Archive for the ‘Uncategorized’ Category

For Indy

When I think about Indy leaving us, after all his wonderfully cuddly, quirky, agile years, the first thing that comes to my mind is how quiet homecomings will be.  I lived away from home for the majority of the time Indy was with my parents, and his welcomes and good mornings during my visits are a large pa1910107_505382218012_4632_nrt of what I know of Indy.  You could say they are seared into my aural memory.  The soft, low wooing that grows into a full-throated howl, which gives way to figure eights around and between your legs and ear-piercing cries of joy.  If Mom wasn’t around, we kids would encourage him, unleashing a tornado of yowls and yodeling and furious stump-tail wagging.  Coming home to silence must be heart breaking.  I hope Eowyn’s quiet wiggles and soft nuzzles are some comfort.

Apparently Indy’s reputation for vocal theatrics preceded him at agility trials.  But I’ll let you tell those stories. I’ll tell you about the quieter things.  And I’ll do it alternating between present and past tense… because it’s hard to let go.

Indy is very soft and makes a fantastic couch-potato cuddle buddy.  You bring the book or pick the show, he’ll keep your feet warm.  And your legs.  But be warned, he’s got a mean kick icanoeingf you try to tickle his foot pads while he’s snoozing.

Indy wasn’t a velcro dog.  He was more… poised.  A bit shy- aloof even.  I think part of it was his one cocked ear, like he was wearing a fancy hat and had styled himself just so, that prance in his step, and his dainty white paws that he always directed to walk around puddles, never through.  You got the impression that he was waiting to see how fun you were, or whether you could be convinced to give him a bite of your broccoli.  Once you had been judged “awesome” (as opposed to “meh”), the stump-tail wag would bubble up quickly, his chin would land in your lap, chest would press into your legs, one front paw and then the other would slink up onto your seat, and soon you’d have coy, doggie bedroom eyes and a wet nose inches from your face.

I remember being terrified of Indy’s sometimes overly-calm demeanor.  We’d be sitting on the stairs cuddling, him one step above me, our fsnowshoeingaces level.  He’d gaze at me lovingly with those eyes, then go absolutely still, focused intensely on my face. Before I knew it his tongue would be up my nose or my ear would be wet and lightning-quick nibbled, and he’d still have that damn placid look on his mug as I shrieked and wiped my face on my sleeve.

This is the same intense look that precedes a toy snatch, or a treat snatch.  However many dogs we had lined up to get treats, Indy always got the first one, whether you tossed it to him or not.  Sometimes you’d toss him the first to buy time to give another dog a treat, and he’d still snatch the second and third treats out of the air from what you thought was plenty far away. Nope. He’s got teleportation powers, that dog.

I also believe he had some Jedi mind trick skills going on- or at least thought he did.  Some dogs yelp and paw and jump to tell you they want to go on a walk or play fetch.  Indy just stared, head cocked. He’d look up at the toy shelf just outside the back door, then his eyes would drill into you, then he’d look back at the shelf, then stare intensely into your eyes- all silently.

And he can hear (or smell?) a banana being peeled from across the house.  I’d be in the kitchen, alone, crack open a banana, and .3 seconds later Indy was in the room.  How? Wha? How did..? Sigh… here, have a piece.  Kid loves raspberries too- Mom was lucky to sanddunesget any ripe ones to herself off the bushes in the backyard.  At my wedding, he helped himself to a rather large portion of the raspberry pie my cousin had made for my entourage.

He got in trouble one too many times for begging broccoli stems and pre-rinsing dishes as we cleared plates after dinner, and got banished from the dining area.  He would skulk out of from under the table as we stood up with our plates, slink out of the kitchen, and pout by the doorway until he was tossed a few veggie scraps.  Snap! Snap! his jaws would go.

