We got some heavy, wet snow last night and with the leaves still on the trees, it’s caused quite a mess. We lost three of our five apple trees that are producing, including hundreds of apples that hadn’t ripened yet, and about 30 other smaller trees plus a bunch of branches. Didn’t lost power, and no real damage to anything.
The ducks, though, are unfazed.
When you already have a garden, one of the best ways to benefit from it long-term is to save and store the seeds that your garden produces. Instead of buying seeds every year to plant, why not just save a few from each plant and use them again next year?
Of course, some plant seeds stay and store better than others. Also, letting certain plants get to the point where they are producing seeds can mean that they are not all that useful for consumption. But you can always plant an extra one or two and allow them to go to seed. Most plants produce more than enough seeds for you to have a viable garden the following year.
Aquatic plants and large-seeded plants (such as oak, avocado, etc) are very hard to store. Larger seeds tend to need a fair amount of moisture to remain viable, and the amount of moisture required will lead to fungal growth and rot in a short period of time. If you have oaks around, harvest the acorns and make nut butter right away. Let the squirrels bury the seeds for you, and you’ll have some new trees in a few years.
These seeds, unfortunately, really need to be planted right away in order for them to germinate. However, there are a wide variety of seeds that you can save all winter long, and maybe even for more than just a single winter.
Small seeded plants, like most garden vegetables, are relatively easy to save. These seeds are what’s called desiccant-tolerant. This means that they are able to survive and remain viable even when dried out.
Peas, carrots, beans, and herb seeds are all very hardy seeds that can handle being dried and stored for long periods of time before they lose their viability. However, you do have to be careful how you handle, dry, and store the seeds. You can’t just grab the seeds off of the plant, throw them in a baggie and then plant them next spring. Well, you could, but there are ways to improve the chance that those seeds produce healthy plants for your garden.
Seeds, like any other organic matter, are subject to rot if not handled properly. The reason an individual plant produces so many more seeds than is necessary is due to evolution. This adaption takes into account that a large portion of any seeds produced will either be eaten, rot, or not survive until adulthood.
By properly drying and storing those same seeds, however, you can greatly increase the amount of usable seeds you have. One individual plant will produce more seeds than you could possible use before the seeds are no longer any good.
The first and most important step in preserving seeds is drying them. In nature, most seeds spend the winter months frozen in the ground, where the ice crystals actually make the ground very dry. The seeds should be spread out in a shady, cool, dry place. Also, don’t make a pile of seeds, spread them out thinly on paper towels or something similar.
Properly dried seeds will show basically no flexibility. Beans and peas will be rock hard, and larger seeds will not bend. Obviously, larger seeds need more time to dry than smaller seeds.
If you live in an area with high humidity, then you will probably want to use a desiccant. Those little packages of silica gel that you get for free with a new pair of shoes are there for a reason: They make it so that your new shoes are not all moldy. They do the same thing for seeds, though you probably want to buy some silica gel instead of using the packages from your shoes.
Once the seeds are dry, place them in an air-tight container like a glass jar or baggie. Store them slightly below freezing, and they should be good for a very long time. Just try to think what a seed goes through before it germinates, and you can have an idea of what needs to be done to save them.
Saving and storing seeds is a long-running activity for those of us who garden and want to be self-sufficient. By properly drying and storing seeds from your garden, you can almost guarantee that you will never have to buy seeds again.
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Winter is approaching, and rather more quickly than I would really like. 
Sure, I’ve got the new stove and a shed chock full of dry hardwood, but I have to admit that I’ve really enjoyed our summer-like fall.
“They” are calling for snow next week, but we’ll see what happens.
I had an inkling that this was coming anyway. Yes, I know that it’s October and that it’s a reasonable assumption to think that we’ll be getting snow soon. But last Friday, I got home from work and opened the front door. I let Pico and the cats out to enjoy the sunshine and warm weather. But when I went inside the cabin, I found a sight that told me winter was right around the corner.
The big window was literally covered in ladybugs. The little ladies and gents like to winter in houses, and since my place is the only building around for quite a distance, it only makes sense that they would seek shelter with me. But the amount of ladybugs trying to get into my house told me that there would be cold and snow before the forecasters ever did.
Shortly after that, I made a trip to the outhouse. I don’t talk about my outhouse a lot because I figured that not many (if any) of you would really want to hear about it. But don’t worry, this story will not be rich in detail.
