STR Drive

What can you say? This is halfway up the 1/2 mile driveway. I always stop and look.

Eat Your Veggies!

EAT YOUR VEGGIES!

There is just about nothing in veggies that isn’t good for you. Raw, that is. If you have digestive trouble, it may be caused by myriad things, or just one. It doesn’t matter. Get out the cutting board and a knife or mandolin. Start with fresh cucumbers and tomatoes. Add some basil or cilantro or parsley (all three would be best). A little sea salt and maybe a pinch of pepper. Dash of oil and vinegar, or just vinegar if you’re feeling like you need a little zing.

Fresh food from the garden! Bowl by Paula Moran

When you shop in the grocery store, remember what you went in to get. Don’t buy the stuff in boxes with all the packaging and additives. Think about it. You’re paying for garbage. You don’t want the cardboard, and you don’t want your insides to look like cardboard. Get fresh. You’ll feel so much better. If you need energy for exercise, or energy for mental tasks, your body works best on things that give you clean energy, vital fluids, and organic live enzymes.

If you’re buying food grown in poor soil, or food that comes from plants grown in sterile ground, you don’t get trace minerals if they aren’t there in the first place. There’s no fusion there, so if it doesn’t have those minerals, there is no way to magically get them into the veggie without them being in the soil. Think about it. Plants can be fed to fruit – to flower and thus be harvested. But that’s like putting gas in a diesel engine. Like putting dirty clothes in the washer with no soap and expecting them to come out clean. OK, you got me there, I have done that.

If you are going to eat, you should make every bite count. Make it healthy. Make it vital.

Although I like to buy everything organic, I can’t find organic sometimes. If I can’t, and it’s on the Clean Fifteen list, I will buy it. Not so with the Dirty Dozen. I change the menu. Here’s the list (from EWG – Environmental Working Group):

Dirty Dozen:

1.       Celery

2.       Peaches

3.       Strawberries

4.       Apples

5.       Blueberries

6.       Nectarines

7.       Bell peppers

8.       Spinach

9.       Cherries

10.   Kale/collard greens

11.   Potatoes

12.   Grapes (imported)

Clean Fifteen:

1.       Onions

2.       Avocado

3.       Sweet corn

4.       Pineapple

5.       Mangoes

6.       Sweet peas

7.       Asparagus

8.       Kiwifruit

9.       Cabbage

10.   Eggplant

11.   Cantaloupe

12.   Watermelon

13.   Grapefruit

14.   Sweet potatoes

15.   Honeydew melon

So why would I buy something organic from the list below? Because I also want to consider the workers and the soil they’re grown in. Do we harm others with growing with pesticides? Yes, it’s not always about what I’m putting in my mouth. It’s what else was impacted by my buying the item. Do the banana bags laden with pesticides end up in the river? Do the growers have to wear masks? Then it’s organic for me. We all should be thinking about the consequences of our actions as much as we can.

Eating seasonally and locally helps that too. Imagine planting a lovely sage in your backyard. It’s cold and wet. Sage doesn’t like it. It doesn’t grow well. It wants more sun and less water. It’s not happy, it’s not healthy. It gets bugs. It rots, and dies.  Eat food that’s happy where it’s grown, and not picked before it is ripe and trucked or flown hundreds or thousands of miles.  It’s more vital, and it will feel better when you eat it. I won’t go into the idea of planting when the moon is waxing and harvesting when it wanes, but cycles are important to our bodies, in the same way we wake in the morning and sleep at night.

Taken with my camera through the telescope!

Sorry, shift workers, you tend to have your own special problems that are not just physical. Shift working (Nurses Study) showed that working opposite this impacted people far more than just having your body working opposite the normal cycle. It also affects socialization, communication, depression, and a whole host of other processes, not just metabolism.

When I get up at my cabin north of Willits, I walk outside and pick fresh blueberries. Then I saunter (depending on what I’m wearing) down to the vegetable beds and check for any fresh strawberries. If there aren’t any, I may have a cherry tomato or two. Lunch can be a cucumber salad, or tabouli, with fresh parsley and tomato, with lemon juice from freshly picked lemons. With weather in the 90’s lately, I rarely turn on the stove (I may grill something outside), so an enormous salad with feta cheese and kalamata olives hits the spot. I walk around the house visiting various herbs for a snip of this or that. Parsley, cilantro, fennel, sage, marjoram, thyme, sorrel (yum) all go into my salads. I think tonight it'll be kale salad with lemon and feta and pine nuts. I find that there is no slowing me down when I eat like this.   

