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Mid-January, Rain - January 13, 2012
Almost Midwinter - December 14, 2011
Saturday, Noonish, Sunny - November 05, 2011
October, White - October 31, 2011
October, 2011 - October 04, 2011


March 26, 2011

12:24 p.m.

Farmer's Log

I got a new pair of loppers yesterday and commenced cutting back some of the forsythia at the back corner, where the chicken coop will go. Karl will scrape this out with the tractor eventually, but meanwhile I am clearing a wider swath so it�s easier to get ladders and wheelbarrows around the house, should the need arise. My attention span for a job like this is pretty short, so I did a few feet of it and then meandered down the little slope at the southeast side, where I�ve hardly ever been. It�s easy to see what�s actually going on right now because nothing has leafed out yet. There are several dead azaleas, a bunch of bushes that look intentionally planted but now gone wild, masses of wild rose with the most aggressive thorns I�ve ever encountered, and bittersweet galore. I continued cutting lots of these at the bases, knowing they�ll grow bak if not uprooted, but not having the tools to really eradicate them. (Read: tractor. Couldn�t get a tractor down there yet anyway.) I finally retrieved a few plastic bags hooked onto branches that I�ve been seeing every time I come up the driveway. The big flat top stone at the corner of the wall apparently fell off a long time ago, and I hacked through some thorns to get it � but it�s partially buried in bittersweet root and I couldn�t lift it. A job for another time, when the lower yard is cleared.

I also found a deer trail (tracks in mud), some rabbit poo, and a couple of big piles of predator scat � fox maybe, but this looks bigger, so might even be the black coyote I saw the first year. There were downy feathers in it.

There is wonderful potential down there for a shady garden, walking paths and sitting places. If there is a Secret Garden on this property, that might be it; the most neglected part, yet there are traces of Anna�s love for plants, the ancient, rotting azaleas, the mostly dead rhododendron, an unexpected, thick clump of some bulbs emerging from last year�s leaves, probably too shaded to bloom any more. Many saplings, of course, have come up in the last 25 years, but could be cleared once there is a way to get the tractor in. It�s a moist area at times. At least one drain pipe, from the front gutter, empties out the side of the slope, and I expect the back one does too, though I haven�t found it yet. One picks one�s way carefully, so far, through prickles and deadwood. In years to come this will be a pleasure to recreate into another beautiful retreat.

Around the corner from all this potential is the mass of autumn olive and whatnot by the driveway, next to the lower yard. This used to be a play area for the former owners� kids. There are the remains of a rusty old swingset, tipped over in the brush. I had thought to leave some of the autumn olive, considering the possibilities of jam and fruit leather, but I never got around to picking any last year and I realize the work involved won�t offer enough reward to justify leaving them. All of that can be cleared. The lower yard will be twice as big then, and I can do something fabulous with it like planting a blueberry patch or placing my redbud tree there.

All of this is to say that this year, Dar and I do need to look into getting a tractor. I�ve been looking at the old 8N or 9N tractors, which are plentiful and many are restored and in good working order.

This afternoon I must make some headway processing some more wood. There is still about a third of the hickory to cut, on the other side of the garden, and I think I will begin with that. It burns a lot better than the 2-year seasoned cordwood I bought; the purchased wood is so light and dry it goes in a flash, and the pieces are quite small compared to what we do ourselves. Smaller pieces = more surface area = shorter burn time. Hickory is beautiful. Karl says it�s a bitch to cut, and it�s certainly heavy to tote. But I give thanks to that huge, dead tree and the grapevine that sent it on to its next use, every time I put a piece in the stove. I will be mindful of this every time I down a tree on this property that needs to be culled. It will keep me warm two winters hence.

That, and some more pruning, will constitute my chores for the day.


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