My outhouse is a piece of junk. It was apparently built for people even shorter than me, and has at different times been used for target practice. So despite the small door and low ceiling, there is actually quite a bit of cross-ventilation created by the small holes where the twenty-two caliber shells went through the walls.
As I was sitting there, I heard a familiar sound. It was the scratchy scramble of a mouse. There are a couple of mice that call the cabin home, but so far they stay in the walls and don’t really bother me. But a mouse in the outhouse, that’s something new.
I glanced around and noticed some small pieces of paper trapped in a spider web near the upper corner. I had accidentally left the toilet paper holder open, and the mouse had helped itself to some of the wrapper. As I looked around, I also noticed that one of the pieces of plywood that make up the ceiling was peeling apart. I caught a glimpse of something moving up there and decided that this was a better setup than having them move into the cabin.
A few days later, I was again entering the outhouse and movement caught my eye. Three very little mice were scrambling up from the seat to the ceiling. They were in no hurry, and mama mouse leisurely followed them up the wall and into their little nest.
I have to admit, those little mice were awfully cute. I had no intention of evicting them from their spot, and just need to remember to close the toilet paper holder. And at this point, I honestly hope they have enough shelter to get them through the winter. I mean, they did pick a crappy place to live.
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Growing up, I lived in only two houses. Both had fireplaces, so fall was 
always special to me. From eating roasted pumpkin seeds in front of the fire to cuddling under a blanket and watching a movie while the snow fell outside, we usually had a fire going if we were home for the night. I miss those days, but I have taken a big step towards making the cabin more like the home of my childhood.
Last week, my new (new to me) stove was delivered and installed. There’s a shiny new chimney poking up above the peak of the cabin, and gone is the huge black box that was my old woodstove. Of course, on the day the stove was delivered, it was close to seventy degrees out, so I could not get a fire going right away. That did not stop me from sitting and staring at the new stove with its nice glass doors, just beckoning me to get a fire going and sit there enjoying the flames for the first time in years.
After the delivery guys left and the stove was all set, I had to do something to get myself away from the stove. I won’t lie, I was giddy like a little school girl getting a new doll or videogame or whatever it is that giddy little girls get all giddy about nowadays.
I tore myself away and took Pico for a quick walk down the road. We don’t get a whole lot of traffic down here, so for about a mile down the road, we’re pretty much assured we won’t run into anyone. I take these opportunities to let Pico run around and smell whatever animal poop may be on the road. He loves it, and I love seeing how happy he is to add his scents to the markings of bear, bobcat, and fox.
But believe it or not, I had yet to see a fox out here. They’re not uncommon in this area, and it’s rarely more than a couple of weeks between sightings when I’m driving to or from work or town. As we crested the small rise in the road near my neighbor’s camp, Pico stopped suddenly. I looked up, and down the road about a hundred yards there stood a small red fox, more brown than red really.
He had seen us too, and as I sternly whispered “stay” to Pico, the fox stood his ground. He was turned broadside to us, and the deep rusty brown of his fur was shining in one of the few sunbeams poking through the trees. He and Pico stared at each other for a few seconds before Pico gave a quick wag of his tail.
The fox responded in kind, and slowly made his way across the rest of the road and into the fall woods. Pico looked up at me with his goofy grin and trotted off the pee on some small shrub on the roadside. I decided that we should turn around there, instead of getting too close to where the fox had been. I didn’t want Pico bothering him, and I didn’t want him bothering us either.
When we got back to the cabin, I realized that that was the first fox we had come across, and probably the first fox Pico had ever seen. I liked his reaction, and even though that very same fox could eventually end up with one of my chickens as his dinner, I was glad to have seen him just the same.
I impatiently waited another hour for the sun to go down, and got a small fire going in the new stove. I sat there and watched the flames licking the top of the stove, glad to be able to add to the ambiance of the cabin. If this place was lacking anything, it was lacking a fire you could see. The weather has still been too hot to have another fire, but now I’m in no rush. The stove is here, and long nights of sitting in front of the fire are something I can actually look forward to.
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The fire is crackling, the dew is settling and the full moon is so bright that I 
can clearly see the two does quietly munching on fallen apples in the lower field. They don’t seem to mind that Pico and I are outside, and quite frankly, I’m happy that they don’t.
Fall is here. About half of the hardwoods around have either lost all their leaves or are changing color as we speak. I think it’ll be a poor year for fall colors. Too many trees have already changed, and there are still plenty that are solid green. The colors are changing too slowly for there to be any real “peak” this year.
