(ANOTHER) NOXIOUS EFFLUVIUM

Taken "out south" Sunday evening (July 11) in smokey conditions

“It doesn’t smell good in here,” I complained to Mike, "and it seems to be coming from the mechanical room.”

“Okay,” he said, but then we got busy and did nothing about it until later in the afternoon when I could stand it no more. One of those box traps used by commercial facilities was there in that room, so I gingerly lifted it – as if it would suddenly come to life and scare me – and left it on the porch for Mike to check. No, I didn’t look in.

“I see you found the source of the smell,” said Mike later. He said there were three mice in it, one of them fresh. He said he never smelled it, but I say he just wasn’t paying attention. Problem solved – for now.

Mike and I vacillated over picking our Lapins sweet cherries. Twice we went out to pick and talked ourselves out of it, thinking they weren’t quite ripe. But Thursday (July 8), I said we should just get it done, and Mike agreed. I don’t think they were ripe, but I felt if we left them longer, we would risk losing more of the fruit. We picked two gallons, which is more than we can eat, so on Friday washed, pitted, and packaged cherries for the freezer. I used them in pies last year, and we thought they were good. In the end, I had three quart-sized bags and part of another.

The cherry tree was infested with ants. They didn’t bother Mike, but I was plagued as I picked. We finally sprinkled ant bait, and we must remember to do so next year. Some of the cherries had been nibbled, and I don’t know if it was the birds or just the ants.

We had swathed the cherry tree with netting, but it occurred to me that I could make netting sleeves for the branches that might provide more protection. I researched “netting sleeves for fruit trees,” and to my surprise, that’s a thing! I am validated! I have yards and yards of netting, so I’ll just make some.

We’ve eaten two of our “Siletz” tomatoes, and they were delicious. We’ll have the third this evening with our turkey burgers. There’s just nothing like a homegrown tomato, and these did not disappoint. I had never heard of “Siletz,” but it was the only variety available in the garden department of North 40. Turns out it was a good choice – disease resistant and drought tolerant. The tomatoes are meaty and don’t have many seeds. Supposedly, the plant puts on more fruit during the season, but ours is slow. I see three young fruits and few blossoms.

Sunday evening -- a beautiful golden glow through smoke

It's still smokey here, just as it is everywhere in the West, I hear. 

 

 

Watch tomorrow for more photo images, this time from 1950 taken by Earle Dobson. KW

A STEP BACK IN TIME

Photo 1 -- from south field toward house

The photos here were taken at the farm by my dad, Vance Dobson, in 1959. In those days, you know, the photographer fiddled with a light meter and set the camera accordingly. Perhaps professional photographers still do, at least to some extent. If I had to do it -- well, I just wouldn't. 

Photo 2

These images are from color slides, and they have deteriorated over the years. Still, we can make out the image.

Photo 3

My dad's pictures differ from mine, and in fact, I see this with Uncle Earle's photos as well. There aren't many of the house, nor are there many of the canyon to the south. Photos tend to look northward. There are no photos from the lane or even from the road looking back to the house, which is one of my favorite shots. To see the house come into view as we move down Plank's Pitch is so nostalgic to me.

Photo 4

Of course, Daddy didn't walk -- not like I do.  And on the other hand, he was much more familiar with views from the fields.

Photo 5

I find that I cannot pinpoint the location of several of these photos. Even though the land doesn't change, the vegetation does, and those bushes and clumps of trees that might have provided clues are gone now. Perhaps brother Chuck will weigh in with comments.

UPDATE: Photo identification from Chuck:

Photo 1: From the south looking back to the house and yard (to right of center).

Photo 2: Taken from front yard looking south. Light streak is south field. The pine tree and bushes are gone now. The little bush on right was probably one of Ina's peonies.

Photo 3: Chuck calls this the lane on the south side of the pond, but there's no lane there now, and the trees are gone.

Photo 4: This one I know! It's in the grove looking north, and I think the tree just left of center is the one that Mike is now making into firewood. Hallie said it was at least 100 years old, so in 1959, it was probably 40-50 years old.

Photo 5: And Chuck says this one is on the southwest side of the house. In other words, it was taken behind the house from about where the bramble bush is today looking into the same gully as Photo 3. KW

THE LONG, HOT SUMMER

My companion Bess at the north field

This morning over breakfast, we read an article that outlined where regional wildfires are burning. Suffice it to say that there are many and resources are already strained. In some places, residents are forced to evacuate. The smoke will be ongoing for some time. It hides our land features and obscures the sun. The world looks surreal.

Smoke obscures the canyon

One fire burns in the vicinity of our “town house.” An article in the local paper on Friday (July 9) seemed to say that our neighborhood was at evacuation Level 2 (pack your bag and get ready to leave). Concerned, I called a friend who lives a couple of blocks from us, and she assured me that it wasn’t as bad for our neighborhood as the paper made it sound. She suggested we not return to town due to the smoke. And then she said she would call me if there was a change for the worse.

Reassured that our house was reasonably safe, we postponed our trip to town, opting instead to ask son Clint to check on it, which he did.

From Plank's Pitch toward Central Ridge

Looking across June's field to the farmhouse

Mike rode his bike to Nezperce and beyond Saturday morning, and I took Bess for her walk. She found a small bone on the road which she proudly carried the rest of the way. She marched right along, leaving me behind. When I was at the bottom of the lane, she was already rounding the corner at the top, and as I entered the yard, she was coming out of the grove where I’m sure she buried her treasure.

