A fun idea for a photo meme from Vitamin Sea via Pure Florida. Send along your requests for photos from where I live. I'll go out with camera in hand and roam the neighborhood. It's a chance for me to play tour guide and show off my hometown and local area. What snapshot from New Jersey would you like to see?
Include requests in the comment section here and consider playing along on your own blog.
We're 4 weeks into the semester now and I've almost learned everyone's name. I only see these *kids* once a week , so it seems to take forever to know who's who.
n unexpected people.
This is the sight that greeted me on Tuesday when I got in from work. The general mess with hay strewn about is normal, the collapsed hidey-box is not. It's been threatening to give way for a few weeks now and I've been on the lookout for a new box to replace it with. But I hadn't found one in time. This box was huge and once held 50 pounds of hay shipped across the country from Nebraska for the spoiled rabbits. I haven't ordered from that company in a while, so don't have another.
I didn't expect to find Boomer happily snoozing the afternoon away inside the busted box, but I should have known better. That bunny can nap!
I threw away the box and cleaned up and set out their bed and they snuggled inside it, as they do. But it just wasn't right... these bunnies need a box to *hide* in. None of the others have ever had a box, but I've always given one to the flemmies. They chew the doorways to their liking and shred a back entrance hole. Boomer especially loves the box and I have to rouse him morning and night to eat. He prefers his salads and his hay in bed. Lazy boy!
Before the night was over I had replaced it with the only box I could find that is almost big enough, but not nearly. Boomer seems happy to have a roof over his butt, if not his head.
My garden goes all to hell this time of year. I'm tired of weeding and dragging the hose around. The shorter days don't leave much time for it, even if I were inclined to be out there doing those things after work. The wild things that have been quietly growing beside their more manicured neighbors take full advantage of my neglect and shout out to the neighbors that a lazy gardener lives here. There is beauty in this chaos, but it's hard to see that from curbside. My husband, with his inclination towards neatness (only in the yard!), is aching to cut this flower bed down. It has no sense of propriety and is arching over and falling onto *his* precious lawn. So far I've kept him at bay by pointing out that this bed of white snakeroot, swamp milkweed, and Joe-Pye has nestled two monarch chrysalises in its shady depths and there could be others who need just a week or two (or three) more to finish their business here.
I never planted the snakeroot, but it found its way here from somewhere and wants to take over. I leave it be because it's not very noticeable until it blooms and then it's beautiful. The pokeberry in the picture above is something we fight all spring and summer long, but now in fall we leave it to flower and fruit. The small white aster (maybe aster vimineus?) is a new volunteer brought on the wind. I'm amused to find wildflowers growing here of their own accord, when there are so many flowers that I nurture with little success.
This summer we suddenly have goldenrod growing in the bog garden beside the pond. Where did that come from? I tried to figure out this evening what type of goldenrod it is, but was only able to determine that it is very different from the *cultivated* one I grow across the yard. This is where the writing spider made its pretty web a few weeks ago, and each evening I go out to see what new bugs are feasting on it. There is an assortment of flower flies that I don't know how to identify, and fuzzy bumblebees, and locust borers that mimic wasps.One summer a guy that worked for my neighbor mowed my *wildflower patch* down in late summer, just before all the plants were to bloom. He was mowing the lawn and got carried away with himself, I guess. By rights, he was entitled to do so, as part of this garden is technically on my neighbor's property. I was most fit to be tied though when he told me he did it because "it's just weeds, man!" If that's the way you see the world, well, so be it. But, they're beautiful weeds. My husband takes care of the neighbor's lawn now. Out of the goodness of his heart. ;-)
Have you ever heard of a fish decoy? I hadn't until I came across them at the show on Saturday. Sheepishly I asked the gentleman selling them if they were just decorative or if they actually had some use. He explained that yes, some people collect them, but in places where spear fishing is allowed these decoys are used to lure bigger fish to a hole made in the ice of a frozen lake. Lines are attached to the decoy, then to a stick or *jig* and the decoy is made to swim in a way so as to attract other fish that can be speared from above the ice. Like duck decoys, fish decoys are quite popular as folk art, in addition to their more practical use. Who'd have guessed it? Me, I just thought it was pretty. It's a Lake Trout, carved from white pine and only 8" long with a beautiful curve to its body. It's surprisingly heavy for its size, due to the weights placed in its belly to make it *swim* properly. The carver suggested I try it out in the bathtub to see how it works.
I had a hard time choosing which I liked best, but think I chose a good one. The artist, Rich Brooks, has won many awards for his decoys and lures and the one I chose was featured in a display this summer at the Tuckerton Seaport where he was the *artist in residence*. A nice pic of my decoy is available here and more info about fish decoys in general is available at this website.
