Garden Helpers...or Hooligans?

First of all, in case you remember way back to October 1, I planned to participate in Nester's "31 Days" challenge. When October 15 arrived, I thought I would actually realize my goal--posting about "31 Days of Garden Delights" throughout October.

Then, this week, Peter and the Kristen stayed home, sick.

And guess what? 

They shared their germs with me.

So, for the past two days, I've napped when I normally write. I've gone to bed at 10:30 p.m., instead of my usual 1 a.m. or later. Honestly, even if I hadn't spent the last 48 hours sleeping during every free second, my bleary brain couldn't find one topic that I cared to share.

I'm still pretty foggy, but while I'm upright, I thought I'd share some photos of my garden helpers/vandals.

 Sugar (left) and Spice (right)

I'm conflicted by the popular idea of chickens and gardens coexisting. I know there's a book on the subject--which I haven't read yet. And every time I see a plan for a chicken coop with a green roof on Pinterest, I wonder how long that roof will remain green. Perhaps I'm missing something, but I know from experience that our girls need serious supervision in the garden--not only to keep them from flying to the dogs' side of the backyard, but also to prevent them from eating every plant in sight.

Saltine

Trust me--my poor trays of lettuce, awaiting their new home in the potager, became a snack for some feathered culprits. 

I was not happy.
 

  
They look so innocent.

Sugar and Spice certainly aren't nice to my climbing hydrangeas. Grrr!
 

The gardens definitely benefit from the girls' insect patrols. However, they aren't selective in their foraging. All insects are fair game to them--pests as well as beneficials. 

Although, I tend to forgive them for feasting on my plants and beneficial bugs, because honestly--watching chickens hanging around the pool is better than anything on TV.
 

And chasing escaped chickens through the forest definitely encourages family bonding.

I'm training the girls to eat only weeds...in my dreams. I wish someone would write a book about how to teach a chicken to identify a weed and pull it from the garden. Now, that's a book I would buy!

Weeds are a great treat. Usually, after a marathon weeding session, I take the bucket and dump it into the girls' area. It's great entertainment for them, scratching through the greens to find grubs and such.  

 
While the girls are great with pest control and loosening soil when they forage, they haven't learned to clean up after themselves. Again, if you're interested in a pristine garden--chickens will not make you happy. We constantly have a broom floating around to clean up after the girls.

The original fabulous five, from left: Clue, Pepper, Meggie, and Risa. 

(Roxanne scooted out of the photo.)

Roxanne

It's interesting. When we added the three chicks last spring--Saltine, Sugar and Spice--we read about how to introduce the young chickens into an established flock. It's not an easy task, and honestly--it needs to be considered carefully, or the babies can be killed.

While the chicks were small, we used the portable run Peter built for the original flock and placed it near the area where we keep the big girls. Both flocks could see each other--but from a safe distance.

As the babies grew, we moved the run into the same space with the big girls, which is a large fenced area behind the pool, with the coop situated between the kids'/dogs' side of the yard and the pool side.  

(Note: Yes, our backyard is broken out by "kids' and dogs' side/pool side." It's crazy, but especially when the kids were small, we kept the pool area locked. Perhaps I need to consider a more formal name: "Jardin les Chiens et les Enfants." There, that sounds better. I don't know if it's correct, but it sounds good.)  

Much curiosity ensued--but the babies stayed safe.

 
We then began supervised play dates.

The girls roamed freely by the pool while the kids swam. And whenever one of the big girls began picking on a younger chicken, Kristen chased the bully away.

When that didn't work, we implemented another tactic:

Water guns.

A quick squirt at the offender soon led to peace. 

During the flock integration phase, we also kept the younger girls in a dog kennel inside the coop at night, just to make certain the big girls didn't haze them while we weren't looking. 

Interestingly, rather than accomplish a fully integrated flock, we now have two distinct flocks that tolerate each other. Regardless if the girls forage in the backyard...

...the forest...

...the side yard, or back by the compost pile, they stay with their flock of 3 or 5.

The big girls get a drink...

...and off run the babies, heading for the compost pile.