Wildlife in Mendocino County

Taking in the wildlife here has always been my favorite thing to do. There is always some animal, vegetable, or mineral that fascinates me. Here is a collection of some wildlife and...'dead' things too.                                                        

This is a salmonid (sal-MON-id). We have the last wild run of coho salmon in the state. We've tried to help them recover by shading the river to keep the water temp down by planting willow. The biggest problem is water hauling, where trucks back up to the river and load up their trucks. The flows decline and water gets warmer. Then there are the bullfrog tadpoles. They're like hungry black tennis balls. But slimy.

This monster is the biggest praying mantis I've ever seen. Godzilla size. It was as big as a Cadillac. OK, maybe 6"? It sat on the ground just over the edge of the porch, and at the entrance to a hive of ground-dwelling bees. As the bees came up from the hole, this mantis would grab them quickly with a front limb, and bite its head off. Maybe grab two, eating one while the other one struggled. Creepy. 

These guys were just jumping for joy, what can you say? They just are so happy to be alive. Actually, it's a mini-trampoline I built for them, and they jump on it all day long.

Again, lies! They love to sit on the screen when the door's open and catch a breeze, it's so lovely. Sometimes I tickle their toes. I love the blue bellies. Sometimes they chase each other but it's too hot and eventually they just stop and catch the breeze.

I also wonder if maybe they're up there to avoid being eaten by Mr. Kingsnake. 

The boys hangin' out. There are 5 in this picture, but one took off. We don't know where, but he came back for a bit, everyone was happy to see him, and then he took off again. Geldings, so don't go there. Rio will sit peaceably with them until someone catches him doing so. Then he'll bark at them as if they're a threat. He doesn't fool us. Last week two of them crossed in front of my open doors at 6:30am and scared me half to death. I thought it was a bear. If I had made any noise, they would have bolted. I wish there was some clover for them, but it's all dried up. They go down to the pond for water.

This is my boy Rio. Not mine, really, but mine anyway. I love him. He's so sweet. He's wearing the sweater I knit for him. He said he really likes it. But only when it's really cold out. He also said it's a little itchy but he likes it 'cause I made it. And maybe also because I always give him biscuits. He rolls over for me whenever he wants one. Also for salmon skin, leftover meat, salad, veggies, just about anything edible. Or inedible. Occasionally I'll be working outside and have caught him chewing on a deer leg. The hoof will be sticking up in the air over his head. He didn't kill the deer, they're really old bones, but he likes them anyway. He doesn't get to kiss me after that. 

He's had some arthur-itis lately. May be Lyme Disease. He's gotten a remedy or two, we'll see how he does.

These two little babies were found hopping around the back of the house, almost were dinner for Mr. Kingsnake. The moms were very upset. But maybe it was a dad and mom, and they were siblings. I couldn't tell, but every time I put one of them in the nest I concocted, the other would flop out, a 10' drop. Eventually I settled on my wooden salad bowl, and the sides are too slippery, they couldn't get out. I left them on top of the ladder on the porch (so no other critters could get to them). I left a note in case CalFire came to check my fire abatement work. When I came back, they'd fledged. They were so cute. 

They'd screech if I picked them up, but once I closed my hand around them, they were happy. I sprayed this one with Arnica because I thought she must have fallen out of the nest. Then I found the nest on the ground, and realized both babies probably fell from some height. 

The parents get lots of bird food. I wonder if I'm not messing with the population, feeding them all the nijer seed. Finch-pigs. Pig-finches? They are ravenous, but I love to hear their little tiffs about who gets what perch.

I think these are Swifts. Not sure. They've got a crest across their chests, and come to check out the insect population on my front meadow. I don't see them very often. I've seen Mergansers, though, playing with the bullfrog tadpoles. Now that I'd love to get on video. It's like a cat playing with a mouse. Then all of the sudden, it throws the tadpole in the air and swallows it, like a kid catching peanuts. 