The other very noticeable change is the amount of daylight we are having. It’s starting to get dark around seven-thirty at night, as oppose to the nine or nine-fifteen of a few months ago. It’s more tolerable now, with the solar panel powering a couple of nice LED lights. But still, winter is coming and it won’t be all that long.
I’ve got a good stockpile of wood, well over two full cords, but I will still have to buy some to get me through. A few face cords should cover me, and I’m hoping that once the new wood stove is installed, it will prove to be more efficient than the old on. Even if it’s not, it will still be an improvement.
The shed is two-thirds full, and once it is really stocked up, I will feel much better. There’s a certain comfort in knowing that no matter what, I will at least have enough wood to get me trough my third winter out here. Plus, I have some extra in the old shed, acting as a security blanket, as well as insulation.
I’ve started picking some apples too. They’re not all quite ripe yet, but those that are have for the most part been good. Some are sweet and meaty, while two other trees are producing big apples that have a pleasant tartness to them. It’s fun to taste and look for good apples, and to know that pretty soon I’ll be filling my weekends and evenings making apple sauce, butter, jelly, and cider.
Well, the peaceful serenity of a crackling fire and chirping crickets has come to an abrupt end. Pico noticed (finally!) the two deer only a few hundred feet away. He barked as he took off after them, like he always does. He stood absolutely no chance of coming anywhere near catching a deer, but it was valiant, though loud, effort. Luckily for him and them that he doesn’t need to hunt for food.
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I’m sitting at the table, looking out the big window at the layer of frost 
covering everything. The car has a white windshield and the chicken coop has a good layer of frozen dew on it as well. I guess now that it’s September, there are going to be more and more days like this.
Now that fall is almost here, I’ve been thinking back on the summer. At the beginning, I was worried that this would be the summer that never was, what with snow until early June and then nothing but rain for quite a while too. Then there was the heat wave, followed by more rain. August was nice though. It was hot but not crazy hot, with some rain here and there. Of course, it rained almost exclusively on my days off each week, but what can you do?
Last night, I rebuilt the fire pit in the side yard. It was working fine, but I wanted a larger one out there. I dismantled the old pit and built a new one, about twice the size. The funny thing is that I didn’t add any rocks to it. The old pit just had so many rocks laying around not performing any function that there was a ready stockpile handy.
I got a fire going to enjoy the new pit, and since it was still daylight out and I was out of beer, I thought I’d do some work on the side yard. I tend to call this area the front yard, since this is what I see when I look out the big window. But my front door faces another direction, so the side yard it is.
In a way, the side yard is a much more active place than the front yard. I park and walk through the front yard a lot, and that’s where the big fire pit is as well. But the side yard is where the chickens are, the junk wood pile, the compost bin and the more manageable fire pit are. It’s also where the solar panel and the remnants of the garden are located.
As I stood there surveying the yard wondering what project I could start, I decided it could be something fun. The woodshed is done and almost full and the chickens are happy in their coop. The main projects I wanted to get done are done.
I’ve wanted a horseshoe pit out here for a while, and this seemed like a good time to start it. However, the most level part of the yard was covered in small balsam sprouts and other brush. I had already cleaned up the entangled pile of old metal roofing and burned a bunch of old lumber that was slowly rotting away under the apple tree. The ground was clear of debris, but not of brush.
I went to the shed and grabbed the scythe. I had never actually used one of these before, but when I saw leaned up against the outside of an antique shop, I had just given in to the impulse and purchased it. For twenty bucks, I got the scythe and an extra blade.
Walking back to the side yard with scythe in hand, I figured it would be best to have on steel-toed shoes. So with the proper foot wear in place, I attacked the lower part of the side yard with the scythe. I started out small on the goldenrod and tall grass, but soon got adventurous and tried my luck on a couple of the small balsams. To my amazement, the scythe sliced right through them. This was getting fun.
The huge blade on the scythe made short work of the brush, and I so had cleared a lot more than I intended to. There’s plenty of room now for the horseshoe pit as well as a couple of raised bed gardens. I had decided to do something fun for the night. I may have sweaty from all the work of swinging the scythe, but it sure was fun to me.
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I love it when a few moments of laziness lead to something good. I had weed whacked all 
around the big fire pit and hammock a couple weeks ago, but there was one section of lawn that I just buzzed through quickly, and I did a poor job on about a ten square foot area. Last night as I was moving some junk wood into the new wood rack, I caught a glimpse of some bright red in the slightly overgrown region: two wild strawberries.