One night we were in the kitchen making dinner.  Someone had trouble opening a bag of frozen peas- the bag tore open, spilling quite a few peas right into the dogs’ water bowl.  Indy vacuumed up the peas on the floor, then slowly dipped his muzzle into the water bowl to retrieve the peas at the bottom. He did this very calmly, small bubblets of air trickling out of hiDog piles nose and blooping up to the surface.  He ate those underwater peas one at a time, each time sinking his snout slowly in, nearly up to his eyeballs.  We were mesmerized. We may or may not have tossed many more peas into the water bowl for Indy to snorkle up.

Despite his princely avoidance of puddles, Indy loved adventure of all sorts. Hiking (the king of running back and forth to check on the fast group and the slow group), creek swimming, and canoeing (much improved when he wore a life jacket), snowshoeing (moved through the snow like a porpoise!), coyote harassing, hide-and-go-seek with any toy, frisbee at the park.  Unlike Oscar, who deposited his frisbee at the feet of the nearest person, Indy would take his time selecting who amongst us would provide the best throw.  I often felt like I was trying to get the cool kid to sit next to me in the cafeteria. His catching style was more calculated too- Oscar would leap to catch the disc as high as possible; Indy would bullet to the exact point that the frisbee would come down, catching it 2 feet from the ground without breaking stride.

Indy wasn’t above being a total goof-ball- he’d wrastle with Oscar and let Eowyn take him down with a thud. If the other dog lost interest, Indy would lay on his back and curve his spine around like a cat so that he could bite his own back feet and kick himself in the face. He’d yip and yowl to entice playmates, who predictably went for his exposed underside.

Indy’s cutest feature (besides his coy face) may have been his backside.  That tail- not too quick to wag, so all the more special when it did, those glorious haunch feathers- brushing them required a spoonful of peanut butter to be held up at Indy’s front side, and those sproingy jackrabbit feet.  After sprinting hard to catch a frisbee, that jaunty high-kick running style was both relaxed and cocky, white feet flashing victoriously behind him as he slowed down in a big arc.

Indy was a true companion to both of my parents and a great friend to my brother and I.  An entertainer, a comforting and energizing presence.  My Dad walked the dogs every morning, and every day during lunch and after work my Mom would come home and immediately play fetch or do some training in the back yard.  I believe her order of operations upon arriving home was: blow nose, go to the bathroom, play fetch. Then they went to play frisbee in the park every night. Every night!  Most well-stimulated dogs ever!  

The greatest silence and absence will be at my Mom’s side. They were  -are-  attached at the hips of their souls.  I wish her strength and courage.  She has many dogs in her past, and many to come in her future, and I hope they are all as wonderful.

Read Full Post »

The first few years we grew tomatoes in Seattle, we went to great lengths to ripen the loads and loads of green fruit still on the vines when the season was over. Come the October rains, the tomatoes begin to split and rot, the vines fall apart, and it’s impossible to find an unspoilt, red tomato still in the garden.

We tried harvesting all of them in their various states of ripeness and setting them out in the basement to ripen over the winter. We tried covering the vines with plastic cloche to protect them from the rain. We tried pulling up entire vines with green tomatoes still dangling, and hanging them upside down in the garage. Very few made it with any of these methods. Perhaps the most successful was stripping each vine of it’s flowers and leaves late in the summer- forcing them to pour all they had into their fruit (like Leslie Knope’s “going out of business sale”), but that still required foresight and willingness to admit the summer was nearly over.

Then, two years ago- and I can’t remember why- we used our green tomatoes green instead of struggling to ripen them. We made pickled green tomatoes (based on a combo of the basic pickle and garlic dill pickle recipes here), and they were the best thing ever. I loved them. David loved them. We barely had enough to give away over the holidays, and friends and family immediately demanded more. Thus we entered a new era and solved two problems: no more stressing out over un-ripe tomatoes, and no more need to to grow cucumbers (another thing we’d not had much success with, but after seeing Beth and Aaron’s huge, sweet cukes this summer I’m willing to try again!!).

