Spring garden projects

Tags

cool weather garden projects, fences, garden, home, home renovation, sod, Virginia, Virginia spring flowers

Old man winter finally moved out of my gardens, and two long-awaited updates took place this week. I invite you to sit back and enjoy the labors of others.

Despite manic weather, the months of March and April are always brightened by the smiling faces of my heirloom daffodils. These beauties that formerly went to market as revenue bouquets are now filling my home and herbaceous borders with color and scent. I retired the end of December and now wonder what life holds and whether the transition will be smooth. As long as I remain a homeowner, my “needy box” beckons.

The fifteen year old split rail fence developed issues last summer, when the center line post rotted off at the ground, causing a lean that had to go. Propped up for weeks this winter, I was glad to see my talented fence men arrive with a new post. Unfortunately, they brought the wrong post (a two-hole rather than a three-hole post) which required a return visit. While they were here, we examined the rails. We agreed that they also should be replaced. After they left, I spent some time on the phone with the West Virginia post manufacturer to file a claim under warranty. They did not warranty the rails, but the office approved a $50 credit towards the purchase of six new rails. That reduced my expense to $40. Good start!

Days later, while the two men removed the old post and rails, I enjoyed standing back with my camera. This same company built my “Great 90′ Privacy Wall” fence a few years back (see that blog), and they continue to make any effort look easy! The man on the right is the owner who has built fences since he was a boy, and now his son-in-law (seen left) is learning the ropes. Neither wear gloves, despite the rough, pressure treated timber.

The new line post and rails: Three of the six rails were not acceptable with obvious flaws for this highly visible location, and those will be replaced ASAP. At least the old, rotten timber is history. By the way, if you noticed the lichen covered privacy fence in the rear of this photo, it was built years ago by my neighbor who is a juggler not a fence builder…and it shows. The “Great Privacy Wall” fence you see in the background below, was built in 2015 by these professionals seen above.

Meanwhile, the “Slope from Hell”, is finally getting sod. For the past 22 years, I tried many plants and perennials here, and most failed to thrive. Mulch always ended up on the attached patio, and pea gravel failed to smother weeds. Therefore, both materials are being raked and removed, to expose clean dirt where the sod will lay. If you recall from recent posts, this “Slope from Hell” was home to a dozen peony plants that were dug/sold and relocated to another garden in November. No wonder my hips are toast.

Shifting a few border rocks, and much grooming, in an hour, the bed was prepared for sod.

The blessed sod, grown locally, and harvested recently.

These men constructed my lower patio retaining wall in December (see post), and they enjoy their work; smiling, joking, and talking in melodic Spanish as they labor. I am SO grateful to have this team for garden projects!!! Joy is so absent in much of life these days; anytime I witness a genuine smile my hope is restored.

Less than two hours later, the transformed “Slope from Hell” displays fresh sod. Regular watering on my part until established, will hopefully encourage healthy turf for years to come. The strimmer will keep it tidy and Virginia Green will zap it with their monthly brew, killing any weeds, while nitrogen will green it up to match the established turf. Rain before and after sod installation allows time for blogging today and eliminated the chore of linking/dragging hoses to water this patch by hand. Completing as many garden chores as possible early in the season is my goal, as spring too quickly fades into summer…delivering the good old unpredictable hot, humid central Virginia climate.

Next on my list of home chores for 2022 is the staining of the new patio retaining wall. The day after I purchased the stain the end of December wet, cold, icy winter weather set in. So again, Mother Nature dictates the timing for exterior projects. The 300SF concrete patio also needs restoration with a pressure wash and applications of Rescue It! by Olympic. I normally enjoy exterior painting/staining, yet weather conditions remain the challenge. Do you think I will get it all done this year?

I always enjoy your comments, so please take a moment to send a note.

Copyright 2022 by Diane LaSauce All Rights Reserved

the perfect Tiny House

Tags

environment, home, tiny house, wild birds

As I cleaned out the three bird boxes last week, I could not resist photographing the nest of the Black Cap Chickadee.

The adorable, tiny black cap chickadee. 

Constructed during the unusually cold spring, this bird insulated her eggs/chicks with divine plushness. Notice the moss base topped with what appeared to be wool or dog hair. I am astonished how creative these birds are when Mother Nature throws a curve ball.

Keep in mind as you view these images the fact that this small bird erects her nest without help from a mate, only using her mandible, feet, and flight. The entire interior of the box was filled with this material…picked bit by bit and carefully constructed. Are you impressed?