Randa at Garden Geek tagged me with another book meme. I love an excuse to talk about books, but felt like I needed to narrow the focus a bit, so decided to think in terms of nature books only. As you can see in this pic of one of my bookshelves, my book collection (and my thinking about books) is not very well organized. I tend not to think of books in the terms used in this meme; maybe that's what made this so very difficult for me. Anyway, here goes...
This weekend was the decoy show at the Tuckerton Seaport. My husband and I go to visit the seaport museum and look at the decoys for sale. In addition to all the stuff for sale, there are contests throughout the weekend. As usual, we missed the retrieving contests, but got to see some very wet Labs. The decoy pics from yesterday were from a *working rig* contest; this year's bird was the Green-Winged Teal and a hen and drake were judged, each in breeding plumage and carved in contemporary style. There's also a duck and goose calling competetion (whch was hilarious to watch) and a skeet shooting competition. We bought a few decoys (I'll post pics another day) and had softshell crab sandwiches for lunch. Here's some other pics from the day:
Decoys in a display at the seaport - I love decoys, but these traditional style are a favorite.
We walked past dozens of tables filled with decoys. Shorebirds are my favorite, but my husband goes for the fancy duck decoys.
Cedar Run Wildlife Refuge had a display table with this gorgeous Barred Owl. This bird is unreleasable due to injuries, but is a well-adjusted educational bird. He was also pretty sleepy-eyed. His table got more attention than the Lab puppies for sale; that made me happy to see.
Silly ducks with their backs turned and butts in the air - how are we supposed to know who they are?
At least these were a bit closer - can you name them?
Close, cooperative ducks, finally! What are they?
* Note: Don't bother checking the photo tags, most of you won't find any hints there. The only hint I will give is that these ducks are not what they seem to be. Have fun!
You are the season of retirement,
of full barns and harvested fields.
The cycle of growth has ceased,
and the busy work of giving life
is now completed.
I sense in you no regrets:
you've lived a full life.
I live in a society that is ever-restless,
always eager for more mountains to climb,
seeking happiness through more and more possessions.
As a child of my culture,
I am seldom truly at peace with what I have.
Teach me to take stock of what I have given and received;
may I know that it's enough,
that my striving can cease
in the abundance of God's grace.
May I know the contentment
that allows the totality of my energies
to come to full flower.
May I know that like you I am rich beyond measure.
As you, O Autumn, take pleasure in your great bounty,
let me also take delight
in the abundance of the simple things in life
which are the true source of joy.
With the golden glow of peaceful contentment
may I truly appreciate this autumn day."
--- Edward Hays
Autumn is my favorite season of the year - I love the colors and the cooler air, but I loathe the shortening days. The hours of daylight have been decreasing since the summer solstice, but the shortened twilight becomes most noticeable now. No more do I have an hour or so outside after my evening coffee when I get in from work. It's darker when I get up too, which makes it next to impossible to rouse myself from bed. The cooler nights make wonderful sleeping weather with the windows wide open, and the crickets and katydids still sing me to sleep, albeit a bit slower now. The last few weeks I've been hearing the great horned owls and even a screech owl one night very late.
The farms I pass on my way to work are advertising u-pick pumpkins and apples. The weekend traffic heading west becomes unbearable on the local roads through the *country*, filled with people from away who come to pick apples and pumpkins. The summer beach crowds are gone, replaced with these same people to harvest peaches, then apples, then pumpkins. Before long it will be Christmas trees. I'm seeing deer again in the fallow fields and the young horses that I've watched grow up on the horse farms on the way to work are gone to begin their training for the racetrack, I suppose.
One of these weekends I need to get to Cape May and spend a little time at the hawk watch there. If no hawks are moving there is always the monarchs to see, or the huge numbers of flickers, or maybe a fallout of migrant robins. There is always some magic to be found at Cape May in the fall. What do you love about the coming season; what magic does it hold for you?
Toileting as a social activity
All the garden blogs I read seem to be featuring fall flowers the past few days, so I thought I'd buck the trend and post a summer flower while I still can. These morning glories are blooming on the fence around the pond and are putting on a pretty late-summer show. It's called "Chocolate Silk" and has large flowers and variegated foliage. The only really *chocolate* part of the flower is the center, the rest is a softer rose-purple than is showing in these pics. We have it planted with some moonflowers and at the base of the fence we planted french marigolds. I thought the contrast of orange and purple would be pretty, but now that the morning glories are blooming well the marigolds are on their way out. We grew these from seeds which is a first for us.