Then, of course, we made things more complicated, and experienced near-total failure of all things green tomato over the next couple years.

The very next year, we actually selected a specific variety to leave green- a big, long roma type that could be sliced into spears like cucumbers. The first problem was that lots of them ripened before I could pick them green- they need to be totally green lest they get soft in the pickle jar. So I couldn’t keep up. Why not use them ripe? Because I was, at that point in time, opposed to saucing- something felt wrong about processing ripe tomatoes, even though these romas were pretty terrible slicing tomatoes. (I remember bringing my boss a quart of cherry and slicing tomatoes a few summers ago and being horrified the next day when he mentioned he and his wife had cooked them (GAH!) to have with pasta.) This year I discovered the glory that is homemade fresh tomato bloody Marys, so I can deal with ripe romas now.

The second problem is that, in our ever-tightening spiral toward Portlandia, we feel a need to live-ferment everything. In giant batches. Our first live-fermented green tomato batch went well- it produced delightfully savory pickles, the last few jars of which have managed to stay crisp and tasty in the fridge for a year now. The second batch turned out terribly, with white mold and a rotten taste that could not be washed off. This year I went back to vinegar pickling cherry tomatoes, but somehow they got squishy when processed in the water bath, perhaps because I used fruit from the volunteer plants. Very disappointing.

We’ve also attempted green tomato chutney two years in a row, both failures. The first batch was ruined by using brown instead of golden raisins, and my unwillingness to use as much sugar as called for. We canned it anyway, and it sits in our cupboard. The second batch, this year, I ruined by putting in lots of half-ripe tomatoes. It ended up tasting like ass-ketchup and didn’t even make it into jars.

This year in our new garden, I picked 5 huge mixing bowls of green tomatoes at the end of the season, stashed them in the basement, and was super excited to make all sorts of things. And then…. life and laziness happened…. and much to my surprise, half the tomatoes had started to get ripe in the basement. Shoot!! I managed to make just 3 jars of fridge pickles out of the remaining green fruit, and the half-ripe fruit gets eaten when ripe or thrown out if it rots first. Sigh.

Lessons learned:
1) Triage tomatoes into ripe saucing (freezer), ripe slicing (eat), and totally green (pickle immediately). Do not, under any circumstances, negotiate with half-ripe tomatoes.
2) Be prepared for massive failures, which could possibly be reduced in scale by not growing so many damn tomatoes in the first place.
3) If we do happen upon a good batch of pickles/chutney/anything, brag about it but don’t give so much of it away.

Read Full Post »

I’ve not attempted to grow carrots many times, but this year we grew amazing carrots. Here’s how, as best I can tell:

1. In the spring, tear up lawn, add compost and sand, rototill, rake soil into foot-high beds. (Now that we have established beds, this step will just become: add compost, fork into soil.)
2. Leave bed all spring and most of summer because you are busy doing other gardening. Weed occasionally, but mostly just neglect the bed. (I actually think this is very important, unintentional as it sounds, for reestablishing good soil structure after such thorough digging and raking of the bed. Carol Deppe, who writes The Resilient Gardener, claims that a good soaking after tilling the soil really helps rebuild soil structure by settling the soil particles together, but time and worms do the same thing. Planting a cover crop would also do the same thing, long as you pull it out by hand before you plant.)
3. In mid-late summer, weed the bed and very lightly fork-separate it. What does that mean? Take your digging fork, shove it into the ground every foot or half foot and lift up the chuck of soil that rests on it. Don’t bust up all the clods or rake the bed into a fine fluff. This seems counter-intuitive for growing nice big, straight carrots, but it worked.
4. Make inch-deep furrows in the soil, line with fluffy seed-start mix, and sow your seeds.
5. Mulch around the rows with straw, and try your best to keep the seed bed and young seedlings watered in the dry summer.
6. Thin early and often, then forget about your carrots (except to water fairly often) until “Holy crap these are effing huge!!!!”

