Tag: Swiss Chard

  • Snakes, Swiss Chard & Automobiles

    Rattlesnake decoy among the Swiss Chard to deter the White Tail Deer
    Rattlesnake decoy among the Swiss Chard to deter the White Tail Deer

    A week ago today was a day for snakes. Though – sadly, I must add – it was not a day for living snakes…

    Rattlesnakes and White Tail Deer

    Let’s start with the good news. Or at least the benign-if-slightly-amusing news. To set the stage, imagine yourself walking across the still dewy lawn south of the carriage barn. A light morning mist still hangs in the air adding a slightly bluish, fuzzy aspect to the vegetable garden, orchard, and meadows beyond.

    [pullquote]Your eyes would suddenly, inevitably notice a coiled rattlesnake in the middle of the Swiss chard![/pullquote]Approaching the southeast corner of the vegetable garden your eyes would be drawn to the delicious, spicy radicchio growing in the cedar raised bed at the corner. Next your eyes would dart to the bright orange nasturtium sprawling alongside. Perhaps you would bend over and pick a succulent, young leaf to munch on. The flavor drifts somewhere between the subtlest peppercorn and cinnamon stick.

    As you wander along past two varieties of beets interspersed with a fresh crop of French Breakfast Radishes your eyes would suddenly, inevitably notice a coiled rattlesnake in the middle of the Swiss chard!

    But don’t panic. It’s not real. More precisely, it’s not a live rattlesnake. It is a lifelike rubber decoy. Before I explain to you why this rubber rattlesnake is coiled, rattle raised and head drawn up and back with fangs bared, here’s a quick backstory.

    Rattlesnake decoy among the Swiss Chard to deter the White Tail Deer
    Rattlesnake decoy among the Swiss Chard to deter the White Tail Deer

    Duck Doodoo

    Back in May Lake Champlain water levels were low and dropping. But June brought rain, rain, rain. The lake level went up, up, up.

    [pullquote]Doug called to say that two ducks were cuddled up asleep with the rubber rattlesnake…[/pullquote]The shoreline shrank, so the mallards decided that our dock was the perfect place for snoozing, eating, and… evacuating the rather rich byproduct of their rather rich diet. This stinky mess created an undesirable obstacle course for accessing the boat. So we hosed and scrubbed. But within a few hours the situation repeated itself.

    After many weeks of duck waste remediation (DWR) I suffered a small stroke of genius. We needed a decoy predator! I researched and discovered that others had found that a coiled rubber rattlesnake deterred ducks, geese, seagulls, even pelicans. Perfect.

    I placed the order and chuckled my way down to the dock on deployment day. An hour or two later Doug called to say that two ducks were cuddled up asleep with the rubber rattlesnake…

    White Tail Deer Decoy

    What to do with a worthless rubber rattlesnake? A few silly pranks came to mind, but before I could regroup and execute, I discovered that Doug had transferred the rubber rattlesnake to one of the Swiss chard patches in our vegetable garden that the white tail deer have been devouring. Good idea!

    It’s too early to determine for certain whether or not the rattler is going to dissuade the deer, but I’ll update you if there’s any news.

    Corn Snake Roadkill

    In sorrier stories, this unfortunate sight caused me to pause during a recent bike ride.

    Is this unfortunate snake spotted on Willsboro point at the end of July 2015 an anerythristic corn snake?
    Is this unfortunate snake spotted on Willsboro point at the end of July 2015 an anerythristic corn snake?

    I pedaled past this exotic roadkill on a Willsboro Point bike ride, and circled back to try and identify the unfortunate fellow. Aside from the always disturbing sight of roadkill, this snake instantly reminded me of the mystery snake I spied in the rhubarb a few years ago. In fact, I’m almost 100% certain now that is the same species I failed to identify then.

    A quick search online suggests to me that it might be an anerythristic corn snake. Check out the photograph below and decide for yourself.

    An anerythristic corn snake (Source: Wikipedia)
    An anerythristic corn snake (Source: Wikipedia)

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  • Veggie Patch Lullaby

    It’s that time of year again when we put the vegetable garden to sleep.

    I’ve been asked if it isn’t bittersweet ripping out limp, frosted tomato plants and tilling under the rotting stems of zucchini and cantaloupe.

    Leaves are gone and frost is frequent, but Rosslyn's veggie patch is no crying matter.
    The leaves are gone and frost is frequent, but Rosslyn’s veggie patch is no crying matter. Far from it!

    And you know, it really isn’t bittersweet. It’s a celebration of another bountiful summer, eating delicious, fresh produce harvested from a small plot of dirt a short walk from my kitchen. And it’s a celebration of the bounty yet to come. I know that sounds sort of “woo-woo” Pollyanna-ish, but I genuinely mean it. Putting this summer’s garden to bed is actually a way of starting on next summer’s vegetable garden.

    I love composting almost as much as gardening!

    Besides, there’s still so much happening in the garden. Shortly we’ll begin harvesting leeks and that’ll continue through Thanksgiving, maybe even Christmas if the ground doesn’t freeze.

    I've stripped the Brussels sprouts in the hopes of fattening their frost-sweetened treats.
    I’ve stripped the Brussels sprouts in the hopes of fattening their frost-sweetened treats.

    And I’ve just finished knocking most of the foliage off of our Brussels sprouts so they can continue to fill out. I’m about a month late, so it may not have as much effect as it would’ve otherwise. Under the best of circumstances this practice helps fatten up the sprouts.

    The artichokes provide the only bittersweet harmony in my veggie patch lullaby. Out of a dozen plants, only six survived the swampy May and June early season. Plants that thrive in the sandy, dry, relatively temperate Monterey Peninsula struggle in clay soil flooded by rain after rain after rain. And of the six plants that survived, they developed slowly and bore no chokes. Three of the plants are at prime July first condition today! I’ve accepted that we won’t be eating any homegrown artichokes this year, but I’m not giving up hope for next year.

    The Imperial Star artichokes remain healthy, but they failed to produce even a single choke this summer.
    The Imperial Star artichokes remain healthy, but they failed to produce even a single choke this summer.

    Given the decent artichoke crop me managed two summers ago and the outstanding bumper crop last year, I’m going to continue growing artichokes at Rosslyn. In fact, I’m going to undertake a bold experiment.

    Ever since discovering that Imperial Star Artichokes can be grown successfully in our abbreviated norther season, I’ve been tempted to defy conventional wisdom.

    Although artichokes in more forgiving climes can be grown as perennials, severe North Country winters and a short season require transplanting healthy, established juvenile artichokes and accepting that the crop will not endure from season to season.

    It's time to start harvesting the leeks, perfect timing for outside grilling and soup.
    It’s time to start harvesting the leeks, perfect timing for outside grilling and soup.

    Annual artichokes are certainly better than no artichokes, but given our fruitless season I’ve decided to see if I can’t successfully overwinter our plants.

    I plan to cut them back almost to their base once they’ve actually stopped growing and become dormant. And then, before we get any deep frosts or snow, I’ll bury the plants in straw, leaves and organic mulch to try and insulate them over the winter.

    Nothing lost in trying!

    November greens (and purples) that continue to nourish us.
    November greens (and purples) that continue to nourish us.

    And I’ve overlooked the still productive raised bed, still flush with greens. Although some of the spinach has browned off, and most of the kale is gone (some pest really did a number on it late this fall), the beets, beet “purples”, Swiss chard and lettuce continue to feed us.

    So you see, the veggie patch lullaby is a happy, hopeful tune!

    How do you feel when it’s time to put your veggie patch to bed for the winter?