 Risa! Leave that hosta alone!

 

Play time is over, and Chicken Mama rounds up her girls. While we love to let them free range, we don't leave them out unsupervised. If I'm working in the large kitchen garden, we'll put the babies in the old, original coop/run (above) so they can forage safely while I'm busy. Not only do I worry about neighborhood dogs, but the girls also like to head toward our neighbors' house.

They are not chicken people. I want to keep the peace. 

Today, though, the girls will be stuck in their area behind the pool, now known as "Le Jardin les Poules."(Of course, that's probably not correct, either. Any French speakers, please feel free to correct me. I obviously don't remember much of my high school French class.)  Kristen took grapes and pear scraps down to their area this morning, because I knew that I won't be out in the garden today.

In fact, I think it's time for two Advil and a nap.

Happy Friday, friends--and may you stay well.

XO ~

Julie

World Food Day.

I'm disappointed in myself. Somehow, a very important day, one that means a lot to me--well, I missed it. I could blame it on a sick girlie, a sick hubby, and even my own bleary head. (I will NOT succumb to their germs, I won't!) 

Still, I missed it. And it's something we should all celebrate.



My passion is gardening--and helping people learn how to grow food. Still, so many people don't have the resources to grow a garden due to their living arrangements. So many thousands of children go to bed hungry, relying on school breakfasts and lunches, often as their only source of nutrition. 

Our family is lucky. Our kids don't know hunger, unless they refuse to eat what's on the table. If they had known hunger, they wouldn't be picky eaters.

I don't have the answers to how we can change the system. I'm no politician. I wish I could feed every hungry person, but I know I can't. But together, we can start a conversation. Together, we can celebrate the people and organizations who work tirelessly to feed the hungry. Together, we can take small steps that might turn into something big.

And although I've almost missed World Food Day, I thought I'd share a few links to some of those amazing organizations who work to feed the hungry. I hope you'll check them out. These are just a few of my favorites. 

World Food Day
Growing Power
Feed the Children 
Feeding America 
Heifer International 
World Food Programme 
Alice Water's Edible Schoolyard 
Action Against Hunger 

 
Will you share your favorties?

And between now and next year, let's think about a way we can work together to help feed hungry families on World Food Day 2013.

Thanks, friends.

XO ~

Julie
 

Holy Hot Peppers.

Today's heirloom hot pepper harvest--the last for the season.

For a family that doesn't eat a lot of spicy food, I think...perhaps...I should plant fewer hot pepper plants next year. Three gallon-sized bags of peppers went to college with Tyler and Val. One gallon is heading to a friend's home tomorrow. One small bag joined its friends in our freezer. Because we've already processed a whole lot of hot peppers, I decided it was time to end the hot pepper season in our garden. 

It's time to plant garlic, and I need a free bed.

So, ¡adiós, hot peppers. Buon giorno, beautiful garlic.

I will never complain about too much garlic.

XO ~

Julie

Politics and Apple Cake.

I'm baking an apple cake.

There's something calming about the simplicity of baking. Flour, sugar, milk, eggs, lots and lots of cinnamon. I bake when I'm happy, but often I bake when I'm upset. It settles me. I'm grounded in the present, ticking off steps in the recipe, engaged in a calming ritual. Measure, add, mix. Place in 350 degree oven for an hour. Reap the rewards.

When my mom passed away, I baked. And baked. I stayed up until 3 a.m., baking. Usually, the bereaved don't bake the post-service food—they receive it from friends and neighbors.

But I baked to quiet my mind and mask my grief. I baked until I finally, finally felt the ability to sleep. And then, I baked some more.

Of course, we had too much food.

Tonight, the apple cake began as a joyful dessert for tomorrow night's book club. Our book club night is a monthly cause for celebration—brilliant, lovely friends gathered together to share our love of literature, escape our responsibilities for a few hours, and, of course, indulge. Much food and wine is consumed. Some of us have been known to skip all meals on book club days to feast in the evening with our friends. 

The food is that good.

But instead of its original purpose, the apple cake became cathartic.

