THE SPRING YARD

Come April, we gardeners pull on our overalls, don our muck boots, grab our rakes, hoes, and tiller and head to the plot of soil we call our garden. Whether your plot is large or small it makes no difference, those garden visions that have been harbored all winter long can now be brought to life. Here in Southern Maine the weather has felt more like May than April. At Dog Trot Farm we seem to be ahead of the game as far as spring chores go. The lawn has been raked of it's winter debris and today was the first mowing. Gardens have been tilled and peas planted. Well, peas were planted along with lettuce, carrots and dill until someone who shall remain nameless(Gladys) decided scratching in the new tilled soil was much more pleasurable than joining in the communal bath with her sisters. Gladys has also discovered a new diversion, pulling laundry of the clothesline. Fortunately for me she has not been successful, yet.

Alas, seeds have been replanted and netting was secured around the perimeter of the raised bed garden. This will keep certain fowl out of trouble and aid in climbing peas and certain flowers.

A new arbor has been installed,
and these bright and cheerful pansies just had to come home with me, they practically jumped into my shopping bag.

When planted in this festive teacup planter, they can't help but put a smile on your face. Flowers have a magical power all their own and I am so happy these chose to come home with me.

As for Norman the gnome, well he has been repositioned to the back woods. Norman will spend his days waiting and watching for the summer fairies to arrive. I do believe there is magic in those woods, I guess I'll just have to wait and see.

THE YELLOW BLOOM

DAFFODILS

IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BRIGHTEN MY HOURS,

JUST BRING ME A BUNCH OF YELLOW FLOWERS.

ALL I NEED TO ERASE MY GLOOM, IS THE

FRAGRANCE OF FLOWERS WITH A YELLOW BLOOM.

~M. TRIBBY~ (AND MY GIRL GLADYS!)

JULIA CHILD IN MAINE

Seeing the words "Julia Child In Maine" on the March issue of Down East magazine caught my eye. One summer after World War II, Julia McWilliams along with her then beau Paul Child visited the Child's family at Mountain Desert Island, Maine. It was an opportunity for Julia to meet Paul's family who at the time were in the process of building a rustic cabin, located on the quiet side of the island. It was long before Julie became "Julia", the kitchen icon. On September 1, 1946 Julia and Paul were married and when time and schedules allowed they returned to the Island as often as possible. While in Maine the couple pitched in with the completion of the cabin, took walks through the woods, hiked, fished, sailed and enjoyed summer weeks with family in Maine. In 1959 the now famous "Julia Child" would visit the local market in Southwest Harbor regularly and these visits continued right up to the mid 1990's. This plot of land in Maine held a special place in Julia's heart. Upon her death in 2004 at the age of 91, some of Julia's ashes were spread near the family cabin on the Island. Acadia National Park in my opinion is one of the most special places on this earth and after reading this article, I see Julia would agree with me.

SPRING

Sky shining blue.... Temperature hovers above eighty-two....
Colors of Spring bursting forth....
Ruffled petals delight the eye.... Feathered friends finding homes to call their own....
While others share in the delight of the day....

Dancing about having their way.....

Some are grateful to be standing on their feet

All rush over to the meet and greet....

Norman the gnome I think they shall like....

as he bids them all hello and shares in their delight!

FROM ONE MOTHER TO ANOTHER

Thank you dear blog friend's for your kind comments and concerns in regards to my dear hen Charlotte. She is on the mend and recovering quite nicely. Her limp appears gone and wing seems fine as she is once again able to fly to perches and to roost. The incident however, caused such a state of stress amongst the girls that their egg production has dropped off dramatically. Can't say as I blame them, I too would be a nervous Nelly. I am still in awe over the fact that Charlotte not only survived the incident, but found her way home. Who ever said chickens were dumb did not know what they were talking about! I will keep you all posted if Charlotte decides to switch teams and becomes a rooster. One of my blog readers revealed that this did indeed occur with one of her hen's who had survived an incident similar to Charlotte's. Take about amazing chickens! First outing after the incident Winslow Homer the hero dog remained close at hand. The girls did not wander far from the backyard and remained close together. I did notice more "chirping" amongst them and any out of the ordinary sound or movement prompted the girls to scramble together, remain silent and cautious.

