Walking Iten's Acres: Prevarication May 25, 2013

I'm going to sue. Whom you ask? The weather channel, all the weatherpersons on the local channels, and the Farmer's Almanac. Why you ask? They declared that there would be no frost in Ohio after May 15th. Prevaricators. ("Liars" sounds so harsh.) Charges you ask? Extreme physical trauma. I should not have had to cover a zillion plants on May 24th. Severe emotional stress. It is impossible to cover all the plants that have come up that would be susceptible to frost on May 25th. I had to choose. Heartbreaking. Evidence you ask? We have them all on tape. Well, FA is on paper. "The frost date for Ohio is May 15th. You can go buy your flowers now and plant them worry free." Open and shut case--the wretches. Oh, don't give me this "we can't control the weather" excuse. Then, quit acting as if you can. Quit trying to be the Nostradamus of weather. (He didn't know what he was talking about either, by the way.) All that you own will be mine. Heh, heh. Hey, maybe it's a conspiracy? Maybe the nurseries pay them to say that? We buy our flowers, plant them, the frost comes. Flowerslaughter occurs. We beauty addicts have to go buy some more to replace the ones that got the cold shoulder. Hmmmmm. I'll have to have my lawyers check their bank statements. I will own the world.

Today at Iten's Acres: May 22, 2013

Today at Iten's Acres:
Do you want the good news first or the bad news?

Bad news: It's been a terrible, horrible, excruciatingly disappointing iris spring. Four of my beds that are usually loaded have either had only one bloom or as of now have only one bulb that hasn't even bloomed yet. My iris eyes are not smiling. And I don't think they're just running late because there aren't even any bulbs.

Good news: The ones that have bloomed are stunning. Look for the pictures on Saturday. Some real beauties. And several of them are first timers at the acres.

More good news: Wild turkey in the Back 40. She must have been just sitting in the tall grass watching me. Only when I turned to walk toward where she was concealed did she hit the air waves. Monstrous bird. Great aviator too. Called me something in turkish that I'm sure was not an "Oh, glad to see you chubby, old bald human." I was surprised. Maybe she has a nest back there? I'll have to stay away for awhile and see. Don't want to be a family wrecker.

More bad news: She almost gave me a heart attack. I am now 70--lost three years off my life. At least.

I'll end with good news: I've been trying since I moved here to find something that would thrive in my bog and add color to the Acres. Now, my gardening angels have added some monkey grass and just a tad of trollius, but no success for me. Well, along the edge I have some wild hyacinth, Japanese and Siberian Iris, and some hibiscus that have bloomed--but just along the edges. But, la di dah, this year I have three patches of gorgeous yellow water iris right in the middle of the bog! I planted them last fall under a great deal of skepticism. I mean, what flower enjoys being drowned for most of the year--submerged in swamp water? The answer: yellow flag iris. I repent of my skepticism and gladly do a bog dance!!

This Week at Iten's Acres: May 18, 2013

This Week at Iten's Acres:

It feels as if I tried to pack the whole month of May into five days. And the weirdness of the weather didn't help. Frost on Monday morning, eighty degrees by the end of the week, and a monsoon rain storm in between. Ah, well. I enjoyed sitting in the recliner, lights off, watching the storm move in: strong winds bending the trees, day night, day night as the lightning ricocheted across the acres, raucous thunder, and then torrents of rain turning the acres into a morass one more time this spring. Quite a storm.
The highlight of the week was, of course, loading down my little red wagon with tons of flowers from Baker's Acres. I always go back and forth between thinking I have enough to fill my planters to wondering if I need to get a few more. Invariably, by the time I've planted everything--and what a lovely day and a half that was--I"m a few plants short. My problem is I'm a "planter packer." I put lots of the little beauties in each pot. Can't help myself. Ah well. I can pick up a few more somewhere. Mom's container garden is luscious. Even though she's not here to enjoy it--and give her advice--I'm sure she would love it: snapdragons, petunia, geraniums, dianthus, marigolds, bright eyes, zinnia, dahlia, salvia, lantana--all her favorites. And the ruby throat has already checked them out and given his approval. I believe he may like the real thing better than the "fake" red "flower juice" in the feeder. (Actually, there's two of them, and the battle is raging for summer squatter rights.) Next, on the work schedule is some mulching and some weed thinning. With all the rain and the days I spent out of town, my beds are overrun. Not than I mind that much. Some of the weeds will be beautiful when they bloom. And the one's that don't will be overshadowed by the flowers. I am a little concerned that the cool, wet spring may limit my iris show. That would be depressing for an iris addict like myself. But maybe, they'll just be a little late this year. I certainly won't scold them for that.
The flower planting did cause me to put off mowing the front of the Acres the day before the storm. Ugh. And it's supposed to rain again tomorrow. The grass will be high again when--if--I can find a warm, sunny day to feed the bluebirds. They have been patiently sitting on the wires waiting for me to do my catering.
And, of course, Homesteader had her surgery this week. My sense of time was so discombobulated that I accidentally took her in a day early. They were gracious enough to take her anyway. Good thing. It's a major production to get her into the carrier. Wears an old man out. She's smarter than I am, a zillion times quicker than I am, and not the least bit interested in taking a ride in a cage. Perseverance won out, eventually. She's home now and doing great, though not exactly feeling fully frisky. Lots of nap time. In between name calling.
Yep, another week at the Acres has slipped away. Seems like a month, at least. But thankfully, it wasn't. Two more glorious weeks of May to go--and I promise to enjoy them. And I'm sure I'll post some pictures for you. Be patient!