End view. If you were a chickadee, would you be glad to enter this world snugged in by this nest?

Custom made, mouthful by mouthful, this beautiful nest is used only for one brood per year. I encourage moss in my gardens solely for this purpose.

Carolina Wren and Eastern Bluebird nests are totally trashed by the time the brood fledges, often found with many mites and fecal matter. This nest was pristine, tidy with no mess. I hated to take it to the burn barrel, but alas. Before doing so, I had to capture and share photos with followers.

Also happy to report that the resident Eastern Bluebirds have so far this spring successfully fledged two broods of three chicks each. Within days of the last fledge, the adults are back and the female is constructing her third nest. This is a first for my garden’s box, as summer is usually too steamy for a third go. Yet I am confident that this “professional” pair of birds will make do. I gave the box’s interior a good scrub and added Diatomaceous earth to the bottom of the box to ward off blow fly and other blood sucking parasites so common to these birds.

Nestling bluebirds day nine ~ Swallowtail Cottage

As another steamy Virginia summer heats up, I am delighted each day by the wild bird activity in my gardens, observed from my air-conditioned home. Eastern Bluebirds, Black-Cap Chickadees, Northern Cardinals, Red Bellied Woodpeckers, and Carolina Wrens are by far my favorite birds and they are spoiled by hand-chopped sunflower seeds I deliver throughout the day to my rear terrace. Despite challenges from the plethora of invasive 2020 squirrels, I am slowing winning the battle.

Observation of wild birds, their distinct behavioral patterns, intelligence, beauty, and ability to adapt is truly remarkable. I am so envious of their innate ability to just simply fly.

What birds do you love best? What have you learned from your observations?

Keep safe.

Copyright © 2020 by Diane LaSauce All Rights Reserved

Miracles everywhere

Tags

butterfly larva, garden hobby, garden miracles, home, inspiration, life, Pipevine Swallowtail

In the words of a local butterfly mentor, Linda best described the wonder of these images I captured earlier this spring:

“From a side view, the chrysalis of the magnificent Pipevine Swallowtail  butterfly resembles a miniature prehistoric dragon head. The chrysalis can be a vivid shade of lime green or a mottled grayish brown, suspended on a twig or stick by a monofilament of silk to hold it securely in place until the butterfly is ready to emerge. It then begins to turn dark, revealing the wing pattern and body of the soon to be butterfly. Once freed of its enclosure, it will pump fluid into its wings, making them strong enough to carry the butterfly on the wind or beat a hasty retreat, to nectar plants for sustenance, to begin the life cycle again. The four life stages of a butterfly are truly a remarkable manifestation of Mother Nature’s handiwork.”

Linda Marchman
Author of “Gone Astray”, “Silent Meow”  and NEWLY PUBLISHED “Lost and Found Cats”  www.felinefiction.com

Early this year, I collected five Pipevine swallowtail eggs from the host plant, a vine (Pipevine) trellised in my garden just for this purpose. Raised indoors due to freakish late killing frosts in March/April, three eggs would fit on the the head of a pin. Tiny. When fed fresh host plant leaves indoors, they grew rapidly in a lettuce container placed in the bay window. The small dots you see in this photo is frass, or butterfly poop. I emptied the frass many times per day and kept leaves fresh. Caterpillars cannot see nor hear. They just eat and poop.  If left in the wild, merely three out of one-hundred would survive to maturity. Predation is rampant. Therefore I do my part to help these beauties survive. About two weeks later, they climbed on the skewers I supplied, and formed their chrysalises. Despite the cold swings outdoors, they rested comfortably indoors.

This is one Pipevine chrysalis, formed last fall. I stored it in the unheated garden shed over winter, and brought it inside with five of its mates this spring, where they all emerged as butterflies. See what emerged a few minutes later below…

Notice the different shapes created by the same kind of swallowtail. This one is especially spectacular. The color and shape happened before my eyes. Have you ever seen this transformation? These photos were taken in natural light and the camera was hand-held. If you sew or paint, I am sure you will appreciate this image.

Amazing, yes? Notice the wee silk thread created by the caterpillar before it transformed into a chrysalis. This is one fine form of engineering!

This pair is from the same group, yet completely different in color. This I cannot explain. They all emerged successfully two weeks later and I hope that they all live a complete cycle…another two short weeks. In fact this morning, one Pipevine was back at the vine laying eggs. Who knows if it was one of mine. The circle continues. 

