Thursday, August 7 … 11:13 pm
Ideally we should all learn something new every day. And it doesn’t matter what we learn … just that we do it. That would be a good thing.
Unfortunately, I learned recently that my soil is hydrophobic. No, it’s not afraid of water~but it hates water. And in hating it, it repels it- COMPLETELY! I’ve never seen soil do this before. It’s crazy and cool and amazing to watch the beading up of the water on the soil’s surface – like that super hydrophobic substance you spray on your shoes to keep them dry! Cool for shoes – but not for soil because this condition really makes it hard for water to reach the roots and it takes the fun out of gardening!
The first round of flowers I planted were, stupidly on my part, a nice buffet for my local Odocoileus virginianus (white-tailed deer). Those flowers never had the chance to be hydro-anything! The second round of flowers I planted (seemingly not so tasty and deer resistant) withered and dried up leaving me with dead poufs and stalks. It would have been great if I had planted a garden of mini tumbleweeds!
It wasn’t until a trip to my local garden center that I was informed of the negative ions of the water repelling the negative ions of the soil (and vice versa) … and I was told to AMEND! So, I took home a cartload of vermicompost (aka: worm castings/doo doo) and poultry fertilizer (aka: chicken shit) and worked it into the silty soil in my flower beds and soaked it with a few thousand gallons of water making what looked more or less like quicksand/wet cement and I then planted round three. I’m hoping my new plants will survive and that the third time’s a charm … but, we’ll see and I’ll say AMEND to that!
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Pie … The Greenbank Farm is a 151 acre parcel of land that sits between the Admiralty Inlet and the Saratoga Passage on Whidbey Island, WA. The area was probably used by Native Americans for a very long time prior to a family purchasing the property in the early 1900’s. The barn, the oldest structure, dates back to 1904. About 15 years ago, after years as the largest loganberry farm in the states and subsequently a winery, the property was purchased by islanders wanting to save its natural beauty. Today there are several art galleries, a wine and cheese shop, a working farm, a pond and it is a venue for weddings, picnics, dog walking and hiking … and then there is the pie.
Whidbey Pies Cafe is located on the property and when you walk through the door to the cafe, you seemingly walk back in time – pretty much to any grandma’s country kitchen … (think Aunt Bee) circa 1950. It smells of coffee and roast turkey and sugar-sprinkled pie crust and the checkered curtains complete the picture and it is charming and just so darn cute (and it smells great, too)!
Before getting my pie I walked the hay meadow … a trail, of sorts, that winds up and down and around a hill overlooking the farm/area, forests and water. At the top I sat on a bench and was just awe-struck by the beauty everywhere around me. And the very best part is that I LIVE HERE! I am just so thrilled that I am here! It is just so gorgeous!
I sat there, atop that hill, looking at the waters off over my right shoulder with the mountains and forests of the Olympic peninsula beyond to the West. In front of me and to my left was the passage that flows past my home – beyond the sparking water was the mainland. I just soaked up the serenity of it all and sat there for the longest time watching the butterflies flit through the field and the white sails of sailboats out on the passage … until my thoughts turned to PIE.
Everyone (pretty much everyone) has told me I had to try the pie – so, I walked back down to the cafe and got a piece to go (in keeping with the history of the farm, I got loganberry – a hybrid of a blackberry and a red raspberry).
Well, it wasn’t until tonight that I actually ate that piece of pie. And I don’t know if it was better because it was midnight or just because it was from that cafe – but it was a mighty tasty piece of pie. I think I’ll try the huckleberry (similar to a blueberry) next time … or maybe the peach or blueberry or apple …
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Slugfest … Since moving here I have come to realize I love snails! Not to EAT (not escargot) … but, specifically, slugs! And, I’m sure, you’re thinking that I’ve lost it if I find watching a snail entertaining – but they are cooler and move much faster than you’d think!
My back deck is home to many of these creatures (shell-less terrestrial gastropod mollusks) which come out after dark and frequent my back door area – clinging, like wall-art, to my siding and sliding door. And I find them … well, cute … in a soft, slimy sort of way!
I’ve named the biggest one Seymour – he is about 7 inches long – brownish/tan with spots and when he is tooling around in his slug-way his little eyeball antennae are out waving around. I don’t know, but I get a kick out of him! Every night that he is out I sing to him – in my best “Audrey” voice – “Suddenly Seymour” (the song from Little Shop of Horrors). I don’t know if he likes it – but the dogs sure do and show their appreciation with a whole lot of body/tail wagging!
And, what did I learn today? I learned, while singing to Seymour (and the dogs), that if my neighbors hear me – belting out a song, off-key and to a slug – I don’t care. And, I think that’s a pretty good thing.