So this is what it has come down to, me toting a gun. My cousin Eve would be proud of me I'm sure. The first time I held a weapon was at Eve's home in New York. I did not think my hand was ever going to quit shaking. I just am not the gun toting type, but I do respect responsible gun owners. Seeing me sitting in my reading chair with a gun was cause for a good laugh. ( "Mom, you'll shoot your eye out!") Mrs. Fox has indeed reappeared and Winslow Homer did swing into action as I flew around scurrying the girls into their coop. I need to confess mama fox is a real beauty, healthy, stunning coat with a cry to match. Now, I don't intend to kill or mame her ( as if I could) I just want to scare her off. I realize she is just trying to provide for her kits, but I sure would like for us to come to some sort of agreement- she remains on her side of the field and my girls remain on theirs! Sounds reasonable doesn't it?

EASTER BLESSINGS

The table was set, brunch in the oven, family arriving.... Easter baskets for the ladies and chocolate bunnies for the men folk.......

And look what appeared from the Easter Bunny for me, a charming little fellow holding a rooster. Thank you mom, I just love him.

A beautiful sunny day enjoyed by all. From my home to yours, Easter blessings.

AMAZING CHICKENS!

First, I must start at the beginning. Last night I watched a program on PBS about people and their amazing chickens. The first story told of a chicken named Valerie and her owner Janet Bonney, who resided in Harpswell, Maine. In February of 1995 Janet found her hen under the front porch of her home frozen. Janet brought the chicken inside and attempted to place her into a shoe box for burial. Valerie being so stiff that her leg's would not bend - Janet began to warm her body slowly with a hot water bottle. After fifteen minutes of doing so Janet noticed the little hen take a breath. For the next three hours Janet warmed the little hen's body and gave mouth to mouth resuscitation. I promise this is true! Once completely warmed Valerie stood, clucked and decided she was no worse for wear. Over time Janet did state that the once scraggly hen evolved into a beauty and noticed the pecking order in the hen house had consequently changed in Valerie's favor.
Next was the story of Mike the rooster who lived 4 1/2 years without a head. His story began in the 1940's as told in Life and Time magazines and holds a place in the Guinness book of world records. Mike was intended for the soup pot. His owner chopped his head off, but Mike ran around the barnyard as chicken do, but Mike simply would not die! Seeing Mike's determination to stay alive his owner provided food and water via an eye dropper. Mike was given constant care however, died after chocking on a kernel of corn when his owner had forgotten the eye dropper. Scientist determined Mike survived because his brain stem had been kept intact and also from the quality of care provided by the family. Now my story. The photo below is the posture of a hen who knows danger is lurking. Tail feathers out, neck stretched, intently listening.
Today, the weather was perfect: sunny and warm. The girls were let loose and enjoying the day running around the yard. Winslow Homer and I were in the backyard too. The girls were just slightly behind their coop. All too quickly circumstances changed, a cluck turned into an all out warning, feathers flying and girls scrambling. A fox snatched not one, but two of my girl's! I could not believe what I was seeing, the fox began dragging both Buffs across to the next field, but eventually did drop one, Iris. My heart sank as I watched the fox leave with Charlotte in it's mouth and eventually out of my sight. How did this happen? The day being so perfect, I was right there, but yet saw and heard nothing until it was too late. Winslow by this time was on the run, back tracked around the field in the direction of the fox and deep into our woods.

Poor sweet Charlotte, I felt I had let her down I was unable to rescue her.