Voila! The overwintered Pipevine emerges! After a while its wings engorge with fluid, and within a short time, it is ready to fly.

Another view of  spent chrysalis with emerged butterfly resting outside. Over the years, I have raised hundreds of Monarchs and various Swallowtails. They each have a particular life cycle. Learning their ways, caring for them, and seeing them at first flight is a hobby that never fails to delight. When all things come together in perfect harmony, Mother Nature rewards us with miracles.

To these special moments, I cling, while the rest of the planet is currently crazed.

See more of my many butterfly photos and posts by typing Monarch into the search bar on this blog. Butterflies are quite magical, fragile, and fleeting. Similar to life itself.

Let me hear from you in the comments section!

Copyright © 2020 by Diane LaSauce All Rights Reserved

Transform, transition, resilience

Tags

garden, gratitude, home, life, The New Normal

Fear can paralyze us.

Change can anger us.

Gratitude can transform us.

Since March 16 my life is forever changed. And for the better.

We must have hope for the better.

At first, I was in denial about the pandemic. Cases had not yet arrived in my small town. I did not wear a mask until a month ago. I live in the country, and believe the air is pure. I limit my trips to town. Already a compulsive hand washer (being in food production), I quickly located gloves to protect my flesh from harsh hand sanitizers while out in public.

Overnight, ordinary supplies vanished from store shelves. I began to order back-stock of my supplies. Shipments arrived from Florida. Supplements from Amazon arrived late or vanished altogether. Then restaurants closed. Schools closed. Death tolls began to mount. Life is no longer normal. A global shift. A mighty cull. A change out of control.

I must transition or suffer.

The Good Begins:

The first Saturday in April is the beginning of the farmer’s market season here in Central Virginia. This season is my 20th. I have been ready for change for over a decade and change happened in a BIG way. Our public market is closed until further notice. Fortunately, our management scrambled and bought a software geared to online farmer’s market shopping and drive-thru pick up. At first I resisted — many hoops to jump through. I had to open a PayPal account in order to receive payment. NO!
Hesitantly, I joined the other reserved agricultural/value added vendors, and by week three sales quadrupled! I am awash with new business. Customers never before seen. Apparently they want to Buy Fresh, Buy Local and with gusto!

This is how it works:

Monday through Thursday, the public can place/preorder items listed on the site. They also pre-pay so there is no cash exchanged. Vendors gather with their vehicles in a city park, socially distanced, and from 8-12 on Saturday, while customers drive through, trunks open, and vendors place their orders in those trunks. The revenue goes into a City PayPal account, and after they deduct their commission, the balance is transferred to vendor’s accounts. Easy peasy. Technology is fantastic when it works for the overall good. And this is GOOD.

The first week I nearly had a stroke when I checked my orders. Until then, I had become resigned to an inevitable annual loss. Instead, I never had this demand at the old market. I hit the ground running, delighted that organization is my forte, and at my ripe age, still functions. No more guessing nor speculating. No more exhausting chit chat with market customers. No more crack-of-dawn risings. I am over the moon!

Supply shopping became a game. Some hits, some outs. Helpful suppliers and new ones found online have performed flawlessly. I am grateful. So grateful. As a one-woman operation, every bit of help is appreciated! Angels appear in the most unexpected places.

The Advantage:

With stay at home orders in place, families want/need an excuse to get out of the house. From the safety of their automobiles, this drive-through venue allows an outing (even dogs attend) for the entire family, albeit behind closed windows. Vendors are gloved and masked, and communication is nil, except for a wave or thumbs up. When all orders are picked up, vendors too are free to leave. Such a delightful change. Everyone wins.

Back at Swallowtail Cottage:

This spring has been one for the record books. On April 19, we had a killing frost of 29F. For zone 7A, this is harsh. The annual cash crop of hundreds of peony stems/buds were wilted to the ground. This has never happened in the nineteen years I have lived here. They seemed to recover once the sun rose, but most stems have remained in a stupor ever since.

The Oriental poppies are splendid this spring, yet the peonies are having a difficult time with these unusually cold nights.

Mother’s Day is the sweet spot for peony bouquet sales, yet I merely harvested 18 stems suitable for sale yesterday. Meanwhile, last night we had another hard freeze. Mother Nature is playing hard ball, for sure. This calls for resilience.

The jury is still out on whether the blueberries will ripen. They are in fruit now, but they have never experienced killing frost in their young lives…

O’Neal blueberries beginning to ripen

Meanwhile, the garden’s chives and parsley are beautiful now, and both make for a signature chive/artichoke/walnut pesto most popular with customers. Win.

