moving them further down the paddock so I have room for a greenhouse across from the workshop. It depends partly on how well I can keep the paddock clear of bamboo grass, horsetail, and comfrey.
I still have to mow the orchard to make room for the weedstacks piled all across the garden and the paddock. Then, perhaps, I might be able to make some progress with digging the garden... the bricks of the old chimney gave me the idea to buy some fence boards for elevated walkways, above the inevitable mud (as soon as you break ground and it starts to mist, well...) That may allow me to make a couple of basic in-ground beds for a few vegetables, while providing boards to build raised beds later. Eventually I may go for high raised beds or elevated planters, but I need to move or make a bunch of soil for even basic raised beds. It's a process.
I did have a solid lunch today, but I didn't have one at all yesterday in McMinnville. Funny how, once you get all of the chemical exposures and bad air quality out of my environment, my hypoglycemia subsides, and finally vanishes. I was hungry yesterday, and I didn't have a completely clear head for things like plumbing calculations, but I was perfectly functional for shopping, navigating, planning my time, and cooking. No temperature swings, crushing fatigue, brainfog, anxiety, achiness, and so on. I've maintained for some time that my inability to go keto-catabolic was a symptom of inflammation messing with my metabolism, and this absolutely fits. I bet I'll lose twenty pounds when I'm here full-time.
no subject
Date: 2020-08-04 20:10 (UTC)i'm definitely experiencing food flashbacks to israel, probably prompted by the hot weather.