It made me ill to see her beautiful feathers scattered about. I hoped her demise was overly quickly. Winslow returned and the fox circled around and eventually disappeared. I gathered the girls and put them in their pen. A sense of sadness filled the air. I sat outdoors with the girls for awhile offering extra treats, reassuring them things would be okay. A neighbor happened to stop by after he had encountered Winslow running through the field and wondered if something was wrong. I explained what had occurred. He felt bad as he too has chickens, but stated that he does not let them free range. I now need to think twice about that. We mulled over the situation and then said our "good luck" and "goodbyes". I gathered my gardening supplies before heading indoors for dinner when just over by the back of the house and protected by the lilacs...........................

I saw a Buff. "Honey one of the hens is loose", but wait a minute, I counted combs and to my amazement all nine hens were in their pen, how could this possibly be? I saw that fox take my girl in her mouth and carry her across the field deep into the woods.

But it is true she is alive! Lost a lot of feathers, one wing is sore, and she limps, but she is alive! Somehow she escaped the wrath of that fox and had the fortitude to travel in the right direction home, home to the safety of her pen and her sister's. Charlotte is my amazing chicken.
Now, I realize what you are thinking that this is April Fool's Day, but this is a true story, a true story with a happy ending. It also happens to be the birthday of my late maternal grandmother and she too loved chickens. I told my girl's, girl's you have a guardian angel watching over you, thank you Grammy Lile. Of course it doesn't hurt to have Winslow Homer on your side!

NOT YOUR ORDINARY HIKE

This view of the White Mountains of New Hampshire was not, I repeat, was not easily obtained. It took all my strength and determination to reach this point in our Saturday morning hike.

I shall begin from the beginning. Exercise we all know aids in our mental health and well being. With that in mind DH and I decided it would be a perfect day for a hike. Okay, it was my idea. We headed for Douglas Mountain which is a relatively short driving distance from our home. Forty minutes later we deposited our parking fee in the honor system box and began our trek along with a group of pre-teens and their chaperon who had arrived the same time as we. Off to the woods we travailed, birds singing, kid's happy voices in the air and Winslow Homer trotting along (still hacking from his kennel cough). We had hiked thirty minutes or so when we approached a stream. The setting was oh so picturesque. I watched as the group of kids now ahead of us mastered the moss covered rocks. They all scampered across as only kids can do, their chaperon not far behind. I approached the rocks with the same intent, but when my feet hit those moss covered rocks, I ended up ass end in the stream. My brain couldn't fathom what had just occurred, but my derriere and shoulder sure knew. All I could hear was "oh honey" DH hauled me out of the water and checked me over making sure I was indeed okay. I was, just stunned and wet. Not only were those rocks mossy, but ice covered. I elected to keep going on. A second attempt ended in the same results. Now my feet are slogging around in my hiking boots, steam rising out of my gloves, and my lined jeans are beginning to stiffen. With much encouragement from DH (and I mean much) I endured. The kids ahead of us kept asking if I was okay, and their chaperon offered me her long underwear,( there are still kind people in this world) I knew if I kept moving I would stay warm, warm but wet. I did decline the long underwear but agreed to join their group. The chaperon took me aside and informed me her kid's wanted to keep an eye on me. What a sight I was. An hour later we made it to the summit of Douglas Mountain. Thank you God. We all climbed the stone tower, took the photo, enjoyed a few minutes of conversation, I thanked everyone, and quickly made the descent down, straight down as in the route with the least amount of hazards and no flowing water over ice covered mossy rocks!

There was a reason hidden in my brain why I never wore these hiking boots and it was not till I had them on my feet and my butt in the stream that I remembered: they are "slippery soled" and now most surely a hazard to my physical well being

I think the boots will be much better served as a planter. I will plant "hens and chickens" in them this spring and place them on our stonewall for all to enjoy. I now am in the market for new hiking boots anyone have any suggestions? Let me just state it is never dull here at Dog Trot Farm and I have the black and blues to prove it!