This poor baby had a run-in with the garage. Not sure how. Maybe trying to get in the small windows? Such pretty colors. The ants hadn't come to deconstruct yet. Every once in awhile I hear a thud and check for birds outside the house, with my trusty Arnica spray in hand. Often they're fine and I don't even see them. 

Not sure how I got so many quail in one picture without one head showing. I guess they got some good eats. They're like little round footballs. They certainly look well fed. Maybe it's all the compost I bury. I bury it in the open so the bear won't get it. Someday in a few decades, I may have better soil, but now it's mostly clay.

These toms really are teenagers. They act just like kids at recess. In this picture, though, they saw a hen coming their way. They perked up immediately and stopped the shenanigans. She paid no attention, and went on her way. 

I hope these weren't the guys that slept in my lavender and oregano. They really destroyed my plants. It wasn't all bad, they left some fertilizer.

This baby is just amazing. It's wingspan was about 5" and it has a face that will give you nightmares. It's called  Cecropia moth, normal range is only west to the Rockies, certainly not all the way out in California. Hyalophora cecropia. What a beauty. 

Well, that's it for now. I have to find my camera again. So many things at which to marvel. 

So I Was Wrong

So I was wrong after all. It wasn't the pollen. It was 95 degrees F (35C) every single day for a week. The series wiring of the solar panels indicated only half the panels were powering the system off and on during the hottest part of the day. I flipped all the switches off and all back on again, et voila! power to the batteries once more. The insulation on the wiring must be melting on the roof inside the conduit.

Satan's Bolete (poisonous!)

I noticed today while folding laundry how many of my pieces of clothing have battery acid holes in them. My Jost Van Dyke dress from Foxy's (BVI) has a hole in the most embarrassing place. I moved a pocket on a pair of pants. Many of my towels look like someone neatly cut holes in them. A shirt I wore Tuesday to clinic has a little eye-shaped hole right near the hem. Most of them have been tossed, so I don't get sad when I see them. Others stay in the drawers in the cabin so I can still enjoy them, even if I can't wear them in public.

A few weeks ago I took a hike in my pajama shorts and a T. I rarely see anyone up on the roads, and the construction work is done. You can hear a car pretty far away, so I'm usually safe. Flip-flops are fine unless we go down the back side of the ridge, Fawn Rd. That's bear country, and feral pig country, and all the other countries. If you need to run, you want shoes. Although, I think bears, mountain lions, and feral pigs can all run faster than me in my trail shoes. Mushroom country, par excellance. Don't have to run from them! Coffee cup in hand, Rio and I took it all in.

These are Coccora mushrooms - they grow like hard boiled eggs until they get too big. Then they sprout up to tall tan stipes with dried egg white on their caps. My sister Ronalee and I had a huge haul. Delicious when sauteed in butter or oil and garlic. Bad year for them last year, and King Boletes too. Good for Chanterelles and Black Trumpets. Puffballs came and went and we didn't notice them till too late.

Psilocybe (sil-AH-so-bee). Bought a Psilocybe book and my son finally found it..."MOM!!" Hey, I'm just lookin'!

Taking A Walk

I woke up this morning realizing I hadn’t turned the hot water heater off its vacation setting. It’s been 90° out every day, so by the time I take a shower around 5 or 6pm, it’s plenty hot. The problem is that the pump runs all night to keep the temperature balanced between the roof and tank when it's on vacation setting. But remembering the kingsnake back there by the pump made me reluctant to go find a flashlight and change the setting. So hopping out of bed in the morning, I headed out back in my underclothes. It’s too hot to sleep in much during the summer, and I think I may need a ceiling fan soon. The adobe floor keeps it cool, but circulation when the air is still would help. I situated the house so I can take advantage of the Bernoulli effect. 

Next, up on the roof. I couldn’t figure out why the batteries weren’t fully charged with such long days. I saw the daily kWh on the meter was only 1.7kWh, normally 3.0 this time of the year. When I looked at other parameters, I saw at 2pm yesterday that the voltage coming into the system was only 75 at 3 amps. Checking the battery charger, it followed the 24v system had 9v going in. Which meant it had to be the panels. I remembered (and should have written it down) that the voltage from the panels is usually about 87, or something like that, in full sun. Yesterday was too hot, and the roof even more so. I have to hoist myself from the porch roof to the house roof, and it’s about chest height. Invariably I end up with scratch marks on my belly from either going up or coming down.