Buddy has been getting stuck in the basement lately. He insists on following my husband down there when he's doing laundry or getting some tool and then Buddy decides he's too afraid to climb back up the stairs. Or at least we think the problem is that he's afraid. He does have some old-age stiffness in his joints, but goes down the stairs fine, it's up that's the problem; and it's just this set of stairs. The three smaller stairs that adjoin these and lead to the kitchen are no trouble for him. The problem, we suspect, is that these stairs are open-backed and Buddy can *see through them* and maybe with his decreased vision it's just enough to make him feel unsure of himself.
Two of them - oh boy! What a joke. The six pepper plants kept dropping their blossoms - what is that about? Too much rain? These two nicely-sized peppers have been mocking me since Saturday when I picked them and tonight I'm going to make one of my favorites - stuffed peppers. My dad made the best stuffed peppers, but was always very vague about his recipe, like all good cooks are. I'll share my recipe, but must warn you that I'm no cook.
I've written very little lately about the pond. After the initial flush of bloom from the waterlilies and other plants, early in the season, I haven't spent much time out there or posted very many pics. I feed the fish most days and occasionally scoop out the fish poop that tends to accumulate in areas where the water doesn't circulate well, but other than that, the pond has pretty much taken care of itself this summer. 
is afternoon in the bog garden, wondering over some goldenrod that is growing wild despite the soggy soil, when I found this black and yellow garden spider, commonly called the writing spider. I'd never seen one of these before and was happy to find it there, in its web, overlooking the pond. In the web were two carefully wrapped skippers, caught unawares on their way to or from the joe-pye weed, still blooming nearby.
Don't you imagine it must be nice to keep a few chickens in your back yard? Crowing at dawn and to announce visitors? I know having chickens is no big deal for some of you living in more rural areas, but for most people living in my part of NJ, it's something of a novelty nowadays. Growing up I didn't know anyone who had chickens and I still don't have any neighbors with a coop in the yard. The closest thing to outdoor farm animals in my area are hutch bunnies. ;-(
The original chickens we gave them were Bantams, who make little tiny eggs, but I'm not sure what variety he has now. He collects the eggs and lately has been using them to make a Pennsylvania Dutch Specialty - pickled beet eggs - yum! A recipe is available here. I love to visit when there are baby chicks, who will follow you around peeping. My brother lets them *forage* for bugs in his vegetable garden and feeds them raspberries from his bushes. He also turns over logs and rocks to help them find crickets to eat, but that's another story! He used to have one really nasty little rooster that liked to attack people, so you had to carry a stick out in the garden, just in case he cornered you. I think they must be begging for breakfast in this last pic, just outside the back steps. Wouldn't that be a nice sight first thing in the morning?
I have pics and a story to share, but a lack of time and patience for Blogger's wonkiness tonight.Sensing this, Blogger vaporized my first attempt at this post. Now, more than an hour later, my laptop battery is about dead and I'm giving up for the night.
This is a pic of my niece feeding her chickens. The chickens are my fault.
Check back another time if the story interests you. There are hawk pictures.
'Night.
I took the day off from work and camped out in the backyard with my butterfly-to-be. I drank my morning coffee, did some prep work for school, watched unidentifiable warblers flit through the trees, dozed in the sun, drank more coffee, read a chapter or two in a book, and snapped this photo around 1:30 this afternoon. I was impatient and had myself convinced that it wouldn't happen today and that I would miss it while at work tomorrow. I'd read that the chrysalis would become very dark before eclosing (thanks for the proper word, Bev!) and once that happened I could expect the metamorphosis the same day. The chrysalis certainly could not become any more beautiful than it was in this last pic above. 
I got up from the lawn chair at 2:45 and found that the butterfly had emerged while I was feeling sorry for myself. It hung, suspended from its shed chrysalis, for about an hour and a half. For most of that time it was as still and intent as when it was pupating. Every so often it flexed its wings or repositioned itself ever so slightly. I'd read that most of the work of metamorphosis is complete before the caterpillar forms its chrysalis. During the first half of pupation the wings grow and scales develop; the last touches are the addition of pigment. When it emerges from the chrysalis the butterfly hangs limply, vulnerable, while it pumps blood through the veins of its wings to expand and harden them. Tentatively it tests its wings and flight muscles.
Eventually it climbed to the top of a snakeroot flower, a few inches above where it had spent the last 17 days pupating, and spread its wings to the warming sun. I could see then that it was a male based on the two *dots* in the black veins of the hindwings. The russet and black wings are gorgeous and fresh. Breathtaking! He flew to the top of my neighbor's garage and rested, then flew to the mulberry tree and rested again; warming and strengthening his wings.