ALL IN A DAY

To aid in my mental health I decided to venture outdoors with the girls today hoping to make more progress in the task of uncovering my perennial beds. There is something about fresh air and warm dirt under your fingers that just makes "ya" feel good. My good intentions however, did not last long as it was just too "dang" cold, but the girls didn't seem to mind. I decided progress could be made indoors doing laundry. I really don't mind doing laundry, but my washers and dryer are in the "cellar" and one of the drawbacks of having the laundry in the cellar is the telephone always seems to ring every time I head down those stair. Today however, I clipped the phone to the back of my jeans. ( best tip I ever read from Martha Stewart is to own two washers). I continued about my day and completely forgot about the location of the phone. Laundry got completed, bed sheets got changed, dishwasher emptied. I was on a roll. I decided to keep progress moving and do a little baking. While working in the kitchen I enjoy background noise and lately it is to the sound of Sweet Henny Penny. Today however, she was out with her sisters so I turned on the television. Well low and behold a blast from the past, Little House On The Prairie. Okay, I admit it I had a thing for Charles Ingalls. I really was not paying much attention to the show, but did over hear Caroline informing Charles that she was pregnant. Later on I caught the words being said by Dr. Baker "Caroline you are not pregnant, but going through "the change". Oh my Lord, they actually did an episode with Caroline Ingalls going through "the change"? I couldn't believe what I was hearing, was this being aired just for my well being? Just then I became startled by the phone ringing, what did I do with the phone? I ran around the house looking- I knew it was close at hand but where? Okay, so I figured it out (doh!) when I sat down to indulge in a glass of milk and a Toll House Marble Square. I reminded myself if Caroline Ingalls can make it through this phase in her life why can't I? With that being said I am never bringing this subject up again. Nor am I going to clip the phone to my back side, it will just have to ring!

"OUT OF SORTS"

I returned home from vacation and something strange happened, I did not feel like myself. Oh I was glad to be home and so happy to see my feathered friends and Winslow and Emma too. I couldn't quite put my finger on this feeling, just felt off. Then I looked at my reading material, which by the way says it all. Dang, I'm even beginning to think I resemble this women on the book cover. I do need help. Now lets see, my symptoms are- feeling tired, lack of interest, I have been dragging myself to greet the girls each morning, (highly unusual for this chicken loving mama ) Have had no desire to blog or even read blogs (what is wrong with me). My head feels like "fluff" and I can't remember a thing (" honey have you seen my glasses"?) Oh and anything made with sugar would be my food of choice. Now, here is the most important clue, night sweats and sleeplessness. I figure If you add these symptoms together you come up with "MENOPAUSE". All you ladies of a certain age please reassure me that this is going to end before I kill myself or someone kills me! Honey, I know you love me and yes you are a very patient man. Ladies is there light at the end of the tunnel? Enough said. Even Winslow Homer has been out of sorts. The kennel cough has lasted longer than we had anticipated, Winslow keeps praying it will leave him soon. "Hang in there buddy."
This morning I jumped out of bed to greet the day. Sleeping in my new "chicken lounging pants" did put a smile on my face.

I came downstairs to be greeted by my new chicken friends, which did make me feel happier.
One can never have enough chicken friends you know. Went outside and began digging in the dirt, oh the feeling of warm soil in your hands can't help but make ya feel happy.

Having chickens is good mental therapy. Chickens are always ready to listen
and do not hesitate to offer an opinion.

chickens are always good company, plain and simple.

and the rewards, priceless.
I do believe I feel better after writing this post, thank you and goodnight!