My grandpa sent us the seeds for the purple carrots- they turned out incredibly well. Quite pretty and tasty. We roasted some last night with lemon juice and garlic and the color ran like beet juice.

Read Full Post »

2014 Tomato Review

Not sure why I need the date- ‘snot like I do this every year…

Anyway- brand new garden with tons of space for tomatoes, and we got a ton of varieties at the Seattle Tilth plant sale to try out. I think most of them can be found through Territorial Seed Co. Growing conditions: each protected by a wall-o-water until it was 2-3ft tall, periodic deep watering, mulched with straw, pinched out suckers at the beginning of the season then let them go wild, fertilized with 4-10-10 at transplant and first ripe fruit. Here are my thoughts on some of them:

Sungold: Still my all time favorite. Most productive, tastiest, prettiest, earliest to ripen, etc etc. If you can only plant one tomato, plant this one.

Black cherry: May have even better flavor than Sungold- it’s more… complex. Not nearly as productive, but a good one to try if you have the space.

Austin’s red pear: great taste, terrible texture. All of these went into the bloody mary mix. Seemed a shame not to eat them whole/fresh because they are so cute, but the texture was mealy and unbearable.

Red grape: powerhouse producer, good taste, fruits hold up well after picked, don’t fall apart in lunch box or left overs. Good for both fresh eating and juicing/saucing.

Isis candy: beautiful, but really thick skinned and hard to tell when they are ripe- consequently, I don’t know how I feel about the flavor.

Gilbertie sauce tomato: I don’t have much experience with sauce tomatoes. Are they all mealy?? These plants were super productive, huge tomatoes, but they turned out kind of hollow or “foamy” and were prone to rot. I expected them to be solid slabs of meat. Then again, we got this variety to pick green and serve as a cucumber substitute for pickles, so…

Jaune flame: gorgeous and tasty and pretty productive. My new favorite orange tomato.

Japanese black trifele: Um… these didn’t ripen until the season was over. Those three tomatoes were pretty tasty though!!

Momotaro: beautiful strong vines, perfect-looking tomatoes, good meaty flavor, and really split resistant when the rains came- this plant still looks perfect now when every other vine looks post-apocalyptic. Moderate production.

Mortgage lifter: produces humongous photo-worthy fruit. Quite meaty and tasty. Have prepared myself multiple dinners that consist solely of one of these beastly tomatoes. Moderately productive. Vines and fruit totally fall apart come rainy season.

Volunteer tomatoes: these came up in the patch where we dumped the worm bin as fertilizer. We let them go wild- no watering, no fertilizer, minimal trellis support. They all turned out to be cherry-size and they were amazingly productive!!! They are seeds from last year’s plants, which were all grown from Territorial Seed. I think 2 of the 6 plants made tomatoes tasty enough to eat fresh, the rest were mealy and watery. However, I picked a bazillion green tomatoes to pickle, and I’m sure those will turn out great because they have good, firm texture and cute shapes.

Read Full Post »

Amelia survives raccoon attack!

I’ve been lazy lately and don’t always close the coop door at night. This is partly because I forget, and partly because I once forgot to let the ladies out in the morning- they spent the whole day cooped up and I only realized an hour before dark that they hadn’t been out all day!

Anyways- my vigilance has been renewed after this morning’s events. Inka and I awoke to terrified squawking at 3:30am and raced out the back door to chase off the aggressor. In my scramble to grab a flashlight and my glasses, I missed what happened- it appeared that Inka had chased whatever it was off, but whatever it was had dragged Amelia and Agador out of the coop and still had Amelia.

Agador was missing some tail feathers. I put her back in the coop. The run was covered in swaths of Amelia’s grey and white striped feathers, some of them clumped together with what I assume was raccoon slobber. I heard no more clucking, and assuming Amelia was a goner, went back to bed feeling sick to my stomach. Random chicken death (where you find them keeled over in the coop one morning) is one thing, which may or may not be your fault, but terrifying death by sneaky, dexterous paws and sharp little teeth is another thing entirely, and was my fault.

