After relentless excavation of this blog’s digital archaeology, Cole, of Lamplight, was able to find/create a pathway for me to write a new post. So, March 12, and spring is here according to the daffodils which are abundantly blooming, the soft rain falling, and the thousand starlings robbing the food from Larry’s well-tended feeders. I know, not until the 20th, but daylight time has been instigated in Oregon, already causing a snafu with my sisters’ weekly phone call. I rest my case.
Then what’s going on? Yesterday, Ian and Jarod of Phoenix Habitats were here for a couple of hours. Jarod is the hydrologist, and he seems very pleased with the degree of sogginess he’s discovered on the property. He’s proposing ways to capture the abundance of water and channel it effectively in the existing streams leading to Muddy Creek. He found channeling tiles well under the surface of the north-east pastures, laid by former owners, with apparently the purpose of drying the land for agricultural use. Humph. These tiles will have to be broken up, and yes, he can do that. Not sure why — we haven’t seen the actual proposal. I mean, are we going to just let the pastures be soggy?
The two men were flying a drone when we came home from errands. “Yeah, up in the sky, 300 feet above you.” Really? Couldn’t see a thing through yesterday’s clouds, but in our later conversations, Ian said he’d send us the photos. The main objective was to gain familiarity with the entire property before launching a plan of restoration.
Ian took some time with me to go over ideas for the area directly around the house. For the space between driveway and orchard, and for the large area under what we call the homestead tree, he sees a meadow land of flowers instead of the simple green grass. Which requires mowing, but does not offer appeal to birds, bees, bugs of all sorts, ditto worms. When I said the words “meadow land” didn’t offer me a distinct visual, he pulled out his phone and showed me what he meant. Hmm. Wonder how that would look, as compared to the other wild spaces just behind these areas? Anyway, yes, I agree that vast areas of simple green grass don’t encourage a beneficial habitat.
Meanwhile, Nick Ginavan, one of Bill Peterson’s guys, was busy unearthing the watering lines linking the new-ish trees in that same space between driveway and orchard. The pipes had not been installed deeply enough, and were subject to piercing with the aerating spikes used by Inavale Landscape, also a Bill Peterson hire. As we all know, I’m a freak about protecting our well’s water production, so burying those lines was a high priority. Anyway, he, Nick, is apparently available to do other chores around the place. One of which would be cleaning out the eyesore of the creek beds crossing the driveway before the Phoenix guys execute their plan to restore and protect those waterways. Hooray!
Here’s what I’m talking about:
Jarod Jebousek of Fish and Wildlife once told me that it takes a trained eye to see beauty in Mother Nature’s landscapes left to her devices. Got it, but Mom N. isn’t responsible for the blackberry vines wrapping the trees, the thistles and tansy, which clutter this scene throughout the year.
Changing the subject: daughter Jenny and her Tom were here this past weekend. It would seem that Jenny is something of a chicken whisperer. She walks out among them, chooses the prettiest one and simply picks it up. Cuddles her. Said chicken doesn’t even flap and squawk for release when she sees that the other three are getting their daily treats. Well. We all have our gifts. “You guys thinking of getting your own chickens?” we ask. How else explain why Jenny wanted to come and help her dad clean the coop. “Not really,” she says. But we won’t be surprised if one day a little flock appears in a backyard of Seattle’s Broadmoor neighborhood.
On Sunday, we played golf. Yes, even me. Even I. How long has it been? Judging by the rat’s nest in the pocket of my clubs, quite a while. It was a little cold, but it was so fun! I didn’t even care that I was so awful. Who cares? Well, let’s be honest. Yes, I did too care, and am determined to take Larry out and get us both playing this spring. So far, our plan to go out and just hit balls has not happened. Yesterday, see above. Today, maybe we’ll go, if it stops raining?
Returning to the subject of the voles of an earlier post: Larry is trying a new scheme to rid our lawn of these creatures. He won’t go so far as to acquire a cat or dog, but there is a “vole repellant” product which is broadcast onto the lawn, watered in, and the smell is unpleasant to the little rodents. In theory, they will turn, leave their web of tunnels and flee to neighboring, uncontaminated, areas. If not, there have been mousetraps lain in the exit holes of their tunnels. As yet, no dead (but not poisoned) bodies have been discovered. We’ll see.
Now the remaining hurdle in this new iteration of Jane’s blog is to see if it will publish when I wish it
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