This morning I didn’t bring my cell. I was in my pjs, after all. Nowhere to stow it. I usually bring it because if I knock the ladder down, I will have a way to call someone to come help me. Just a thought; put a rope around the top of the ladder, and tie it to the porch roof! Otherwise, I’d probably break a leg trying to get down. Up I went, while the coffee water was heating up. Of course! There was pollen all over the panels. DOH! Down I went, grab a mop, spray with water, clean the panels, and voila! 87volts again! I love it when that happens.

Sunset, same vista

Next, over to friends’ house to pick up Rio. My sweetie. He’s always happy to see me. They leave him in the pen till I get here and we walk back together. He’s such a great protector, even when you don’t need it. Yesterday, on a walk down to the river to check out the new graded road, I kept hearing rustling in the hill above us, about 50’ away. Rio stopped, so did I. I put my arm on my friend’s arm, and looked in the direction of the noise. I could see the brown shape, still making noise. It was Baby Bear! She’d been spotted in the area, and I had small bite marks in my plastic soil bag in the last month. The plastic shows a good impression of the size and tooth development, one bite slightly larger than the first; the earlier one had no toothmarks! For some reason, the bears like to bite the bag. A few times it’s been claws ripping it open, when it’s on the ground.

Rio started barking at her, and ran at her. We turned around and hightailed it back up the hill, all the while calling Rio. He finally came, thank goodness. I didn't remember till later I wolf whistled for him, he knows my call. He came running. Normally he’d have a shock collar on so he doesn’t harass the wild horses. This is a necessary evil, as he’s been kicked numerous times, and the last time had a $600 gash in his side, skin flapping loosely from it. Today we’d been planning on a swim, and knowing he’d be first in the water, it wasn’t feasible.  

Of course, my bear spray, normally always in my backpack (I think more because I’m afraid of the feral pigs) was on the counter, acting as a bookmark. It all turned out well though. The only need for it would have been if the dog and bear had engaged. Thankfully it didn’t happen. And I didn't lose my place in my book. 

As I left the house, walking up the drive, I heard woodpeckers nearby. I stopped to listen (and check my pulse! Normally 55 or so, it shoots up to 160 going up the drive because I walk fast). It sure sounded like Morse code. It really did. The eerie thing was that within 30 seconds, a second woodpecker answered only 50’ away. They conversed for a few minutes. It was very funny. Time to head back now, it’s 77 and only 10am!

STR  (Swallowtail Ranch) Berries 

Swallow Tail Revisited

The last time I wrote a blog, I let it sit in my computer for a month before I finally got around to posting it today. In the meantime, so much has happened. I realized I can post PICTURES. I posted one of the many I take from my door, taken May 15^th of this year for my last blog. It snowed about an inch. Yes, in the middle of May. Amazing!

Today, I had some wonderful things happen too. I found all my strawberries were huge and ripe AT THE SAME TIME and that no mice had eaten anything. I think the holes in the hardware cloth are too small for banana slugs, which I’ve only seen this year, twice. The second wonderful thing was that my carrots were perfect. They are sweet and huge, and perfectly formed,  if you count looking like they have two legs. That’s OK, they taste great. Well, they’d taste even better if they were grown outside. But for some reason, they don’t grow outside. They either get eaten by the mice before they get a second set of petals, or they never thrive. So they grow in two big tubs in the greenhouse.

Since I’m dogsitting today, I brought my stuff to my neighbor’s house and realized I’d forgotten something. I took one of the dogs for a nice long walk back to my house and picked it up; it only took 2 hours. We had to stop and look at a dead snake along the way. The snake I’ll hopefully remember to post the picture with this post. At first, coming upon it in the road, it looked like something I’d never seen before. It was like a San Francisco-style tiled bathroom, black and white. I thought, ‘a new snake, I can name it!’ Of course, Tile snake would have been my choice. Unfortunately, when I rolled it over, I discovered it was a king snake, with half the body missing

Half a dead kingsnake, upside down

. Normally they're brown and white and black on the top. Who knew they were ‘tiled’ on the underside?