Only one of the very small strawberries was ripe, so after taking a couple pictures of the first strawberries of the season, I popped the ripe one in my mouth. That was the first strawberry I’ve had in quite a while, and man was it delicious. There was enough flavor packed in that little pea-sized berry to make all the rain worthwhile.
After I stacked the wood, I sat back on the porch with a beer and put my feet up on the chicken cage. The little girls are getting bigger, and spend about a third of their time stretching their wings and preening the down feathers they’re losing. The other two thirds of their days are split evenly between eating and sleeping. They are having a good life so far.
When I brought them home earlier this week, I introduced Ed and Herbie to the chicks. I held Herbie over their cage and let him sniff and watch for a few minutes. He seemed to lose interest and eventually just wanted to get down out of my arms. Ed, on the other hand, when confronted with the chicks for the first time, recoiled and was wary of the chicks. They are tiny, but Ed was a little freaked out. For all his posing as a killer, he’s still just my little man who would have no idea what to do if he saw the girls outside of their cage.
As I sat on the porch letting the beer wash away the taste of the strawberry, I glanced out over the yard. The apple trees are starting to get heavy with small apples, and I can see the lime green berries starting to form on the blueberry bushes. With the drought last year, I got no fruit off of the property, but this year is shaping up to be a banner year for all the strawberry, raspberry, and blueberry plants. I know it’s early and anything could happen, but I have a feeling that I will have more wild food than I know what to do with.
I’m hoping that my friends with kids will come around later in the summer to help clear out some of the berries and apples. Besides making jam, apple sauce, cider and hopefully some applejack, I don’t really have any idea what to do with the bounty of fruit coming my way. Add to this the chicken eggs and garden veggies that will be appearing in the next couple of months, and I am facing a glut of food. Obviously, this is not a problem that requires any serious deliberation. I’m ok with apples and berries getting eaten by deer and other animals. I just hope that some of the bears around don’t get too cozy here. I may be facing a surplus of wild food, but a hungry bear could easily wipe out a lot of my apples, berries, and even the chickens. I don’t mind sharing, but a bear coming in here and eating all my stuff is not something that I would forward to.
Well, I woke up to pouring rain this morning. It’s really coming down, to the 
point where my alarm didn’t wake me up, the pounding of the rain on the tin shed roof did. All the windows are even closed due to the cold temperatures, and the rain was still loud enough to break my slumber. But at least it wasn’t snow coming down like this. The forecast has called for a chance of snow for the next few days, and while it wouldn’t be a major inconvenience to get some snow, it would be a little depressing. Plus, I’m worried about the apple trees.
Last spring when the warmth came early and was followed by a month of cold, all my apple blossoms were killed. In October, I found a whopping grand total of seven or eight apples. These meager offerings were spread out amongst almost twenty trees, and not a single one was edible. I only found one apple that wasn’t obviously bad, but when I bit into it, there was no sweetness or crunch. Just mush and blandness.
Last week, the apple trees really started to go crazy. After some unseasonably hot and dry conditions, spring sort of normalled out for a few weeks and gave us warm days, cool nights, and plenty of rain. Actually, up until the snow storm warnings, it’s been nice weather, and the plants are definitely noticing it. I got no apples, blueberries or raspberries last year due to the drought. The apple trees are white with flowers and the light green blossoms of the blueberry bushes are starting to emerge.
But now I’m worried about losing the entire apple crop yet again. I’ve only been able to taste a few of the apples out here, but a lot of these trees bear very different fruit than you find in the supermarket. Some were dull pink on the inside and others were bitter but smelled magnificent. I’m looking forward to seeing the whole range of non-homogenized fruit that they’ll produce.
But if we get more stupid snow tonight, I’m afraid the blossoms will go un-pollinated or freeze altogether, and I’ll be left with a weak and pathetic harvest. There are a few trees that haven’t bloomed yet, and I’m beginning to feel like those might be my safety backup supply. Hopefully they won’t be the only ones I get.
When I moved in to the cabin a couple of falls ago, the apples were a little too far gone to be of much use, and I had a lot of other things to accomplish that were more important that eating apples. I was excited with the variety but not prepared to take advantage of it. Now it just seems like a cruel hoax. I got that sweet first taste, and then they were taken from me without permission. I hope that last year was payment enough for them to come through this year.