Just 2 1/2 hours after emerging from his chrysalis, and 2 1/2 weeks after pupating he flew away towards the sun; heading south, I hope. It is chilly tonight, I hope he has found a sheltered spot in which to spend it. From what I've read, monarchs born this late in the summer form the last generation of the year, flying south to Mexico where they overwinter until March, when they mate, fly north again, lay eggs and then die. I feel incredibly lucky to have been able to watch this whole wonderful spectacle from start to finish. I've been blessed by the experience. Fly! Fly away butterfly!
The holly forest at Sandy Hook comprises some 264 acres and is said to include the largest concentration of American Holly on the east coast. I went on a NPS ranger-led walk this afternoon that focused on the ways the Lenape Indians used the natural resources available in the forest and salt marsh to survive. Sandy Hook and much of the mainland in the nearby Highlands was *bought* from the Lenape in 1678. The Lenape had used the area for hunting, fowling, fishing, making canoes, and harvesting food from the natural vegetation. The wild beach plums were one of the main attractions of Sandy Hook for the Lenape and the fruit was collected and dried. The photo above is the fruit of the Prickly Pear Cactus which is widespread on Sandy Hook. The fruit can be harvested (wear gloves to avoid the spiny parts) and made into jellies, dessert sauces, and one company even uses it to make lemonade. In Mexico, the fleshy part of the cactus itself is used in many recipes, including omeletes. The Lenape likely used the dried seeds to produce a product similar to flour. The fruit tastes somewhat like watermelon and is full of tiny seeds.
On our way to the holly forest, walking through the salt marsh, I found these Fiddler's Crabs at low tide. They scurry about in the sand foraging for food and doing maintenance on their burrows. I wasn't able to get a close pic, but the males are the ones with the large claws, which they wave around to attract a mate to their burrow. The Fiddler's plug up their burrows with a ball of mud during high tide, trapping a pocket of air inside, and emerge when the tide recedes.
Northerh bayberry, typical of coastal habitats. The tiny berries are a food source for swallows and catbirds (I've read that Rails eat them also) and are also used in candlemaking.
Some of the hollies at Sandy Hook are thought to be as much as 170 years old. This tree was large, but was not the oldest among them. I loved the knobby look of the trunk. Today's walk was too short and quick for my liking, but it was nice to see this part of the holly forest. The area is normally closed to the public as it's part of a large wildlife management area. I didn't see any osprey or terns today, and the platform in the marsh was occupied by a greater black-backed gull when we walked past it. I saw a few migrating monarch butterflies, but the goldenrod isn't blooming just yet, so I can expect to see many more in the coming weeks.
I stole this meme from somewhere in the blogosphere and reworked some parts. Thought it might lead to some interesting reading if anyone else wants to give it a try.
Buddy doesn't like to have his picture taken and will nearly always turn away when the camera comes out. Maybe he figures he looks best in profile. I had wanted to get a pic of his tongue, but he would have none of it. He's a mix of Lab and Chow, so has black/purple spots on his tongue. That's the only way you'd know by looking at him that he's part Chow. He acts more like a Chow than a Lab; fearful of strangers and protective of his people. He's only a *happy-go-lucky* Lab with my husband and I. He has at least a hundred squeaky toys - half of which are usually spread around the living room and under the bed collecting dust bunnies. When he's not napping he loves to chase squirrels and bark at every person on foot that goes by the house. We call him "deputy dog" and he seems to like that name.
Are you sick of reading about beach plums yet? ;-) I think I ended up with about 6 quarts of plums after an hour or so of picking out at Sandy Hook on Sunday. I had no idea how many I'd need, so I just kept picking until my arm hurt from carrying the bucket, then I headed back. At home I washed and stemmed the plums and contemplated them for a while in the colander. I love the duskiness that clings to each plum, like dew.
Once they boiled for a while on the stove, the plums split and suddenly looked like cranberries. Kind of strange. I mashed them up a bit and then drained all of the juice out into a pryex bowl that wouldn't stain. 
Sorry for the fuzzy photo. I was left with 7 cups of juice - I froze 3 cups and used just 4 in my recipe. I added a whopping 6 cups of sugar and a box of Sure-Jell pectin and cooked it for a bit on the stove and then jarred it up with my husband's help. There are eight 8 oz. jars on the kitchen counter and tonight I finally sampled some. I was happy to see that the jar had sealed properly, and the jelly had the proper consistency -not runny! I don't have any nice bread in the house so I spread a little on a Ritz cracker with some cream cheese. It's nice, but very sweet and doesn't have the tart *bite* that I expect from beach plum jelly. I need to adjust the recipe before the next batch, maybe add a bit of lemon juice or something. 