Driving up the windy road to get to my place last year, I saw a crow carrying a live king in its beak, and the snake was at least 3’ long. Stopping the car to watch, he started picking at it immediately. How the mighty have fallen! We are so careful to avoid the rattlesnake, welcome the king, and curse the crow for different reasons. But they’re all connected by the food chain. Once I grabbed my camera and ran out the sliding glass doors to my house, intending to catch the large king slithering across the front yard. In my haste, I neglected to slide the door shut. Of course, the king decided to visit my cabin.

Which reminded me of the time we lost our boa. We couldn’t find it anywhere. Our apartment in college had a screened-in porch and our friends wouldn’t come to visit unless they could see Euripides in the enclosure. But on any given day, he could be found around the house. When I studied, I’d sit at the dining room table. He’d happily wrap himself around me, and sit with his head on top of mine. So he wasn’t affectionate like a dog, but I could tell he cared. One day, friends were coming over and we couldn’t find him. We looked everywhere. Flashes of snakes coming out of toilets crossed my mind. I searched every room, knowing a snake that big couldn’t just disappear, he was huge.  As I lay in bed that night, I kept thinking about where I hadn’t looked. Where could he be? You can’t hide a snake that big. What made me think of it, I don’t know. I jumped out of bed and lifted the mattress. There he was, comfortably coiled up at the head of our bed. Our pillows masked the telltale lump that would have shown up otherwise. But Mr. King decided he didn’t like the cold floor so much, and slithered back out to the garden, where he lost himself in the lamb’s ears and lavender.  That’s the last time I ever left the door open while I ran out.

What? WHAT? Do I have something on my face?

Once in camp, I remember finding a dead snake I carried around for days. It was soft and silvery, like mercury. It was so pretty, about 8” long. I didn’t show it to anyone, in fear they’d make me throw it away. I’d just take it out and admire it from time to time.

This isn’t what I started out to write about, but there it is. When I sit down to write, it often occurs to me that writing blogs is so self-centered. Talking about oneself is rather vain, and it seems like you’re pointing to yourself and saying, ‘look at me.’ So as much as I chastise myself for not posting more, I’m battling the feeling of vanity.

As I wrote the previous blog, I got about halfway across my field of vision, to my vegetable beds, which face south. I wrote of my view from east to south, so I should continue the journey, I think. The broad expanse of meadow in front of me is often taken over by various animals at different times of the day, and during different seasons. Sometimes, and most often, it’s deer. Many times during the day, off and on, different species of birds comb the grasses for insects and seeds. We have quail that look like little footballs, which have now taken to nesting in the oak branches that never got cut. The chainsaw has remained stored in the garage, out of the rain. Again, rain stops my outside activity. The grass has grown 3’ since I last whacked it. I’m getting burrs on my pants  (OK, pajama pants). Nothing like turning over in bed an landing on a burr. Or doing your laundry and ending up with burrs in your underthings, which is always the case. They seem to have DNA that leads them to imbed themselves on things that stay warm and close to human bodies.

Ronalee's Sage broken by gophers!

The gophers have really done a number on the front yard in the last month. Holes everywhere, deep under the house. This is what first drew me to try to eliminate them from the immediate area around the house. I stuck a piece of rebar over 4’ down into a whole behind my grapevines. One, a California red grapevine, is in a gopher cage, the other a Concord, is not. For some reason, they haven’t touched them. This is shocking. They ate my sage, they ate the miner’s lettuce, they ate the tulips, the hollyhock, the ceanothus. Last year the grapes sat there without being touched by the gopher or the birds. I have to wonder what’s wrong with them. Or what’s wrong with the grapes? Even the bear, leaving a few muddy prints on the siding next to the front door (he always comes to the front door, never the sliding glass doors), with blueberry bushes a foot from the door, untouched! I’m not complaining, mind you, just shocked. Since I rescued the baby finches, they've left their marks on the teak charis on the porch. It won't be long before they find the berries. They come for water after the drip system has run, when the afternoon shade has spread and the heat has been swept away on the breeze. I guess it's OK, as long as I feed them seed, they'll leave me some berries.

cream-colored California Poppies

Of course, we did have 95° weather here after the snow, so the berries got a little dried out. They look rather shriveled. I’ll have to reinstall the drip system. Another task on my to-do list. And in case you’re wondering, the second dog is a nearly blind dachshund that won’t budge unless you give her treats. It would have been three hours there and back if she’d come along. Coyote bait!

