First Frosty Morning

Friday morning, 35 F at 7:45 a.m.--just before the sun put in an appearance, moving past the barn.

The meadow had a silvery sheen,, but in spite of several nights of frost warnings, thus far no damage. 

Mid-day warmth lured me outdoors with my little camera. 

There are still a few flowers blooming in the containers near the front steps and in the raised beds near the greenhouse.

Most of the plants are well past prime, but I won't clear them away until hard frost has blackened them.

Walk with me around the dooryard and enjoy these last treasures.

The buddleias in the high bed along the greenhouse wall were tagged as 'dwarf' when I bought them several years ago. They have done well in spite of the summer's long drought.

I dead-headed them several times and there are still fragrant panicles.

These are no longer attracting butterflies, only a few tiny moth-like browsers.

 

A ragged cosmos almost over-powered by the butterfly bush.

Cosmos seed this season didn't flourish. This plant has needed propping up all summer.

Nasturtiums, considered almost tropical in nature, sulked through the summer months, then revived to produce a few colorful blooms.

A landscape rose, 'Pink Cupcake.'

Verbena [?]

Signet marigolds, grown from seed.

Pots of pansies.

Lemon monarda, started from seed in the greenhouse.

It has the attributes of a sturdy spreader.

As the blooms go to seed they resemble a tidy pincushion.

Heat and drought prevented a fall flowering of foxglove, but the mature plants have revived with recent rain and there are numerous new seedlings. 

Heirloom clematis 'Candida' didn't produce a fall flowering.

I've done some careful pruning of all the clematis plants, but left a few fluffy seedheads.

Jim has made some repairs to the greenhouse roof, I've tidied the benches and we've moved in the winter 'coops' for the elderly barn cats. 

Our evening walks around the loop of the meadow are taking place earlier; the path of the sun is becoming shallow and it sinks quickly in the southwest. 

'To everything there is a season...'

 

Seasonal

Jim and Matt were away for the day on Thursday, which gave me a good opportunity to drive to the South Fork shops. 

I needed a bit of fabric from The Quilters' Trunk so braved the steeply winding road to that destination first. 

In theory at least, it should be possible to meet and pass another vehicle on those roads without plunging into a ravine or heading for the ditch, but I always fervently pray that I won't have to deal with that challenge. It is a matter of choosing the least tortuous of several 'short cuts' and chugging cautiously around the hairpin bends. I usually take one road in and another on the way back to the main route.

I allowed myself a few minutes to appreciate the new fabrics shelved at the quilt store and to note the sample projects displayed. The store is also a Bernina dealership offering the latest models of sleek machines. A look at the price tags reassures me that I am very content with my 20 year old Elna and my newer Janome Memory Craft! 

Winding down the steep hill past Cat Hollow Farm I found a few useful items at Sunny Valley Salvage, then stopped at Laverne's Produce Market.

I can't resist taking photos at Laverne's although the early spring display of bedding plants and the autumn offerings are the same each year.

If I was to buy a potted 'mum' it wouldn't be one in full bloom.

Many Amish/Mennonite families in S. Fork specialize in growing mums for market. Throughout the summer we can watch the process as we drive by a yard dedicated to mums. The pots are arranged in rows on an expanse of landscape barrier cloth and water lines are laid to each pot. The plants are judiciously snipped and pruned to achieve the full and rounded shape they will display at maturity.

The rough benches which in springtime hold small pots of annual flowers and herbs are now heaped with pumpkins of every possible shape and color.

Most of these are sold as fall decorations. 

I didn't check whether humble 'pie' pumpkins were available, although a shaded table displayed large stripey cushaws. 

A bin of warty gourds.

I hadn't seen this decorative offering before.

The tag reads 'Straw bale and pumpkin combo: $40.

My own seasonal effort involves the apples that Howard brought back from his recent stay in Vermont.

During our years in Kentucky we have tried most of the locally available apples, those brought in from the Carolinas, some raised in Pennsylvania, a few from local orchards.

The names of the varieties are familiar: Cortlands; Winesaps; Red Delicious; MacIntosh. 

Sadly, the tart/sweet flavor and crisp texture of New England apples isn't equaled in those grown farther south.

I hadn't thought of making pies today, having spent much of the day outdoors.

