My Kind of Shopping

 

We have been missing our former neighbors, the Titus and Lillian Beachy family; missed not only for the produce market and discount food store, but for themselves as individuals.

When the local Beachy congregation found it necessary to divide, this family was one of several who 'drew lots' that required relocating. [This is beyond my understanding.]

New ownership of the local venue didn't work out and we've had updates as to the Beachy's plans for a store in their new location.

We had no idea of the scope of their fresh start!

The new location is nearly an hour away, no popping in for a bag of sugar or a brick of cheese to finish a recipe.

The new store opened last week and we had word of that yesterday. 

We notified G. and M. that we were headed there and they decided to make the trip also--a shorter back road distance from their home.

The new venue, named 'The Village Cache' was a surprise both in scale, layout and stock.

We were among the earliest customers of the day--the smiles of greeting were wonderful to see.

We spent several hours--and a considerable bit of money--shopping and familiarizing ourselves with the new store.

Deli counter where custom sandwiches are ordered and served.

The head of one aisle with the case for bulk meats and cheeses in the background.

I appreciate the many hours dedicated to weighing, measuring, packaging and labeling bulk spices and baking supplies, all arranged on labeled shelves.

The front view of the store [Gina's photo] that is Gina and neighbor T. standing in front.

[photo credit, Gina]

A view into the beautifully arranged commercial kitchen. This area is off-limits to customers, but since we were early arrivals Lillian invited me in for a tour.

At their old venue all the weighing and packaging of bulk goods had to be done in the farmhouse kitchen for reasons of cleanliness. 

Lillian and her daughters are delighted with the comparative ease of accomplishing this in the airy space with polished counters and fine lighting. 

As the business grows, bread and other baked goods will be for sale daily.

[photo credit, Gina]

We were ordering sandwiches to go--J. usually responds well to the command 'smile'--I prefer to duck photo ops.

The Beachys have had limited time to devote to a personal veg garden this year, so J. picked a dozen or more of his fresh cucumbers to present to them. In turn, we were each given a free soft ice cream!

I encourage local thrift-minded shoppers to made the trip to The Village Cache.

Those bakers who make bread and other goodies will be pleased with the large selection of flours, grains and various pantry staples.

Flour can be purchased by the 50# sack [my choice] or in lesser amounts.

There are gluten-free options.

We have always kept a well-stocked pantry. It has made sense for us considering the fluctuations of income that have been part of J. being self-employed.

Yesterday's hefty purchases made the rearrangement of our pantry a priority--a task over which I'd been procrastinating!

Our freezer is full, pantry shelves are stocked, the garden is producing more than we can consume. 

We are eating well!

Lillian asked that I post an image of the notices on the front door.

Several attempts with camera and phone didn't yield a photo without glare, but you can get the idea.

Thimble-Kitten is Now A Cat!

Thimble-kitten arrived in our lives on August 16, 2024; rescued from the parking lot of a local convenience store by our son, she was nearly starved, dirty, infested with fleas and lice. 

Howard gave her the first of several baths, provided a month's worth of kitten food.

By the time we got her to a vet appointment four days later, Thimble, though still thin had  found her place in our home and had begun to assert her considerable personality.

The vet judged that Thimble was between 8 and 10 weeks old, placing her birth during the month of June.

During these past weeks I've been telling her she is no longer a 'kitten' but a 'cat!'

Thimble is the naughtiest, most imaginative feline we've met in our decades of sharing our home with cats. 

She carries her toys [a collection of green milk bottle caps] around like a puppy, bounces them down the stairs, waits for me to retrieve them from under shelves, from behind the piano, where ever they have landed. If we forget to pick up the lids and stow them in a drawer at bedtime, as soon as lights go out the 'toys' are located and clattered about the house.

Thimble is a rummager, an investigator, an acrobat, a too willing helper in every task.

The other cats do not enjoy her companionship; she chases, pounces, stalks. Rosie is her particular focus of torment and runs squalling while Thimble fixes her with a beady eye before launching herself in Rosie's direction. 

Thimble's midnight antics often mean that she has to be sequestered in the sunroom for the remainder of the night. 

