Good-bye Spring, Hello Summer

I’ve long prided myself on not being a computer addict. I don’t have to be on a device constantly like so many people these days. I don’t have a cell phone, i-Pad, or any other portable device that keeps me online all the time no matter where I am. I just have this old fashioned desk top PC that lets me sit in a room in remote Gold, Pennsylvania, and have a certain amount of interaction with the larger world. Last week when this computer crashed, I came to a sudden realization that I’m hooked. For three days it didn’t work. For three days I found myself headed toward the dead screen to look up some bit of information, do some family history research, check the news, look at the weather forecast, see who was on facebook, load some photos off my camera, or play a little Words With Friends. And when I remembered that I couldn’t do any of that, I felt a pang of regret, anxiety, annoyance, frustration. Hello, my name is Dan and I’m a computer addict. I don’t think I’m hardcore, but I definitely want/need to interact with this machine several times a day. Luckily, the problem with the computer was solved through the efforts of Josiah and Geoffrey. It turns out the problem may have been my fault to begin with. It seems someone allowed a piece of malware to get loaded. I don’t know why I’m the one assumed to be guilty. Anyway, that’s all in the past and lessons have been learned and such mistakes will not be repeated. I feel at peace again and one with the universe via the glories of the internet.

All week June continued to dazzle us with her gorgeous mornings, perfect days, and wondrous nights. Even the rainy days and foggy mornings were beautiful. I didn’t spend a moment indoors if I could be outside doing something. The mornings are still cool, but they quickly warm when the sun comes up over the hill. The dawn chorus of the birds begins at about 4:30 beginning with the wrens (Sarah’s favorite songsters). The mock orange bushes are in bloom and in the warm afternoons and evenings, the air is sweet with their perfume. The smell of mock orange triggers many happy childhood memories in me. It is the smell of the first days of summer, of putting on shorts and going barefoot for the first time, of sitting in the shade and reading book after book, of long evenings and cool shadows and fireflies blinking in the dark.

The mock orange bush in the front yard.

Mock orange blossoms.

In the flower garden, the lupines are fading and the irises are gone, but  the poppies are amazing with their huge blossoms and bright colors.

Poppies.

More poppies.

And more poppies.

My vegetable garden is growing but I’m a little concerned. You might remember that I’m trying a new method of gardening using straw bales. I prepared the bales weeks in advance by infusing them with fertilizer and getting them to rot into compost on the inside. I’ve planted everything thing now. Some things are doing okay. The tomatoes seem to be growing well. The peppers are a little slow, but that might be because it’s been cool and they like heat. Onions haven’t done so well. I had to replant them after the first planting failed and the second planting looks puny. With the beans, cabbage, broccoli, and cauliflower, squash, and cucumbers, it’s too soon to tell. They seem a bit spindly. My potatoes really have me worried. I put my seed potatoes in the bales the same day Kurt planted his the old fashioned way in the ground. His came up right away, mine didn’t. I’ve watched and worried. Finally some of them are beginning to emerge through the top of the bales and are growing, but they’re not as far along as Kurt’s. The ones that have come up look very healthy and I think they’ll catch up. I hope this method works. I’ve invested (perhaps foolishly) my whole harvest in it.

Josiah is building a stone retaining wall and stairs for his Aunt Julie and we had to go in search of stones. We borrowed our neighbor’s Ranger and drove up onto the hill above Gold. It took us a while to locate the stone pile, but we enjoyed the scenery. These June days are so fine, it’s always a joy to be out in it.

On the hill looking for the stone pile.

Found it.

Unloading stones.

 Our rodent problem reached critical mass last week. One morning on my usual walk around the yard at least five chipmunks started barking at me. There was one under the side stairs, one in the woodpile near the house, one in the woodpile in the woodland garden, one in the bushes by the front porch, one out near the compost pile, and one inside the woodshed. I like to feel that I’m lord and master of my small domain and to have chipmunks chipping at me like I’m an intruder is very annoying. And they raid the bird feeders and get into the seed bags in the woodshed and into the cellar and inside the walls of the house. They’ve damaged things stored in boxes in closets upstairs and wrecked Christmas decorations stored in the woodshed. We’ve borrowed Kurt’s live trap and baited it with peanut butter and sunflower seeds. So far, in just five days, we’ve caught eight of the little pests and relocated them to distant parts of the county. Eight down, but still more to go.

One of the eight chipmunks we've caught so far.

Chipmunks are not our only rodent pest. This is a big year for voles. The garden is full of them. It seems like everywhere I go in the garden, they scurry away. They are destructive little fiends. They have already nipped the tops off of all my balloon flowers and sunflowers and gnawed at some of my gladiolus and dahlia bulbs (I know, gladioli actually have corms and dahlias have tubers, but I’m not that fussy about using the correct terms). Voles can bear ten or more litters of five to ten young per year and they are sexually mature at one month old, so I know we’re fighting a losing battle, but we fight on. Our live trap isn’t sensitive enough to be tripped by a vole, so we’ve resorted to regular mouse traps baited, again, with peanut butter and sunflower seeds. So far we’ve only caught one. It would be nice if Mother Nature helped out by sending us some foxes, owls, hawks, snakes, or even a stray cat to devour them, but so far we’ve had to fight alone.

We have an even bigger pest problem and they are not rodents. The deer population of Gold seems to have skyrocketed lately. We’ve seen does with fawns in the field above us and in the fields around the beaver pond across the road. Deer have been coming into my orchard and eating the leaves and branches off my fruit trees. Some of the smaller trees have been severely damaged. One afternoon a doe just sauntered through the garden in broad daylight. I had to go out and chase her away, and she went reluctantly. I bought a bag of blood meal and spread it around the orchard. Supposedly it deters deer. Josiah and I have also been peeing in the orchard (only at night) because deer supposedly hate the smell of human urine. In the past I’ve hung bars of soap in the trees to keep them away. I may have to do that too. The animal wars continue.

Our biggest pest.

I had to chase her away.

Today is Fathers Day. My father is a great man. He has always been an example of a loving and dedicated husband and father. I am blessed to have been raised by a good and righteous man. I plan to Skype with him later this evening. I have also been blessed to be the father of some wonderful children. I love being a father. I hope to hear from those wonderful children at some point today.

Today after church we went to our friends, the Moore’s, house for a Fathers Day lunch. They live in a beautiful place up in Greenwood, New York. Julie and our missionaries were there too. We spent a pleasant afternoon with good food and great company.

Fathers Day lunch at the Moore's.

At the Moore's.

Tomorrow is the Summer Solstice, the longest day of the year, the first official day of summer. It is a day of celebration and sadness for me. Now the warm days will come. The days when the gardens change from the lushness and delicate verdure of spring to the serious no-nonsense rampant growth of summer. Springtime is violets, daffodils, and forget-me-nots. Summer is zinnias, marigolds, and sunflowers. I love summer, but to me it seems to be the shortest of the four seasons. Its very first day is the longest day of the year, but from that point on the days begin to immediately grow shorter. I find myself already mourning its passing even as it begins.

On the front edge of summer.