Homesteader Update: May 15, 2013

It will be a traumatic day for the Homesteader--aka Nosy Rosy, aka white dish rag, aka CAT!! As of today there will be no chance of kittens in her future. I couldn't begin to imagine a whole house full of the furry troublemakers.
At least the day should be quiet and trauma free. No one to give me a "piece of her mind" about anything and everything. No one to try to kick me out of her recliner so she can comfortably watch what's going on outside on her Acres. No one to vainly pounce on the doorwindow in an attempt to attack the neighborhood chipmunks. No one to knock around her favorite new plaything--a plastic football--all over the house. I have no idea where she found it. But, ah, is it ever a noise maker. She must enjoy the unpredictability of its bounces. She plays with it everywhere. Amusing to watch, entertaining little creature. Well, it's not so entertaining at 4 A.M. I'm going to have to send her to obedience school so she can learn to tell time. Not that that would change anything. It is her house after all. But today and tonight it will be quiet and uneventful. I can type on the computer without her interference. I can eat without getting a lecture on sharing. I can sit in the recliner and read the paper without all the commentary, and the "Don't you think it's time to get out of my chair" blueyellow eyed stares. I can sleep all night. I can wake up on my own, not to the tune of paw prints up and down my back, a wet nose in my face, and "the get up lazy human" serenade. Ah, a day of peace. (It will be nice to have her back tomorrow. Hey! Quit reading between the parentheses!)

Backroads of Morrow County Update: May 5, 2013

It's glass half-full, glass half-empty time along the roads of Morrow County.

Some of my feathered friends are back. The red-winged blackbirds are everywhere, sitting on the wires, fussing at each other. The swallows are back skimming over the swamp having dinner. I saw a small green-blue heron there as well. But--no meadowlark yet. I hope they return again to the meadow down the road from me. I'll miss their voice in the choir if they don't spend a summer here. Not to mention the flashes of yellow and black disappearing into the tall grasses. And I have not yet seen the deep ethereal bluish flash of the indigo bunting as well. Bluer than the bluest sky.
Many of the trees are turning enviously green. But not all of them. And I doubt if any of them are completely full of green. (Conifers don't count!) Oh, they will be in full leaf soon. The hidden houses that were revealed through the winter's bareness will soon be invisible again. My cave in two or three weeks will be practically unnoticeable by those traveling down County Road 25--just the way an old bald recluse likes it.
The same flowering bushes and shrubs that are bursting with color on my acres are doing the same on everyone else's property as well. Though I must confess, some of my neighbors have different trees than I do--tulip trees and Bradford pears, for example--and some of them have bigger trees than I do, too. There are a plethora of huge lilac bushes around these parts. It will take a decade or so for my little lilacs to attain such heights of beauty. And, oh! to slow down and roll down the window is glorious. God's incense. Yes, there are multitudes of folks out here that as I pass their acres, I imagine that we would make fast friends--beautiful tree lovers must unite!
As I meander the backroads only about half the fields are plowed so far. As you know, I love their symmetry. I'm sure the others will get their parallel lines soon. It will be joyous--believe it or not--to watch the growth of summer crops. Even now, the process has begun. Seeds are dying, the growth will begin, early rains, latter rains, sunshine, abundant fruitfulness. In the fields and in life the progress is the same. It can't be rushed. And you must trust the grace of the God who brings the rain and the sun to do His work at His pace. It is totally beyond our power to control. May we all develop the patience and faith of the farmer.
I passed more than a few farmers doing their plowing. Huge green beasts chewing up the soil. You can see the dust settling from a mile away--long before you reach them at work in the fields. Impressive. But I will be taking trips into Amish territory so I can see the proud work horses pulling their plows. Gorgeous and impressive. Lovers of a hard day's toil.
Ah, most the birds are here. But the glass won't be full until the meadowlark arrives. And the indigo bunting. More than half the trees are green; but they are not all green yet, and none of them are completely clothed in their summer richness. And the hidden houses can still be seen by the traveler of the backroads. Jealously, some of my trees are only half as mature as my neighbors. All the beauty but half the size. Only half of the fields are plowed and planted. The mystery of growth is just beginning. But half the fields have not yet been churned into geometrical masterpieces, and I have not yet found any team of horses prancing in the joy of the labor they were created for. Indeed, the "glass is half empty," but I am not sad or disappointed. The joy of my wanderings on the backroads of Morrow County is to watch the "glass" fill up. Wouldn't have it any other way. A toast to the half-full glass of Morrow County. Beautiful!