And yet, particularly when she has created an uproar, sent objects flying from countertop or desk, splashed in the water bowl, there's that little whiskery face, those big eyes gazing at me; and so I scoop her up, let her clamber to my shoulder and purr in my ear. I tell her its a good thing that I love her!

First bath.

Anything to be noticed!

A moment of repose.

Any container must be tried on for size--the bucket of newspapers saved for fire starters.

Thimble never forgets that Howard rescued her, gave her a chance at life. 

She makes it plain they have a bond.

Fearless!

Why shouldn't I make music?

The face of innocence. 

A wastebasket full of fabric scraps, emptied on the floor.

This basket is the best fit.

A cushioned colander.

A box--for me!

Thimble enjoys quilts.

Enjoying the cat tower. 

A friend of Howard wanted to rehome a cat condo/tower. It is a cumbersome thing, the posts wound with thin rope which Thimble has mostly unwound. I didn't feel we needed it, but it provides endless exercise and amusement for this kitten turned cat. 

She is a performer, a show-off, an entertainer.

We may not have needed a kitten, but I can't now imagine life without Thimble!

 

Garden Notes

I was outside by 8:30 to see how yesterday's transplants were faring. The nasturtiums in the right-hand corner were growing in a large pot on the back porch; nasturtiums don't appreciate being moved from where they are seeded, however I think with a little coddling these may survive. The thyme set in along the left edge spent the winter in pots lodged by the greenhouse; they came originally from the plant/produce auction and were passed along by son-in-law Matt. I had a large clump of thyme [provenance unknown at this point] that was stuffed in a planter, root-bound. I was quite ruthless with this, pulling it apart into several divisions. Heavy spring rains have yellowed plants that were sitting about in tight quarters; I think that having room to spread and grow will see them shortly reviving to a healthier green.

Hyssop which has been in a pot, a clump of dianthus hoicked out of the older raised bed, basket flowers started from seed this spring and more than ready for transplanting.

The Flying Pig was an anniversary gift from friends almost a dozen years ago. She is now standing watch over a dwarf nandina which Jim helped me relocate. The shrub was set in the rather disappointing back garden effort, hidden by a militant proliferation of monarda and lemon balm. 

J. noticed me heaving dirt about and took over. 

I am always impressed by the ability of a male to wield a shovel or garden fork with an efficiency that I can't manage.

This area outside the greenhouse door has been a 'catch-all' spot for self-seeding catnip, various mints escaped from pots, the achillea seedlings that I rescued from the turf surrounding the bed by the front steps. If my plans come to pass, the achillea will be moved to the strip that is meant to be worked up where the sunflowers are now growing. That being so, I will allow the various mints to run rampant along the wall.

 Achillea has a tendency to flop, but I've never seen a dwarf variety. 

Pale coneflower started from seed during the spring of the wildflower experiment. 

Two hours of moderate garden work, coming in at 10:30--shirt soaked and clinging unpleasantly.

I changed from the skin out; brewed a jug of lemonade to extend the daily jug of iced tea. A nearly noon meal concocted when J. returned from an errand; cats and their litter boxes tended. 

It is overcast now. There are so many outside tasks that want done: cutting away the rain-damaged leaves from the clematis vines, pruning the roses now that bloom is past and time for pesty bugs to appear. Weeding--always more weeding!

I will likely make garden rounds again in the evening--these lengthy twilight hours moving toward the solstice are lovely for lingering outside.

For now, I think I'll move downstairs to my long-neglected sewing. 

 

The Raised Garden Bed Project

 

I'm not sure if Jim began work on the raised bed because he was tired of hearing me clamour for one--or if he suddenly decided it was a valid idea.

I let him know that I was researching online for the kind that are shipped in pieces to be assembled. I got out a yardstick to approximate the sizes offered and was debating whether the largest available would accommodate the plants I have in mind.

Jim rather off-handedly announced that he could construct something better from materials on hand.

The sides are 16 ft long insulated vinyl-clad panels left from partitioning the barn to make the heated/cooled workshop area. The interior width is slightly over 3 ft. 

 

J. decided that the best and most economical way to fill the bed was to place baled hay in the bottom. Last Tuesday [27 May] we drove in the car to the S. Fork area to make inquiries and found that the local Amish Feed Store had baled hay for sale. Back with the truck to collect it, returning just before a light evening rain.