Soften butter, pack brown sugar, peel and chop three cups of apples.

I lined up the ingredients before we tucked the kids into bed, then turned on the Vice Presidential debate.

I know who will receive my vote. It's my vote, and I like my guy. But as a voter, I'm watching all of the debates. I need to be informed. It's my responsibility to listen carefully to everyone, even if I don't agree with what they say. The other candidate might become my president, and I want to know what he thinks about issues that will affect us all.

And honestly? I want to know why some of my friends like this guy. I want to understand why he appeals to them. I don't want to name call, finger-point, and post bizarre, unflattering caricatures of their candidate on Facebook. I respect them. After all, we're friends, right? It says so, right there on Facebook.

Add eggs, milk, and vanilla. Mix well.

But sometimes, I wonder. Who are these people? Why do they feel it's OK to be so derogatory toward my candidate? They'll say it's not a personal attack—it's political. Yet, when so much negativity and hatefulness appears on my page, it feels personal.

Fill pan, place in 350 oven for one hour. Don't burn.

So, what began as an apple cake for book club, and what should have been a post about the best baking apples became...a bit of baking psychoanalysis, I suppose.

Does this count as a garden delight?

Politics aside...the house does smell delicious. I used apples from our Sunday orchard outing. The apple cake includes a blend of Cameo, Granny Smith, and Fuji. I like to blend different varieties when baking, because their unique characteristics provide a more rich, complex taste.

Kind of like how differing opinions should create a more energized, creative country.

Remove from oven, cool 15 minutes, then remove from pan.

I hold my breath, flip the Bundt pan, and the cake easily falls out...which is not always the case. Sometimes, it sticks. Sometimes, the lovely cake breaks into several large chunks.

Tonight, I'm lucky.

My crankiness abates, and I realize that I've been holding my breath for a long time.

Exhale.

The praline icing looks odd...and I wonder if I skipped an ingredient. But no, I don't think so. It's grainy, oddly textured, not its usual smooth consistency.

I doubled the icing recipe. Perhaps I was too greedy?

And then, as I typed the recipe below, I realized—the instructions for making the icing were missing. I combined everything at once. I boiled nothing.

Don't do what I did.

Without a doubt, though, the scent of apples and spices, the physical act of baking, relaxed my mind and provided perspective.

Apple Cream Cheese Bundt Cake

Adapted from Southern Living. The original recipe calls for pecans, which I've omitted.

Ingredients

CREAM CHEESE FILLING:

1 (8-oz.) package cream cheese, softened

1/4 cup butter, softened

1/2 cup granulated sugar

1 large egg

2 tablespoons all-purpose flour

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

APPLE CAKE BATTER:

3 cups all-purpose flour

1 cup granulated sugar

1 cup firmly packed light brown sugar

2 teaspoons ground cinnamon

1 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon baking soda

1 teaspoon ground nutmeg

1/2 teaspoon ground allspice

3 large eggs, lightly beaten

3/4 cup canola oil

3/4 cup applesauce

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

3 cups peeled and finely chopped Gala apples

PRALINE FROSTING:

1/2 cup firmly packed light brown sugar

1/4 cup butter

3 tablespoons milk

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1 cup powdered sugar

Filling: Beat cream cheese, butter, and sugar at medium speed with an electric mixer until blended and smooth. Add egg, flour, and vanilla; beat just until blended.

Batter: Preheat oven to 350º. Stir together 3 cups flour and next seven ingredients in a large bowl; stir in eggs, oil, applesauce, and vanilla until dry ingredients are moistened. Stir in apples.

Spoon two-thirds of apple mixture into a greased and floured 14-cup Bundt pan. Spoon cream cheese filling over apple mixture, leaving a 1-inch border around edges of pan. Using a knife, swirl filling through apple mixture. Spoon remaining apple mixture over cream cheese filling.

Bake at 350º for 1 hour or until a long wooden skewer inserted in center comes out clean. Cool cake in pan on a wire rack 15 minutes; remove from pan to wire rack, and cool completely (about 2 hours).