SwallowTail Ranch

Here I sit at the computer on the kitchen island in my cabin. It’s been raining for 5 days straight, with no break in sight. I think of all the things I need to get done, and get antsy to go outside. The only break was Thursday for about an hour. I ran out, intending to cut up a few large oak branches trimmed from over the solar panels on the roof, but don’t want to make so much noise with the baby finches nesting over my front door, close to the branches. As I face south, I see to my left, the front door and my porch, facing east. The beautiful oaks and the distant mountains give me a long distance view that is calming. Sometimes I catch wildlife creeping up over the hill to munch on the wild clover or bugs on my front hillside. They don’t seem to be fazed by me, even when I move. But noise will send them racing away. Occasionally I hear a thump, and run to the door, expecting to see a finch on its back. Often they fly on, but sometimes I must spray them with Arnica in water, and they soon are back on the wing.

This is my fault. I meant to move the finch feeder onto the porch to keep the bear from eating the seeds. I thought also, it would keep the food dry. Instead, I hear that sickening thud every day, maybe twice.  The thought also crossed my mind that the mother finch feeding her babies would have less distance to travel to get her own sustenance. I hear their little peeps when I approach the front door, but they become quiet when I make any noise. It takes every ounce of restraint to not get the ladder and peek into their I-beam home.

The finches have presented another problem, with their new feeder position on the porch. Every time I walk by the windows or front door, they scatter. And they scatter seed, as well, all over the porch, and on the furniture. Not that I mind, but it is very attractive to the bears. I’ve already seen 3 large plops of bear scat (and I’m sorry, but scat makes it sound little, or light - not so! Huge and heavy this time of the year). One was in the driveway, just past the front door. This done in full view of my door, and he obviously felt comfortable enough to do so the first time, with my windows and doors open a few weeks ago. His meal for that visit was Manzanita berries growing just behind the house. He’s never been so bold before. Usually his visits are obvious only when I return. He especially likes to open bags of soil for me. Once there was a bite mark in a bag sitting about 2 or 3’ off the ground. The top had perfect puncture marks from his upper jaw, and the bottom had the tiny jaw marks of the lower. Now I wish I’d taken a picture.

The bear has learned that if he swats at the motion sensor for the flood light when he visits at night, it doesn’t come on. This may be a coincidence, but I wonder. Often when I come up here, I see the only thing moved is the sensor and the bird feeder a foot away; light fixture and solar panel are still exactly where I left them, pointing in the proper direction to light my way from the greenhouse to the front porch.

Of course, the finches’ home also precludes me from having a fire in my brass fireplace on the porch. The smoke rises, as does the heat, and seeking the highest point, in the endcap of the porch; she and her offspring would be very unhappy with me. So I bide my time, freezing inside, with no sun to warm the adobe floor, and not wanting to use the radiant heat this late in the week. The thermal water heater on the roof isn’t warm enough (no sun for that either) to warm the water for the floor either, I’ll just wear thick socks and wrap myself in my home-spun blanket if I get cold.

It is cold, too cold to spin. My fingers are a little stiff unless I’m typing or knitting, or maybe cooking. I hold my morning coffee with both hands, not my usual mode. It occurs to me I like to see how far I can take myself, out of my comfort zone. Here it is June, and we still are looking at low 50’s during the day, less than 40° at night.  One can try to imagine the annoying heat of 100° weather coming in a few months, but it doesn’t really help now.

With the passive solar design of the house, in the winter, when the sun is low, the house gets plenty of sun (low on the horizon) into the large sliding glass doors facing south. It hit’s the floor, a thermal brown mass (adobe) and retains the heat until the air inside cools down, then radiates warmth at a constant rate. During the summer, the sun rises almost perfectly through the east-facing front door, shaded at the far end of the porch with a bamboo shade, and heads directly over the roof, so no sun comes in the windows. This keeps the house cool, and screens all the way around allow a breeze from the cooler valley below, to keep things moving.

This house was well designed, but not appreciated right away. As I’ve come to realize, it took a lot of forethought to design it in this way, but all I saw was the leaks in the roof. I should have known, when the contractor gave me a case of huge tubes of caulk, there was something amiss. I’m still waiting for him to fix it, five years on. But I’m grateful for the security and safety it affords, and the peaceful landscape and beautiful views I enjoy. But hey, let’s warm it up a little.