(Conversely, when I did mouse experiments, if a mouse died accidentally I felt terrible, but if I killed it in purpose with good technique, that didn’t feel as bad. But I guess it’s all about suffering: good technique in animal husbandry, slaughter, and animal experiments minimizes suffering, while shitty technique (not locking the coop at night, a poorly aimed bullet, not being able to stick a vein) results in suffering, stress, and nausea for both of you.)

Magically, Amelia reappeared in the morning in the back yard. I was amazed and immediately mixed up some yogurt/cereal/flax seed glop for the ladies for breakfast to celebrate and help them recover from the stress. I didn’t have a clue as to where Amelia spent the rest of the night until I left the house to catch the bus- there were feathers in the front yard, too! She’s missing most of her tail and looks like her head was in someone’s little jaws, but seems ok. I’m hoping she doesn’t die of shock…

Suspected Raccoon: 0
Amelia: 1 (minus lots of feathers)
Sara: Lesson learned.





Read Full Post »

Thanks Aaron and Beth for the lovely greenhouse and Nicole and Isaac for the awesome compost tumbler! There ain’t much we love more than free-cycled stuff!

David managed to assemble the greenhouse in less than a day (he did this in the rain) and our newly acquired seedlings from the Seattle Tilth Edible Plant Sale got to spend the night in the greenhouse instead of the basement. (Usually I like to grow our starts from seed under a grow light, but since we just moved and haven’t set up yet, we decided to take advantage of the plant sale, at which I always spend too much money.)

I’m super excited about the greenhouse. Like, so so so excited. It’s only 6×8 feet, but it has a work bench running the length of each side that triples the grow light space I had in our old basement. There’s plenty of storage room under the benches, or room for drums of water to soak up and moderate heat from the sun. Plus, the greenhouse will allow seedlings to get quite tall before we have to move them outside. I imagine we could keep one or two finicky heirloom tomatoes in there in pots if we can vent it well enough during the heat of the summer, but I’ll mostly use it to start seeds in the winter, spring, and fall.

David and I are both pretty excited about the new composter too- this one is a horizontal rolling barrel that’s both bigger and easier to turn and load/unload than our end-over-end barrel composter. We’ll use this one for chicken manure and bedding, as most of our food scraps already go to the chickens or worm bins.

Whoo hoo!!




Read Full Post »

First, the exciting news- David and I finally bought a house after about a year of increasingly intense searching. It’s down in Highland Park in West Seattle and has a big yard that will be perfect for gardening…. once it dries out! Last week’s rains left the downhill side of the lawn a totally soggy mess (the bad news).

The rains might be fine if we already had garden beds set up- I would just start transplants under the grow light and plunk them in the raised beds at three weeks old. Raised beds tend to dry out faster in the spring than in-ground beds, and planting transplants removes the chance of the seeds rotting in the wet soil before they can sprout.

Sadly, as we just acquired the house last week, we need to do a fair amount of work tearing up lawn, bringing in sand and compost, sculpting raised beds, etc before we can start planting, and the yard needs to dry out substantially before we do those things, lest all the digging destroy the soil structure and turn the entire plot to cement.

So… What to do? Wait? But I have asparagus roots coming in the mail from Territorial this week!! Add dry soil on top of the lawn to form garden beds? Hmmm… That doesn’t really solve the drainage problem. We are thinking of digging a big trench in the soggiest area, filling the bottom with gravel and filling in the top with sandy soil, but will the digging create impenetrable walls of dirt cement that worms won’t be able to navigate through? Sigh… If only we had found the house last fall…

Read Full Post »

I wrote about my family’s Australian shepherd Oscar a few years ago when he developed kidney disease and was no longer strong enough to perform his legendary frisbee-catching leaps. Now I write to say adios, Oscar, and to thank my parents for taking care of him so extraordinarily for so long.