Frosting: Bring 1/2 cup brown sugar, 1/4 cup butter, and 3 Tbsp. milk to a boil in a 2-qt. saucepan over medium heat, whisking constantly; boil 1 minute, whisking constantly. Remove from heat. Stir in vanilla. Gradually whisk in powdered sugar until smooth. Stir gently 3 to 5 minutes or until mixture begins to cool and thickens slightly. Pour immediately over cooled cake.

Good apple varieties for baking:

Gala ~ The original recipe called for Gala, but we all know I'm not a rule follower. Actually, we just didn't come home from the orchard with any Gala. The sweetness of Gala means less sugar used in recipes. It also retains its shape well.

Granny Smith ~ For a long time, I thought Granny Smith was the only baking apple. It is a classic—tart and tangy. Granny is Kristen's favorite apple.

Cortland ~ Tart, crisp, and holds shape well.

Jonathan ~ Classic, deep red, tart fruit.

Jonagold ~ a cross of Jonathan and Golden Delicious—a sweet-tart blend with firm flesh.

Braeburn ~ Spicy, sweet, firm apple that stores well and keeps its shape.

Honeycrisp ~ Crisp, sweet, firm fruit that doesn't cook down too much in baking.

Winesap ~ Tart and spicy, the fruit stores well and doesn't cook down.

Happy baking...and voting. And let's agree to disagree, respectfully. Please?

Julie

Fabulous Fraise des Bois.

Today, as I compiled a list of the garden and greenhouse chores to be done—pronto--I realized that it's already time to sow some seeds for next spring. It sounds crazy, I know. But somehow, it's already October. When did that happen? My favorite garden delight needs extra time to germinate and grow into lush plants so that we can enjoy its fruits next year.

My favorite garden delight? 

Fraise des bois.

Honestly, isn't it a delight to say the name? Fraise des bois. Just saying the words makes me feel worldly and culinarily chic, even if I'm schlepping around in my Bradley University sweatshirt.

Allow me my fantasy.

If you've visited here before, you've heard me extoll the virtues of fraise des bois. Peter laughs at my insistence at using the French phrase because, after all, they're just “strawberries of the woods.” In Switzerland, they're commonplace.

In our area, strawberries of the forest—at least, in our yard—are inedible. Trust me. We've tried them more than once, each time hoping for a bit of sweetness.

We always wind up with a mouthful of bitter, hard berries.

Unlike our nasty wild strawberries, fraise des bois are tiny delicacies. Imagine the sweetest strawberry, just picked from the field. Now, multiply that deliciousness by 10, and you'll understand my love affair with fraise des bois.

Not only are the fruits unpretentious bursts of tasty bliss, but the plants are workhorses in our shady garden.

Fraise des bois graces containers, borders perennial beds, lines the new shade garden I'm creating. With evergreen leaves, it provides a lush ground cover filled with tiny gems in red and yellow. 

Fraise des bois are well mannered. While traditional garden strawberries are quick to bully their way through beds, spilling over borders and crowding companion plants, fraise des bois are refined. They politely remain where planted, spreading by seed rather than runners, forming thicker clumps each year without invading the garden.

I like polite plants.

Even more, I like plants that flower continuously and produce delicious fruit from spring until the first hard freeze. And I love plants that tolerate shade and remain evergreen, at least in our zone 7b garden.

Noted as hardy in zones 4-7, fraise des bois is considered challenging to germinate. Although it does require a bit of time to germinate, typically sprouts appear in approximately two weeks. By starting the plants in the fall, I'm assured they will produce at least a small crop of fruit the first year in the garden.

A tradition...kids paint pots the first week of summer vacation. 

Kristen's fraise des bois is still going strong on October 10.

To enjoy fraise des bois, you need to grow your own. Honestly. Please dedicate at least a container to these garden gems, because you won't find them in stores. The fruit is highly perishable and must be used immediately after harvesting.

That is, use immediately if any berries remain after your short walk from garden to kitchen. The smell will tease you, tempting you to eat every last berry yourself.

Sharing is highly overrated, right?

