Berries

My supporting local farmers and gardeners has taken a step beyond going to the local farmer's market. This week I've gone out into the country to pick berries. Tuesday, I picked blackberries in a patch of thornless bushes. It was easy. The berries were huge and accessible. In an hour I had picked almost two gallons of the sweet berries. I forgot to take my camera, so I can't show the patch or the setting. But, here is a shot to show just how large some of the berries were.



I went to a blueberry patch today. Once I turned off the highway, it was so picturesque. I went down a hill to a little bridge across a brook, then up a winding single lane gravel road. Up,up,up it went through gardens, flowers, and orchards, past quaint little houses that hugged the hillside.
All the time following little numbered signs that counted down until you entered a large orchard and found this leanto where I got my picking bucket and instructions on where to pick. Note the bluetick hound dog, little kids, grandma, the kayak on the roof,etc.




I found the row where I was to pick and starting filling my special picking bucket which hung around my neck by a string. This is so you can use both hands to pick.



Picking blueberries is not hard, but it is slow work. Blueberries are pretty small and to fill your bucket takes a lot of berries, even when they are thick on the bushes.



At last after close to two hours of steadily picking while visiting with other pickers, I had enough for one day. Here's my full gallon bucket and my empty picking bucket.



As I paid for my haul, the woman who owns Grandfather Mountain Orchard said to remember I didn't have to wash the berries; they aren't sprayed. I didn't see a single bug except for a bee on any of the berries where I was picking. Nice to know I didn't poison myself while sampling the wares.

Boone woods in winter,

Bleak rhododendrons
furled green parasols chatter
in the icy rain.

Sitting around watching the ice melt.

Sounds like the height of retirement excitement doesn't it? Well, I'll take all this excitement I can get.

We had a ice storm. Yesterday and last night freezing rain fell steadily. Everything is covered with a thick coat of ice. The sun has come out and turned the countryside into crystal. Step outside. It sounds like a heavy, summer downpour. The ice is melting that quickly. Each drop a prism making its own rainbow as it falls. There are millions of them. Once and a while, I hear crashing as a larger section of ice slides off a wire or limb and smashes on the ground or pavement.

Having the time to take it all in is wonderful.

Wither Thou Goest

One week before Christmas, Boone and the rest of the High Country received a big snow dump. At the house we got 15 inches. Other areas nearby got up to two feet of beautiful snow. It was said, by those who know such things, to be the biggest single snow event in over 20 years.

Christmas eve freezing rain moved into the area. When it moved out it left broken trees, downed power lines and and a landscape coated by a half an inch of ice in its wake. Three counties were without electricity for the holidays. No heat certainly made cozying up to your relatives a lot more attractive. Our electricity was off for about 30 hours. We were lucky. Some others went several days before the crews got them back on line. It was the worst power outage since hurricane Hugo blew through in 1989 the paper declared.

On New Years Eve the wind picked up; the temperature began to drop and kept going down. The wind from the northwest howled through the trees and set them swaying. And so it will go for the next week. It's to be the longest cold spell (It's 6 this morning with negative wind chill.) in, you guessed it...20 years according to Ray's Weather Site.

I'm beginning to see a pattern here. I'm not looking forward to mosquito season.

External locus of control

You would think by this point in life that I would have be able to control myself. I can in so many areas. I pay my bills on time. I exercise regularly. My personal hygiene is good. I don't say everything that crosses my mind. I clean up after myself. I take care of our pets.And on and on and on. In other words, I am a mature, responsible adult. However, there is one area where I continually, consistently can't control myself: food and as a result weight. Despite my mental resolve to loose more weight before the end of the year, I have instead gained about seven pounds since we moved here.

I know all the rules about intake and output. I know what foods I should avoid. I know about portion control. I know to eat more slowly. I know that I should eat lots of fruit and vegetables. I know all this, but do I do it? My scales and tighter jeans say no. Because my weight is not just a vanity issue and has a direct bearing on my health, I am headed back to Weight Watchers. I will pay someone so that I can go in each week and be weighed under their eyes. Perhaps someday I will have internalized the ability to weigh myself and alter my habits when the scales start moving up.

Someday....

Eight Random Things

1. Sadie is exactly the color of the fallen oak leaves.

2. I bought a rosemary plant because I love the smell when you pass your hand over the leaves. I don’t like the taste of rosemary much. The plant has developed mildew and harbors bugs, so I probably wouldn’t use it for cooking anyway.

3. I think the downside of the internet is that it allows misinformation to be disseminated so easily.

4. Christmas trees have started going to market this week.

5. It is difficult to see the forest for the trees here.

6. Is it better to wait until they burn out to replace incandescent bulbs with CFLs or just do it now?

7. Why can I have a fire in the fireplace, but cannot burn these piles of leaves? Remember that wonderful smell?

8. We spend a lot of time trying to make sense of the acts of mad men.

Who knew?

There have been a number of pleasant surprises about living in the Appalachian high country in North Carolina. That there are few bugs including mosquitoes, makes sitting on the deck in the evenings pleasant. That there aren't snakes under every rock, log, leaf, or bush is a relief. And who knew that this area is the apple capital of the South?

I've been going regularly to the Watauga County Farmers' Market since we moved here. After years of living in produce poor Wyoming, I've loved being able to buy fresh, local produce which we gobble up. Relishing the changes in what's ready in the gardens as the season progresses. The past couple of weeks have seen the addition of brightly colored peppers, okra and apples. The apples are wonderful. I have lived away from an area where apples grow well so long that I forgot the taste difference between locally grown, recently picked and store bought. The difference is as striking as that of homegrown and hothouse tomatoes. And as tasty.

It's delightful to have the juice run down my chin as my teeth snap a bite off one of these North Carolina apples. And the varieties! So many I can't remember them all. There are the common ones, red and yellow Delicious, Gala, MacIntosh, Jonagold and Granny Smith as well as lesser known Cameo, Honey Crisp, Roma, and Cortlands. There are kinds I have not heard of Sweet Sixteen, Mutsu, Stayman and Tydeman's Red and more. One vendor told me that they raise one hundred varities in their orchards. I can hardly eat the one's I bring home from the market fast enough. How would anyone get through a hundred kinds?