I thought each visit to Boise might be the last time I got to see him and scratch his massive head, but he kept on trucking through a stroke, incontinence, and near-hind end paralysis- playing fetch and leaning in (and then collapsing) for scritches until he could no longer move. For the last couple years, upon coming home for Christmas or summer vacation, we were greeted by Oscar’s eager, increasingly Joker-esque face- the stroke had weakened one side of his body and now his head was permanently cocked to the side with a half-crazed smile. He could only eat and drink out of the right side of his mouth, could only turn right, and often got stuck in corners or amongst the table legs until someone rescued him (much like i imagine a disfunctioning Roomba would, if a Roomba could handle the massive amounts of dog hair present in every house i’ve ever lived in.)

Near the end, his back legs were fairly useless and he supported his increasingly frail frame on his front legs. My parents had covered the tiled kitchen floor (where he had to stay after he became incontinent) with rugs to give him enough traction to get around. Watching him pad around the back yard from my bedroom window, i was reminded of a horse costume worn by two people- the person wearing the head and front legs directs where the body goes- the hind end stumbles along blindly, out of step with the front.

After his stroke, Oscar really enjoyed being outside, even when it was cold and snowing. My parents built him several little forts in the back yard- under a picnic table, under the porch swing- where he could stay dry and warm. He still enjoyed playing fetch even when his body wouldn’t do what he asked, and would still scramble up the back stairs to the lawn when my mom got the frisbees out every day, little poops falling out of his butt on the way up- i guess he had to choose between controlling legs or sphincter!

One benefit to Oscar’s weakness was that it was much easier for my parents to groom him. No longer did my dad have to put him in a headlock between his legs in order to brush his fur or his teeth. He used to snap ferociously when we tried to detangle his fluffy haunches, chomping his nubby canines that were worn down by the time he was one year old. Before we adopted him, he had spent the first year of his life stuck in a barn, gnawing frantically on the wooden door because he wasn’t allowed out to chase the horses. When Oscar was 10 and it was no longer good for him to do agility trials, my mom tried him out herding sheep. He bolted into the pen and began tearing large chunks of wool off of the sheep. The instructor told my mom to bring him back when he was 14. She stuck with frisbees and stuffed toys.

The last time i saw Oscar was this past holiday vacation. We had invited the entire clan of in-laws over for dinner a couple days after Christmas. The younger, non-kid-friendly aussies were in their crates upstairs, Oscar was chillin’ outside, and we had cleared all the rugs from the kitchen so that the many people helping us cook and serve could navigate more easily without tripping. Our niece Leila is quite the mobile toddler now and absolutely loves dogs. She caught a glimpse of Oscar leering through the window from outside and let him into the house. He leaned heavily as we brought him into the kitchen, where he collapsed in a happy heap to be smothered with kisses and hugs from Leila. She cooed and wrapped her tiny arms around his neck, burying her fingers in the large amounts of fur that hid his fragile body, and he seemed unfazed to be kissed between the eyes so many times.

Gawd. What a fantastic, wonderful dog. Just the epitome of a good dog. I hope every person is lucky enough to adopt at least one dog like Oscar, and I hope every Oscar out there finds a good home.

Read Full Post »

Very glad to hear about increasing efforts to replace lawns in the SW with more water-friendly landscaping, though it is true, there’s nothing quite like a lawn to nap and play frisbee barefoot on. This is one instance where I support genetic engineering- soft, foot traffic-tolerant, drought-resistant lawns would be fantastic!

Read Full Post »

Jamaica turns to the earth

Suddenly I want to go to Jamaica. To learn, to help, to figure out how to give momentum to the same movement in the US. I always forget that everything revolves around money- here it’s much cheaper to buy food produced on giant farms halfway across the country. If we could figure out how to incorporate the cost of pollution, climate change, and dwindling health into conventionally produced food, growing our own and buying at farmers markets might very well become less expensive.

Read Full Post »

Older Posts »