OBSERVATIONS

Here at Dog Trot Farm life is trying to resume it's normal flow. Let me just state there are circumstances standing in the way. First, a trip this morning to the veterinarian's office. It seems Winslow Homer has come down with a case of kennel cough. We left the vet's office with antibiotics in hand and my purse a little lighter (no a lot lighter). Second, Henny Penny now has a featherless back. She has been Blu-Koted and returned to the indoor five star accommodations. I know she is enjoying this living situation regardless of the humiliation it brings her. Now it appears Gladys and Lucy have decided to don the "naked neck" chicken look, let me just state this is not a fashion statement I want my girl's to promote. Why is it I wonder that Miss Georgia is the only one of my girl's with all her feathers intact?
Observations.
When you leave the State of Maine and head South one of the first things you observe is the abundance of billboard ads. Here in Southern Maine we have very few billboards, if any. I'd like to keep it that way. Billboards I have noticed can be quite diverse in their advertising, anything from sex to religion. Two ads I recall read " You don't need facebook to talk to God" and "Recession 101-self worth is more important than net worth". I thought these to be quite thought provoking. Both of these quotes in my opinion "hit the nail on the head". As you enter Pennsylvania you begin to see the three crosses in the landscape, which as most of you know represent the Father, Son and Holy Ghost. Also seen are billboard ads for fireworks. Big business this must be as everywhere you look from Pennsylvania on through to the South these signs clutter the scenery. Fireworks in the State of Maine are illegal. Once you enter Tennessee the advertising starts in earnest for the "all you can eat" buffet restaurants. Parking lots for these restaurants appeared full no matter what the time of day. More bang for the "buck" I would suspect, in this economy who wouldn't want to get their money's worth. More on observations coming tomorrow !

EVE, WHERE'S THE FIRE EXTINGUISHER?

"Home sweet home," sweet home Alabama that is. Cousin Eve does indeed live on a beautiful mountain top, her enchanted home is nestled among the woods.
This day brought sunshine and a warm breeze. I took the opportunity to try out Miss Morgan's swing,
and shared a walk through the woods with Miss Daisy Lu.
I was delighted to meet one of Eve's new friends, Krista. She informed me that this weather would indeed wake the rattle snakes up and get them moving. Yup, me with my Mary Jane's on. Thankfully, I did not encounter any snakes, scorpions or black widow spiders. I am a girl from the Northeast, we do not worry about such things, but if I had to I guarantee you I would be dressed in armor and the insect man would be my best friend!
Now, Miss Evie is a fantastic cook and quite a hostess. Her famous dish is pork loin cooked on the grill. She marinates her pork in a secret sauce (which I never did find out). As evening came Eve placed her loin on the grill, and we girl's do what we usually do when we are together, start talking about gardening. We began a tour of all her new and existing gardens, when her Hubby came running out the front door wanting to know where the fire extinguisher was! Not a good sign. It appeared the grill was on fire and her house soon to be. Thankfully Hubby found the fire extinguisher, the loin was charred to perfection and the grill, well lets just say I think a trip to Home Depot is in the near future. Hence the $160.00 dollar pork loin. $10.00 for the loin and $150.00 for the grill.

The meal was delicious and not soon to be forgotten. Thank you to Heath for not only saving the meal, but putting up with Eve's family from Maine. He is a kind and generous man. Tomorrow more adventures from the South and the saga of the "house sitters."

ON THE ROAD

See what a difference a day can make? Remember I mentioned in my last post the GREEN grass in my neighbor's back yard, well I spoke too soon- everything is white once again. Winter has returned with a vengeance. There is no turning back: the Thule is in position, the Copper Penny (my parents' vehicle) is packed to the gunnels
Sweet Henny Penny, I pray for your safety and promise upon my return the five star treatment will be at your disposal...

Georgia you had better behave or it's off with your head! I am not kidding.... I know someone out in blog land who has a recipe for lovely lemon roasted chicken. I'm just saying.....

Eggs have been collected and readied for travel....

You don't think I would leave the state of Maine without a loaf of my homemade cranberry banana bread? Who knows, we might become stranded by the side of the road in blizzard conditions, freezing to death and instead of gnawing on each other we will have bread, eggs, frozen scallops...

Our house sitters have been drilled.... when do you use the Blu-Kote? and who gets vinegar in their water?

Ready or not we are pointed in a Southerly direction.

If you really think about it, it's a lot of work to go on vacation...but ready or not here we go!