Chives and their edible flowers first thing in the spring…yummy as pesto.

My pimento cheese, buttermilk biscuits, blueberry scones, and Key Lime Pies are finding new popularity. Every Friday, I spend hours in production. Win.

I currently produce/sell 200 of these per week!

Good food, comfort food, service to the community, and entrepreneurial fervor guide me. One customer stated, “You are getting us through this!” which nearly made me weep.

My kitchen during five hours of production every Friday.

The new normal.

Meanwhile the garden reminds me that life goes on despite horror and sorrow. The butterflies lay their eggs on the Pipe vine and parsley. The chrysalises that overwintered with me, are now emerging to fly blissfully away upon the breeze. Those at risk of freezing, I now raise indoors and release on milder days.

Pipevine caterpillars munch away blissfully indoors as cold temperatures prevail outside. These I collected as eggs.

The butterfly castle houses one newly emerged Pipevine swallowtail who spent the winter in the shed as a chrysalis. I released it as the temperature rose.

The Eastern Bluebird pair successfully raised their first brood of four nestlings who fledged on May 1.

Three nestling bluebirds day nine ~ Swallowtail Cottage.

The hummers returned from their tropical retreat on April 20th. The white-throated sparrows finally left this week to migrate farther north for summer. Chipping sparrows are here now, gleaning what they can find in the mulch and under the feeder. Titmice, Northern Cardinals, Red bellied woodpeckers, and the wee Black Cap chickadees also nest and thrive. Many other wild birds grace my gardens, creating a wonderland of endless entertainment, and beautiful views from my windows.

So close your eyes, click your heels and repeat…”there is no place like home.”

For now I am safe, well, productive, and grateful.

How are you faring? How has life shifted for you?

Copyright © 2020 by Diane LaSauce All Rights Reserved

 

An Artist’s Way

Tags

garden, home, homebound, inspiration, life

Yesterday, I had a telephone conversation with a creative neighbor and the crux of the topic was: In this life, I strive to surround myself with beauty. Above all else, my eye craves divine images of nature, architecture, and wildlife. Perfection is an illusive goal. This fact I finally resigned myself to a few years ago. Yet, still I strive to surround myself with as much gorgeousness as I can muster, sans the help of a trust fund.

No more strolls amoungst grand estates of Europe, no fantastic scuba trips to the Maldives — I reside locally now and have for nearly two decades. Most of my poetry was penned in the late 1990’s before I began this single family house adventure in 2001. My Book of Garden Poems won no recognition in NYC or London. No longer do I draw and painting has fallen to the chores of this needy box. I have found creative opportunities in my kitchen and gardens. This is my first home on half an acre.

Photography helps me stay attached to my creativity, and this rural place surrounds me with endless visual opportunities. Additionally, this blog, which was born in 2011, provides a home for writing. If you are new to this blog, currently there are over 200 posts that combine both photography and prose. While you are house bound, please take time to explore the two draw-down menus within this work in progress. They are found in the left hand side of this page.

With so much global angst these days, I decided to add slices of beauty I recorded over the past nineteen years. Join me and unwind. These are my images/glimpses of near perfection.

In closing, what thought strikes me significantly this week is the fact that home is my safe place and my gardens are my sanctuary. Are you feeling safe?

Please use this time to discover newfangled ways in which to see the beauty in each and every day. We are in this together.

Your comments are always welcome.

Pleased with her investigation 2009

This single Lily-flowering Ballerina tulip is simply magnificent. I moved others and they vanished. I celebrate this lone specimen the entire week it blooms. Planted here in 2003.

the narrow gravel path is embraced by tightly shorn boxwood hedges.

I could not resist capturing how the sun played with this timber frame structure, a “duplex” that shares a central chimney.

from the front porch, I feel as though I could fly as a bird. This same view has inspired visitors since the 18th century.

I could not resist capturing this tender moment between father and infant

I could not resist this image. An enviable braid.

end of summer bouquet

Miss Kitty sighting?

Sunday mornings I crave a wee breakfast that is special; a meal that celebrates the end of a very long week.

heritage roosters feeling their oats and making an empressive show

exhilarating moments

another year has passed. Tonight we bid 2014 adieu and welcome the new year.

Across the river, we played tourist at the Capital Waterfront.

all plumped up in order to stay warm

one handsome barn

sunset one Sunday

Quite a show today in the last day of September

someone’s lovin’ life!

cairn for Miss Kitty

nestling bluebirds day nine ~ Swallowtail Cottage. Would you feed them GMO food?