Fraise des bois is a garden delight on its own—there's no recipe that can compete with the simple pleasure of fraise des bois, perhaps with a tad of crème fraiche or vanilla ice cream.

After all, simple is chic.

N'est-ce pas?

XO ~

Julie

P.S. I think Sammy ate too many fraise des bois...poor, lazy, chubby kitty.

Pampering Perennials: Historic Snail Flower.

It's cold. My toes are cold, my nose is cold. Soon, the greenhouses will serve a dual purpose of germinating seeds and sheltering my favorite tender perennials. Although our zone (7b) is typically safe from the first frost until Halloween, my gardener's intuition tells me to be prepared. Today, as I waited for Mikey's school bus, the steel grey clouds looked ominously like snow clouds.

Seriously.

I know that's absurd, as I shivered in the 55 degrees. Still, as a former northern girl, I know snow clouds.

And these looked just like them.

Several weather sources are predicting cold, snowy days for the Southeast—which I love. I miss snow. Now, though, it's time to think about finishing the last plantings of the season, as well as preparing the garden for the approaching cold.

Most of our tender perennials planted in the landscape receive a good layer of mulch or a thick blanket of straw, in the case of our banana trees. But some of our potted perennial favorites earn sacred space in the greenhouses.

One of those perennials is my lovely snail flower, Vigna caracalla.

Grown as a tender perennial in the south and an annual in the north, snail flower is a quiet vine early in the season, producing lush foliage for several months prior to bloom. But when those blooms appear—oh my.

Originally discovered growing in Caracas, Venezuela, snail flower is an heirloom variety with star power. Often noted for growing in Thomas Jefferson's gardens at Monticello, this historic plant intertwines history with botanical art. Spiraling purple and lavender flowers highlighted with cream and a touch of yellow smell as beautiful as they look.

The vines reach up to 20 feet in warm climates, making them an excellent choice for trellises, mailboxes, or fences. Although they bloom most prolifically in sun, I've found that partial shade still produces stunning blooms.

Snail flower is one of the first heirloom flowers I propagated from seed. While many sources caution that it's difficult to germinate, I've found the plants very easy to grow. The most difficult aspect of growing snail flowers from seed is the price: $1 per seed at Seed Savers Exchange, due to the challenge of securing viable seed. The plant blooms the first year, but the second years' blooms are heart-stopping.

Soon, the greenhouse will fill with overwintering perennials and trays of baby perennials grown from seed. Soon, we'll need to determine how to fit a 120 pound propane tank into a Prius. Obviously, I forgot to consider heating the greenhouse when trading in the minivan. Soon, as October's temperatures drop, seed catalogs will arrive, and I'll begin making lists for Garden Delights.

Until then, though, I'm going to enjoy the last garden blooms and prepare the winter homes for the perennials. Poor, cold plants.

Do you overwinter any of your favorite plants?

XO ~

Julie

Fun with Gourds.

If you give a Mikey a gourd...

...you'll have silly photos to post when you're too sleepy to write.

Good night!

Julie

Migrating Monarch.

Today, while racing to the car to chauffeur the kids to riding lessons, an unexpected visitor arrived:

Although the words, “Hurry up! We're going to be late!” just spilled from my mouth, the arrival of our visitor made me pause.

We don't often see monarchs in our garden. We play host to many butterflies, but monarchs are rare.

The kids popped out of the car to watch its progress from one lantana bloom to the next.

I, of course, ran back inside for my camera.

By the time I returned, the monarch circled over the garage roof, chased away from the lantana by an overly zealous 7-year-old photographer sporting a Nintendo ds camera.

We watched it for a moment, but it hovered just out of reach.

And we were late.

Then, just as I shooed the kids back into the car, our visitor descended...

...heading straight to the lantana for a drink or two, then flying off.

And we were off, five minutes late--but five minutes happier after enjoying the company of our visitor.

Sometimes, five minutes of a lovely Garden Delight is all you need.

XO ~

Julie

P.S. Apparently, our visitor was a male Monarch. Males sport a black spot on each of the hind wings over a vein. I learned something new today...in five minutes.