Winter Wheat quickly ripens in heat

Our fields are in winter wheat (planted in the fall) this year, and the regional agriculture report said that the quality and yield will be down. Spring wheat might be a loss owing to heat and drought. Haying and harvest ae in progress here and there.

American Coots on Pete's Pond

I fill the hummingbird feeders as soon as I get up, again at noon, and again at 5:00 p.m. I make a quart of nectar every day. This morning I watched while a doe made her way through the field west of the pond. Every now and then, a little head would bob up from behind her. Bess and I saw two bunnies in the lane who quickly ran under the black hawthorn tree. And last week we saw a baby coyote trying to hide in a culvert on the road. A family of American Coots is living on Pete’s Pond. And a flicker nibbles on the house at daybreak.

Oh! And I almost forgot about the rattlesnake that Bess and Mike saw at the top of the lane the other day. That's #2 for this season. It wasn't large, and there is no photo. KW

ICEBOX LEMON PIE

As of this writing, an icebox lemon pie is chilling in the fridge. Mike must have read our discussion of icebox lemon pie on a previous post. “Would you like me to make ice cream, or do you think icebox lemon pie would be a nice change of pace?” Hmmmm.

As it happened, I had plenty of lemons because I had intended to make jelly, but with the current draw on the hummingbird nectar, I couldn’t spare the sugar. And I had an extra can of sweetened condensed milk, plenty of eggs, and a Graham cracker crust, so I agreed to make the pie.

This simple recipe came to me from Bennie, my mother-in-law, and of course, it’s Mike’s favorite, so I don’t mess with it – much. Her recipe calls for ½ cup lemon juice, one can sweetened condensed milk, and two egg yolks for the filling, and then a meringue made with two egg whites. I increased it to three egg yolks and three egg whites, mostly because I want more meringue, but the filling also seems skimpy to me. I think that mid-century a can of condensed milk was several ounces larger.

When it came time to whip the egg whites, Mike undertook to do it with an old-fashioned egg beater. He did all right through the “soft peaks” stage, but when I explained that he had to keep at it until stiff peaks formed, he decided I could finish with the stand mixer.  

It was a good pie. Sorry you weren’t here to help eat it, but at least I provided the recipe so that you can make your own. KW

 

ROLL OUT THOSE LAZY, HAZY, CRAZY DAYS OF SUMMER

And hazy they are now that the wildfire season is upon us. The fire doesn’t have to be close in order to affect our environment.

Mike and I have been watching the Lapins cherry tree for ripeness. We thought to pick them yesterday but decided they really do need a few more days. There’s some evidence that the birds are also sampling for doneness, so we’ll see who gets the most fruit.

Son Clint drove out to spend a few hours here on Monday. His visit was the highlight of our holiday weekend.

Narrow-leaf plantain

Mike installed a plant identification app on his phone, and we’re enjoying it. For instance, he has learned that the weed that has totally overtaken our yard here is narrow-leaf plantain. Not a surprise that it takes off in compacted soil where the grass is poor and the soil dry. We do have some good soil here and there, and in those areas, the grass is healthy and the plantain sparse. And this is in line with information I have read: a healthy lawn will crowd out the plantain, but if the grass isn’t healthy, the plantain will take over. Watering might help, but we don’t do that here. We would like a lovely lawn, but it’s not in the cards. So, this morning Mike is mowing the plantain, a dusty job.

Mike splitting wood in the grove

Having carried a load of wood to town and splitting most of it for Ken, this trip we brought Mike’s electric wood splitter with us. Late in the afternoon, when the grove is in shade, Mike splits a 4-wheeler trailer load or two and hauls it to the barn to add to our lifetime supply of pine firewood. Mike says splitting wood is his new hobby. KW

IN THE COOL, COOL, COOL OF THE EVENING . . .

Eating outside

Evenings have been warm. We have to wait for the wee hours of the morning for those cool temps. The box fan running all night in the east dormer window does a nice job of cooling the upstairs, but it’s still warm up there when we go to bed.

On the Fourth of July weekend, we naturally think of outdoor activities. I come from a tradition of summertime backyard potluck picnics. Sister Harriet remembered those better than I. I don’t really know that these picnics happened as often as she said, but maybe they did in the era before air conditioning and television changed our lives forever. And it’s not just that either. As the people involved began to pass out of the picture, the group dynamic changed.

Breakfast in the backyard

Eating outside can be fun but involves some work – setting up tables and chairs, carrying out the food and utensils, then carrying it all back in and cleaning up. Back in the day, my parents had help from my older siblings, but of course, everyone would help.

And when it came to the food, I think we didn’t make so much of it as we do today. Perhaps someone fried chicken and someone else brought potato salad. Beyond that, it was no big deal how it fell together. It was not a barbecue but a summer potluck picnic. Everyone just brought something to share. Harriet said one of the reasons for these gatherings was to share the bounty of vegetable gardens.

If we had such a picnic today, I wouldn’t be sharing from my garden. Nothing much is happening there. “In the cool, cool, cool of the evening, tell ‘em I’ll be there,” but I’ll have to bring icebox lemon pie or Rice Krispy treats or a bag of chips. KW

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