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Well, I survived Winter Carnival, along with another monster snowstorm. So far this winter, I’d say that I’ve gotten between four and five feet of snow, most of it coming in two big storms. Luckily, I had a friend with a plow help me out this time, so I’m not having to hike in to the cabin. There’s no way I’m moving that much snow again. I’d rather hike than shovel.
Last week I house-sat for some friends of mine who live in Saranac Lake. It was glorious to have running hot water, fast internet and unlimited electricity. Out of the three though, I would still take hot water over the other two.
While I was there, I looked at their bookshelf, and saw a few books on bees. I remembered that they have bee hives, and I started to flip through the books they had. And of course, I now have an idea in my head for this coming spring and summer. Hopefully, this is one idea that will actually be beneficial in a number of ways.
I am definitely getting a bee hive. Last summer I wrote about bees and how interesting I think they are. And last spring I was going to make maple syrup, but didn’t get my act together in time to get a harvest of sap. The bees are going to be a good mix of trying to produce more off the land, getting a natural sweetener to use, and maybe helping out nature a little bit. Plus, my garden could use more than a little help.
I’m going to start off with one hive, but if it goes well this first year, I know I’ll get another one next spring. It’s kind of weird to be thinking about bees in the middle of winter, when there’s a foot or two of snow on the ground, but I am actually really excited to get going on this.
In addition to the honey, I’m hoping the bees will be beneficial to my apple trees. After last year’s lack of apples due to the odd weather back in March, I hope that this is the year I can spend some time on the trees and clean them up. Add bees into the mix, and I think the apple trees are going to be looking good.
I’m excited about this stuff because this is the kind of thing that can help get me through the winter. Thinking about the nice days when you can work outside in a t-shirt and shorts and the long hours of daylight definitely bring a ray of optimism into my view. The days are noticeably longer, my stove isn’t burning as much wood to keep the cabin warm most days, and the little birds at the feeders are still pretty fat for this time of year.
I can’t wait to add bees into this mix. They’ll be happy and well fed on apple blossoms and blueberry flowers. And the plants should be thriving with the steady supply of pollinators. And I will be basking in the sweetness of all their hard work.
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The best feature of my cabin is the big window. It’s probably four by four, with two smaller windows on either side that open to let in fresh air. With myself, a dog and two cats living in this one room cabin, fresh air is a precious and much needed commodity.
The big window is on the south side of the cabin, looking down the driveway and over what used to be the garden. I can see Lower Field, Left Trail, and last year’s junk wood pile. The old plow is right in front and a half-dozen apple trees are in plain view. I can see Whiteface Mountain, but only the summit.
There’s also two birdfeeders in front of the big window. This is Ed and Herbie’s entertainment. I get a lot of black-capped chickadees, but have also had blue jays, red-breasted nuthatches and house finches. I’ve seen deer, ruffed grouse, turkeys and porcupines through the big window too.
My solar panels are just outside, underneath the window so they can catch as much sun as possible during the shortening days as winter sets in. I have been really disappointed with my solar lights and radio. One of the lights stopped working altogether when I moved the panel outside. I looked at it today and was going to try re-wiring it, but noticed that the switch on the panel was in the “off” position. I’ll give it a day or two, but I have a feeling that I fixed the problem.
But looking out the window, I think about how this place makes me learn, and makes me want to learn. I didn’t know what a house finch was until some time this past February. I assumed that a red-breasted nuthatch was a weird looking chickadee. And I didn’t care or want to learn about taking care of apple trees.
Now I know some new birds, and am going to spend some time this winter reading up on the care of apples. I’d love to make apple jelly next fall, and use next winter to make applejack. (For those of you who don’t know what applejack is, you take hard cider and freeze it, then skim off the unfrozen alcohol. This is what Johnny Appleseed actually planted all those apple trees for.)
There’s about thirty apple trees out here. There’s about a dozen in Lower Field, and maybe ten in Upper Field. I’ve found a few more scattered throughout the woods too. When I moved out here last fall, there were some apples still on the trees, and a few were really good. It’s apparent that there are a number of varieties, but the trees haven’t been touched in years. I’d like to do some pruning and trimming to help get the apples going again.
This year there were basically no apples, but that was because they all bloomed in March when it was so warm, and then the blossoms got hit and killed by frost. It was a common problem up here. I’m hoping that by giving them some TLC next year, I can get a crop of all kinds of different kinds of apples. I bet the mix will make the applejack taste fantastic.
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