PS. While you are cooped up and looking for exceptional video in 4K Ultra HD…check out this channel, Amazing Places on Our Planet on YouTube. The next best thing to being there. 😉

Copyright © 2020 by Diane LaSauce All Rights Reserved

Thanksgiving…remembering love

Tags

inspiration, life, love, pets, Thanksgiving, Washington National Cathedral

This week nearing Thanksgiving, thoughts of passed people, pets, and unexplainable occurrences tiptoe into my consciousness.  Quiet trickles of images, sweetness, perfect scenarios, and moments of happiness drop in… people who showed appreciation for my talents, pets who loved unconditionally, and divine experiences that gave me a glimpse of spirit. They all circle around me now. I embrace them all.

Formosa lily blooming in early November

During what turned out to be the last weeks of my mother’s life, one afternoon I rested at the end of her bed and in silence, she simply reached down and stroked my head. No words necessary. What had often been a tumultuous relationship with years of distance and silence, we had finally reached a place silent acceptance, forgiveness, and love. Tomorrow would be her 102nd birthday.

Mother as a model in NYC.

Photo by Sindre Strøm on Pexels.com

Ragtime Rags, a doberman/lab filled my life with constant companionship for thirteen years. While young, she preferred to run ahead while I reigned a spirited horse behind her — over fields, ravines, and open space. During later life, she enjoyed our condo/air conditioned lifestyle and daily walks to the local park. In the city, strangers would cross the street when we approached. They did not notice her alert face, shiny coat, and wagging tail. Never did she pull on the leash, yet always alert kept one step ahead by my side. When she left this life, I buried her in the country, a place where I returned in 2000. Her resting place is only two miles away from Swallowtail Cottage. Her headstone resides with me.

When we were young…Ragtime Rags and I

Resting in my garden

Cinnamon was a golden retriever who resided with clients of mine. I was asked to sit with her when the couple went out. For a few years, she and I enjoyed romps on the property, as her “parents” were too fragile to go for walks on uneven terrain. While I enjoyed their pool, Cinnamon, who had a scary encounter with water as a puppy, gazed at me from the solid edge. I walked to the steps, invited her in, and with the aid of a tennis ball, she joined me in the water. I cradled her under her belly as she paddled about, then I returned her to the steps. Soaking wet, she exited, shook, and from the look on her face, I could tell we had crossed a threshold. Later reports stated that she often confidently sat on the top step of the pool, cooling her belly.

Cinnamon enjoying a plush life and deep thinking

I blogged about Miss Kitty when she left this life in 2011. Although I hosted numerous felines throughout my adult life, Miss Kitty was my true love. She had been a barn cat for her first four years, and when we met, she wanted out. We were like Velcro for eleven years. Her presence is still very much here, as she has a tool box, and keeps the icemaker going. As a spirit Kitty, she is an easy keeper. Her ashes reside on the printer in my office, one of her favorite napping spots. When I become ash, we will be sprinkled together somewhere in a beautiful garden.

Miss Kitty, the feline love of my life.

The Washington National Cathedral in Washington, DC is an ethereal place. I attended regular services there after my mother died in 1995. Arriving early, I sat in the front row, in order to take communion following the choir and before the masses who sat behind me. One bright, breezy Sunday, this position allowed me to notice an unusual light play. And by play I do not mean theatre. During this sermon, I noticed that the sunlight coming through one magnificent set of stained glass ebbed and flowed according to the cadence of the sermon. Yes, that is what occurred. This was no artificial manipulation by theatre crew.

Photo by Magda Ehlers on Pexels.com

Another time while in deep mourning for my mother, I knelt in the Cathedral’s small chapel reserved for loss. Not in prayer, but simply present among the tiers of glowing red votives, suddenly I felt my chest open up as if fingers were painlessly revealing my heart — no other sensation felt until I flinched and returned to reality. Never has this happened again. I often wonder what would have happened if I had stayed in that moment. Would the divine have had a message for me?

Photo by David Dibert on Pexels.com

Whatever the meaning, Thanksgiving is a time of reflection and remembrance. I welcome the trickle of happy yet somewhat bittersweet thoughts that visit now.

Are you experiencing similar thoughts this time of year? If so, please add to the comments section of this post.

Happy and safe Thanksgiving to all and may you too remember love this holiday.

Copyright © 2019 by Diane LaSauce All Rights Reserved