Raised bed in place, planting bins and greenhouse beyond to the left.

On the right is my double row of sunflowers. 

My plan--which may have to be mulled for awhile--is to place a rustic fence just beyond the sunflowers, and when they are done blooming, that strip can be tilled and used to set in some of the many seedlings of foxglove, lemon monarda and such which are growing in greenhouse pots.

I expect I shouldn't make too much noise about this phase until later.

Yesterday [Monday] after a consultation with son-in-law M. we headed into town to a local rather upscale 'seed and feed' that sells topsoil, mulch, and compost by the 'scoop' load.

As we neared town our grandson D. pulled onto the road behind us, just leaving his apartment. At the stop light--J. in the right hand turning lane, D. in the left--D rolled down his window and shouted, 'Mexican Restaurant!'

Who could refuse such an invitation?

I had been texting daughter G. regarding plants; it was a surprise to find her waiting on the sidewalk in front of the restaurant, joined in a few minutes by M.

After lunch we were urged to drive out to see their latest gardening accomplishments. 

I have borrowed a photo; their gardens are far more organized than mine will ever be.

Worthy of a feature in a glossy gardening magazine!

We had a tour of the side gardens G. has been creating, and the display of vintage items used as planters near the front steps.

These detours of several hours made for a delightfully unexpected outing before going on to haul home the load of soil.

J. 'double dug' the garden dirt underneath the raised bed frame, placed the bales of hay and shoveled the garden dirt on top; the second layer was the soil mix from the farm store layered in place early this morning.

The final top layer is bagged planting mix from my favorite South Fork nursery, Homestead Gardens.

I have clambered into the truck and ridden along on these forays to collect what was needed. 

It is companionable, and such small outings especially around the back roads of the S. Fork community, give us renewed appreciation for this place where we have chosen to live out our retirement.

It is nearly lunch time when breakfast happens these days. 

After shoveling dirt [Jim] watering greenhouse plants and spraying blight deterrent on the tomato plants in the garden [Me] I made Belgian waffles topped with butter, maple syrup, fruit sauce and whipped cream with a side of turkey sausage links.

Must keep up our energy!

End of May

We have no use for the hay crop that grows in our upper meadow so it is harvested several times each summer by one of the Beachy Amish families in the neighborhood.

The frequent rain throughout May has been discouraging for local farmers hoping for a break in the dark wet days.

I was at my desk reading late on Saturday afternoon when I heard the sound of a tractor moving around the field. The Beachy farmers don't work on Sunday whatever storms may threaten. We watched the cloudy skies through Sunday and Monday, the threat of more rain ominous. 

The scent of new mown hay was sweet in the heavy air.

Monday evening was coming on when the tractors rolled in to bale and collect the hay.

The yield was nine bales--the heaviest cutting in our six summers here.

By dark the bales had been loaded and trundled away.

First nasturtium of the season blooming in a pot outside the greenhouse.

The different shades of red are my favorites but I welcome nasturtiums in any color.

Two male hummingbirds arrived on time during the second week of April. We knew that the females had followed them, but sightings were few.

Closing in the porch meant that the feeders had to be repositioned. I wondered if seeing their reflections in the window glass had upset the birds.

During the past ten days activity at the feeders has increased. Today a feeding frenzy was almost continuous. I counted five birds hovering at one time.

Thimble-kitten is enthralled by the tiny birds swooping and fluttering just beyond her reach.

We had drama this morning when I raised the window and then returned to the kitchen to fetch a refilled feeder. A hummer flew in, then beat frantically against the glass rather than diving back out. 

Thimble was quick to notice.

I scooped her up and thrust her into the adjoining sunroom, shutting the door in her whiskery little face.

The bird stayed just out of reach at the top of the window frame; Seemingly it couldn't fly downward and then out.

I fetched a soft dishtowel from the kitchen and after several attempts was able to enfold the bird and toss it out the window, where its companions immediately swooped at it as though scolding. 

Walking yesterday to the mailbox I set up a pair of kildeers who screeched, flew around me, landed in the verge of the lane, rose to swirl about ahead of me.

