Chickens in the Compost Pile

This is one of the best ways I know to help aerate our compost pile. My black copper French Marans pullets and an old brown leghorn are searching for grubs. Yum.

MY GARDEN SHOES

My muddy, old barn shoes are not allowed inside, therefore, they reside next to the back door. Most of the time they are protected from the rain. (You know, that wet stuff that comes down from the heavens when Mother Nature decides to bless Arizona). Possibly She's forgotten us on her 2020 list, or maybe Santa told her about the pansies I forgot to water last summer. Whatever the reason, the shoes are not caked with mud, just chicken poop and mule manure.

I learned at a young age that shoes left at the back door are suspect for safe wearing the next day. Tiny snakes love to hide in the dark toe spaces, as well as lizards and insects. Beatles and other spiny insects are especially bad as they can become entangled in your socks. You just can't shake the creatures off - you first have to pry them away from the threads. Yuck. So, I'm especially careful during warn weather, and thump out the creatures before I put them on. Winter, not so much. Too cold for reptiles.

This morning I bopped the shoe heels and emptied my tenies. Nothing. I did manage to awaken a couple of lost rocks. Then I slid my left foot home and felt the crunch of something large, quickly tossing the shoe across the porch. 

I looked into the shoe and saw a faint outline of something familiar. A lost (and crunched) maple leaf. 

 

Kofa Wildlife Refuge

Highway 95 looking toward Kofa Wildlife Refuge. Tough place to live, but the mountains were colorful and spectacular.

 

 

Warbler

 Watched this lovely warbler grab and eat a tiny worm.I believe its a female yellow-rumped warbler, posing in the redbud tree. How can there be worms when the morning temperatures are 10-12 degrees?

 

Our Arizona Victory Garden - First The Soil

We have planted a garden every year for the last 40 years. Some are good, some not so good. But this year felt different. Slightly desperate, immediate and necessary. Victory Gardens are sprouting everywhere, and many new gardeners were created around the country. So here's some of our successful fruits (and veggies) of our labors.

FIRST... THE SOIL

In January 2020, we had no idea that we would be spending so much time at home, but nature has a way of creating new destiny. So our garden became our focus for daily rituals and renewal. 

We had already decided to put in raised garden beds. We were so fortunate to be able to find some railroad ties FREE on Craigslist. It was the first week of January, so the competition was less and Paul loaded 30 ties in our pickup and the hard work began...

1. After we planned our design, Paul dug trenches and plopped the ties. He worked hard fitting them into place and leveling, and then he took out all the old garden dirt (which contained lots of clay and crushed granite).

2. We were determined to build new soil with composted materials and let it "cook" during the winter months.  

3. We layered newspaper, leaves, compost, and mule manure. Watered each layer as it was placed down. Then we were blessed with regular rain and a little snow, so the materials underground were able to decompose into rich brown topsoil. We even saw heat coming from one bed!

 

 

A Meaningful Poem on Death

When Death Comes By Mary Oliver When death comes like the hungry bear in autumn; when death comes and takes all the bright coins from his purse   to buy me, and snaps the purse shut; when death comes like the measle-pox   when death comes like an iceberg between the shoulder blades,   I want to step through the door full of curiosity, wondering: what is it going to be like, that cottage of darkness?   And therefore I look upon everything as a brotherhood and a sisterhood, and I look upon time as no more than an idea, and I consider eternity as another possibility,   and I think of each life as a flower, as common as a field daisy, and as singular,   and each name a comfortable music in the mouth, tending, as all music does, toward silence,   and each body a lion of courage, and something precious to the earth.   When it's over, I want to say all my life I was a bride married to amazement. I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.   When it's over, I don't want to wonder if I have made of my life something particular, and real.   I don't want to find myself sighing and frightened, or full of argument.   I don't want to end up simply having visited this world

Afterthoughts and Us

All of the places 

and trails,

together 

you and I.

Over the mountains and

into our deserts, then

beyond the world we know.

 

Our steps a little slower

and mine less than yours,  

remembering the places we lay

laughing at ourselves

and crying for lost moments.

 

We once took it all so casually,

now looking back, I wonder.

 

One year isolated

on our own without what?

Will it ever be normal again?

and what exactly is normal?

Who is the judge?