Riding Iten's Acres: May 3, 2013

Riding Iten's Acres:
I spent the last two afternoons riding the Acres. For some, I suppose, cutting the grass would be a chore. I love it! Being outside, cruising the property, beheading a thousand dandelions, life is good. By mid-summer the barn swallows will join me for lunch when I cut the meadow and the wild area out back, and the blue birds will join me when I cut the front, winding my way among the flower beds. Today, it was just me and the robins. Well, the redwings fussed a bit when I cut near the pond, but they were a little subdued for them--guess there aren't any fledglings yet. The birds at the feeder just ignore me.
I am expanding the wild area a tad--again. I just am in love with God's wildness, and the beauty of the natural wildflowers of Ohio. Oh, I "seeded" the area with some daffodils, iris, lilies, monarda, spiderwort, and grape hyacinths. I threw in a few handfuls of wild flower seeds as well. Can't wait to see what happens this summer and fall. Don't worry, I still have plenty of meadow, the back forty, the orchard, and the rock garden out back, so it's still wide open. A park--minus the picnic tables.
The flowering trees and shrubs are magnificent--as I mentioned before: several redbuds, red and white crab apples, white and pink dogwoods, apple trees, pear trees, marsh marigold, red and white bleeding hearts, lilacs, azalea--color is everywhere painted on God's blue canvas. A few daffodils are still around--two or three dozen small white ones and the miniature golden bells are the last to bloom. They'll be around another ten days or so. A couple dozen tulips of various colors dot the flower beds and other areas, dozens of grape hyacinth are still blooming, the rock garden is a carpet of thrift and creeping phlox, and the first iris bloomed today. It caught me by surprise suddenly appearing in the rock garden. Two others are about to bloom--the usual early bloomers--a rosy white one and a yellow. Yes, all this beauty means my riding looks as if I'm in the middle of some city in rush hour traffic: stop and go, stop and go, stop and go. And sadly, my mower is a single seater so you'll have to walk the Acres if you want to see everything. Fear not! I will not run you over. Probably.
Two days of riding the Acres for the first time in 2013. I can't wait until it morphs into Feeding the Bluebirds and Feeding the swallows. Flying flowers are luscious too.

Walking Iten's Acres: May 1, 2013

It must be red day in the feathered kingdom: The rose-breasted grosbeak has arrived--well, the male anyway. The female has been here for a couple weeks already. And the ruby-throated hummingbird arrived today as well. I love red.

Today at Iten's Acres: May 1, 2013

Today at Iten's Acres:
My Gardening Angels didn't do much the five days that I was gone. I understand the weather didn't help much. My land is still wet and sloppy. It has been a rainy, cold spring. But there's two months to go. I will be patient. I will be patient. I will be patient. Though it is particularly difficult to do so with the iris. No sign of any buds yet. The winter of 2011 messed up my expectations. Last year things started blooming in February. This year they are back to normal--whatever normal is in Ohio. I guess, there really isn't such a thing as normal when it comes to Ohio.
Not that all is lost. Some daffodils are still blooming; in fact, a couple dozen or so haven't even bloomed yet. And that's not even counting the dozens of miniature golden bell daffodils that are just starting to add their yellow tiny trumpets to the beauty of the beds. Puddles of grape hyacinth are everywhere. Lots of tulips and more to go. The thrift and creeping phlox are warming up. And the flowering trees are raring to show off. The redbud are already living up to their name. The pear and apple trees--including the crab apples--are on the verge of brilliance. The dogwoods--white and pink--should be in full bloom by the end of the week. The flowering almond are sharing their pink view of the world, and one azalea has started to bloom. And everywhere--yes, everywhere--the Gardening Angels have sprinkled the world with violets--purples, whites, two-tones, even a few yellows. Sometimes the ordinary is so gorgeous I miss it. Thousands and thousands of dabs of color everywhere you look. Oh, and don't forget the bleeding hearts--whites and reds beautifying the shady areas everywhere.
I guess I owe the Gardening Angels an apology. The Acres, as May comes in, are a lovely place to take a nice long walk--or two, or three, or . . .