Coming back I was surprised to note that an egg had been deposited in the same small stony hollow where the first eggs hatched on May 17.

If this is a second family I hope the chicks fare better than the earlier babies. 

Too much rain today for outdoor work, so I spent time in the kitchen.

Four loaves of anadama bread, a lovely quiche filled with spinach, bits of turkey bacon, onion and chopped tomato with a topping of shredded cheddar and fresh parsley.

Beets cooked, peeled and sliced; deviled eggs, the last of the strawberries hulled. Baked potatoes for supper with extra to cut up and brown in butter for another meal.

We walked the loop of the lower meadow just before dark, Willis-cat lumbering behind.

A night without rain, lighting, thunder and wind would be welcome!

 

Weather and Gardens

Seeds of Lauren's Grape poppy have tagged along in pots and tubs of plants as we've moved through several locations in the county. They are welcome wherever they pop up. Most winters the tiny seedlings emerge during a warm spell in February or March. They were so late this season in appearing that I felt they had been lost. I needn't have fretted! This one was the earliest, starting as a frail plant almost beneath the front porch overhang. I was surprised to see the first delicate bloom on 21st May after a dismal night of rain and thunder.

Poppies are beautiful at every stage of growth.

Seedlings have continued to appear--poking up in various plant pots and tubs, in the gravel just inside the barn door, a few, still small, among the foxgloves in the west wall garden. 

Poppies pushing through the branches of a sprawling sage.

Poppies in the gravel walk-way of the barn.

I will never be without nigella--a reliable self-seeder.

Jim's potatoes are growing sturdily.

Peppers and tomatoes purchased from my favorite nursery in April were potted on and kept in the greenhouse until May 7th.

Tomatoes raised from seed in my  little greenhouse went out this week, with 14 extra passed along to H.

Cukes, melons and butternut squash started in greenhouse set out on May 15th.

Jim has made successive plantings of sweet corn after the first [too early] planting failed to germinate in cold, wet weather.

Today he direct seeded more cukes and squash.

The pole beans are up and will soon need a fence to climb.

The pounding rain and high winds which resulted in horrendous tornado activity in areas an hour or more east of us, did little damage here. The electric was off for 12 hours, fallen branches and twigs had to be gathered up around the perimeter of the property. 

Roses, clematis and foxglove at peak bloom were buffeted and tattered.

Clematis Jackmanii, a late bloomer, still looks good.

Near the lower end of the west meadow a maple much loved of the woodpeckers snapped off, the top crashing through an adjacent tree ; the broken section caught just above the power line and transformer.

Jim hitched onto this and hauled it free with the tractor. The stump has since been cut down, split into usable chunks and tidily piled in the woodshed.

I have been fretting that I need a raised bed 'herb garden'. On Friday Jim became tired of hearing this reiteration and after some discussion--exasperated on his part, insistent on mine--he roared out with tractor and rotovator to turn this strip along-side the one designated for my sunflowers. 

I have been leaving gardening books and magazines open in strategic places--suggestive of what I have in mind. Gina got me interested in purchased raised bed assemblies which I then compared online at amazon.  Jim, facing the inevitable, announced that he could construct raised beds!  

I have no problem visualizing a finished garden such as I covet; I do have issues when it comes to dimensions, spaces, layout.

We will likely have some testy exchanges of opinion as the project goes forward!

However it turns out I'm feeling reassured that the various plants languishing in pots or tucked into unsuitable corners can become an attractive arrangement as well as an area that I can tend without the impossibility of crawling about on my aged knees.

The motley gathering of tubs at the front steps have been mostly arranged with flowers which Matt and Gina purchased at the Amish auctions as well as some that came home with me from two rather hurried greenhouse forays.

[Photos of those are on my phone--and I haven't solved the issues with uploading from that device to the blog.]

 

Cooler than usual May weather is much appreciated; each clear day is a blessing.

We are saddened by the destruction, injuries and loss of lives not far distant from where we live.

Weather impacts all of us, whether we are farmers, gardeners, or among those who must rely on food crops grown by others. 

We sigh with relief when a storm moves off, thunder, wind and rain subsiding; yet there is always the sobering fact that as the turbulence veers away from our own dwelling, the homes of others lie in its terrible path.