Jim parked himself in front of his TV with a colander full of Cortland apples, a paring knife and a container for peelings, announced that pies were in order.

Pies made for a household of two using standard sized 'pie plates' [ usually 9 inch or larger] aren't consumed quickly enough.

I recently ordered 7 inch glass pie plates from Amazon [where else?] and they are a perfect size for a pie to be eaten while fresh.

Flaky pastry, flavorful apple slices that kept their shape while baking, a sprinkling of brown sugar and cinnamon. 

The pies came out of the oven just before we went out to walk the meadow loop in the quickly fading daylight; one pie has been put away for Howard to retrieve tomorrow; another has been tucked, unbaked, in the freezer .

And one, the first from the oven, has been tested and pronounced nearly perfect!

 

October Walks

I loaded these photos on October 2nd--a week ago--and didn't return to caption or write about the walk.

These were noted on the almost daily trudge around the mowed half mile loop of our property.

There have been changes in only a week.

Wild Ageratum

When we bought this property in the fall of 2018 several years of neglect had allowed underbrush and native plants to crowd in from the wooded edges of the north and south ravines. 

In addition to clumps of blue ageratum, there were banks of jewelweed, shaggy heads of Joy Pye weed, goldenrod, frost asters. 

Seven summers of mowing and bush-hogging have tidied the perimeter edges of the meadow and the area below the house.

There are still wildflowers, weeds, invasive tangles of wild rose and honeysuckle.

Each year the groupings of plants are a bit different.

In late September I noticed a few stalks of deep purple ironweed, one of my favorite fall wildlings. 

I forgot to take my camera on my walks for several days; the rains came on and when I walked that way again the ironweed was long past its brilliance. 

Time and weather don't wait for us.

Snakeroot

A clump of white snakeroot growing in the shade just off the meadow path.

From wikipedia: White snakeroot contains the toxin tremetol; when the plants are consumed by cattle, the meat and milk become contaminated with the toxin. When milk or meat containing the toxin is consumed, the poison is passed on to humans.

During the early 19th century, when large numbers of European Americans from the East, who were unfamiliar with snakeroot, began settling in the plant's habitat of the Midwest and Upper South, many thousands were killed by milk sickness. Notably, milk sickness was possibly the cause of death in 1818 of Nancy Hanks Lincoln, mother of Abraham Lincoln

New England asters aka Michaelmas daisies--a variety grown several years ago from seed purchased from Prairie Moon Nursery. The asters have appeared in several shades of lavender, dusty purple and rose, spreading vigorously. This clump has since been dug up and moved to over-winter in one of the large black tubs. My efforts at wildflower gardening need an overhaul.

Jim mowed the veg garden on September 1st after harvesting what the drought had spared. 

There seemed no point in attempting the usual fall crops after weeks of watering while heat and drought prevailed. 

Showers during the last full week of September prompted the seeds from rotted cucumbers and melons to burst through the soil. Sadly, no growing season left for the plants to flower and set fruit.

We aren't big fans of cherry tomatoes although judging by the prices on a small carton in the supermarkets they are to be considered a gourmet item.

Several plants volunteered at the edge of one of the black bins and J. allowed them to grow. 

They have sprawled and clambered in a tangle of branches, setting hundreds of bite-sized tomatoes.

I eat a few when I walk past the bins, have smashed at least a dozen plump green hornworms discovered chomping their way along the stems. 

It seems that once planted a garden will never be without them.

Heads of dwarf sunflowers were picked clean by goldfinches before the rains came. Jim mowed through the stalks when he cut grass earlier this week.

Early in September I tunked some strangled roots of spearmint from a pot and poked them into the dirt outside the greenhouse door, spared a bit of water to settle them in. 

Surprisingly, there is fresh growth and the stirring up of the soil encouraged catnip to spring up.

 A healthy clump of catnip by the barn door.

I must remember to cut and dry some for the winter entertainment of our house cats.

Clematis Jackmanii has made an effort at fall bloom.

Dr. Ruppel on the opposite side of the trellis has put forth fresh leaf growth but only a few late blossoms.

The time of year has arrived when blooming plants, wild or cultivated, are cherished as days grow shorter and the nights take on autumn chill.