LuceStellare

New Moon in March

The daylight hours begin to stretch out now. The air is trying to warm here in central Massachusetts. The weather brings cold, frosty nights with the occasional snow shower. This past Sunday afternoon gave us a wild snow squall for about a half hour, followed by sunshine and blue skies. Perhaps a snowbow appeared?

In the garden, the sorrel and motherwort are greening up. The old peach has grey buds and the blush of sap is moving through the branches. The tree is ten years old and growing well. Woodpeckers and nuthatch stroll up and around the bark looking for insects as they begin to emerge from dormancy.

This year in the garden will be active in planting of native shrubs, trees and perennial flowers. The earlier posts show a progression starting last October with site preparation in two locations. The shed was renovated over the winter so a third area has emerged. Posts on. this project are planned in the weeks ahead.

The forsythia patch is now roots and stumps. Once they are removed, posts will mark out where the plants will be dug in. An order went into to Coldstream Farm for root stock with an arrival date based on the season, probably in May. The soil here is rich from years of leaf decomposition and tends to stay moist. The section faces east and benefits from sun until about two o’clock in the afternoon. The tree line blocks the western side from direct sunlight. Marsh marigold has returned abundantly to this area so I look forward to the further spread of this native plant. Jewel weed tends to be prevalent here as well, although it is not drought tolerant. Our arch nemesis bittersweet continues to experience removal; however, it persists in trying to strangle another tree if I dare let my eyes wander away from it.

Some flower seeds that require a cold stretch hadn’t been prepared in any way until I viewed an online garden lecture with John Root. He spoke briefly on immersing seeds in wet vermiculite or sand, placing the mix in a plastic bag and storing in the back of the refrigerator for at least one month. So! Sunday, this happened with two larger seed purchases from BetterBee and Prairie Moon Nursery. These photos show the process is quite easy to do. The seed size dictates the type of medium to use. Large seeds are better in vermiculite. Small seeds are better in sand. The plastic bags also contain tiny seeds from smaller packets pressed into a wet napkin. The seeds need the dark, cold and moisture to start to germinate. They’ll stay in the fridge until the last weekend in April. At that time, I’ll transfer them to a different container and hope they do germinate. The larger mixes are meant to be distributed over the prepared sites outside. I just need the weather to change to consistent warmth at 50º F with sun and rainfall to moisten the soil.

There’s a lot to do outside and it’s great to be on the tail end of winter. Let’s hope he doesn’t bring us a surprise like last year. We had a bully snow storm in early May which wrecked the release of mason bees purchased from Crown Bees. I am reluctant to order again as once bitten, twice shy. I know native bees are in the yard, but it’s fun to bring them in and create habitat for these hard-working garden pollinators.

Winter Sowing in February

February 20, 2021

02/20/21 – Folks fond of numerology may find this sequence of interest. The number 7. However, 02/21/21 will top this date sequence. The number 8.

The winter rolls on. Here in central Massachusetts, February has been quite cold and snow falls to the ground every few days. The earth and all her rooted plants are dormant. Little critters move about. Squirrels and birds hop around searching out seeds for a meal. A morsel of something, a drink of water and a cozy barrier against the winds is all that matters.

The winter sowing continues with a few additions. Yesterday, the peas were placed in the red container. Plant by the Signs poster suggested the 18th and 19th were good days for peas to be planted. It’s at least two months away from planting in the soil. So, if the cold alerts the seed to start the germination cycle. So, if the moisture and warmth from the sun induce the seed to sprout, I’ll have learned something new. The other containers have liatris, swamp milkweed, thyme, columbine and rudbeckia. They sleep under the snow and ice.

This group were put out so long ago now. Buried under the elements. Frozen in their containers. A month, it’s about a month until spring. The song birds did seem to change their tune lately. The watch is on for the red-winged black bird. When they shriek from the river, it will be a good day. Safe flights birds!

A calico cat story

The reputation of calico’s was revealed during a vet visit. “Oh no,” the animal tech whispered as she put the thick gloves on, “one of those.” Until then, I wondered why this young cat seemed so sassy. So, her grumpiness was a trait and something to be wary of. Sweetie Pi had an independently confirmed case of “cat-titude”.

This calico cat came into my life sometime in the spring of 2007. Her coat of white, black and burnt sienna caught the eye in daylight or night. The nickname, “Clementine” came to mind one day as I watched her meander around the laundry room door. Why is she a wanderer, I wondered? Who is her owner?

At that time, I had a house cat named Gigi, a ten-year-old tortoiseshell brought home in 2005 from a local shelter. She’d lost her longtime owner to cancer and been at the shelter for six months. The attendant had to reach under the bed to retrieve her the day I stopped in to just take a look at this kitty. As I held her, she promptly took a bite on my hand. Still, she had something and I was persuaded to take her home that same day. Over the next two years, we’d developed a strong bond of friendship. Ever the believer in letting an animal follow it’s instincts. I encouraged her to roam out onto our 2nd floor balcony to enjoy the outdoors. The scene below revealed a small woodland with water trickling over stones. So many birds lived in the copse, visiting our feeder routinely for seeds and nuts. One evening, I startled a flying squirrel into stillness as he was hanging on the feeder munching on peanuts. Gigi eventually became quite comfortable roaming down the stairs and exploring the quiet woods. Many pleasant moments passed with her sipping stream water and watching skeeter bugs.

Into this idyll, a young calico appeared routinely wandering around. It was puzzling to figure out who the owner was. Given the woodland setting and routine howling from coyotes in the night, it was not wise to leave a house cat out all day and night. The day I saw her leap and catch a bird in flight, I decided she needed a roof over her head. I started to provide food and attention, inviting her to come inside. That spring had been damp with too much rain. Before another soaker could begin, I remember inviting her in and didn’t she curl up in a basket that was much too small for her and doze off for hours.

Gigi tolerated Sweetie. She didn’t feel at all sympathetic to a vagabond cat. But, given by now it was late summer, Sweetie had to move indoors somewhere, else she’d grow wild or worse, lose her life to a predator. I had sorted out who the owner was and asked them if I could take her in. Apparently, she was adopted from a local shelter for the amusement of the man’s son when he had visitation rights. Which meant she was fed and noticed about every other week, otherwise, she was booted outside. When a moving van arrived one day, the owner reluctantly let me take her. He was relocating to the city of Springfield and did seem to genuinely want her to join them. But, Sweetie made her own choice when she ran out the door and couldn’t be found.

Glad to have her, she moved in without doubt. A visit to the vet gave her age to be about 1 ½ years old. An animal communicator relayed a memory of being taken by a man to a shelter. He left her there and she was still waiting for him to return. She’d had about five homes by the time I arrived on the scene. She was permitted to roam outside, but when the sun set and supper was served, indoors she must stay.

I remember how she took to sleeping on a futon chair and hissed at me when I would approach her. Ticks seemed to love her and were often embedded in her face and neck. To keep her still, I had to sort of kneel over her and trap here between my legs to twist the bugs out. Somehow she earned the nickname Peanut. Why? I don’t recall. It wasn’t until the veterinary visit when the techs whispered about the calico attitude that I realized she was a bit anxious without reason. I thought it might be her transient early life. She easily showed whatever emotional state she was in and hissy and pissy was one of them. Gigi, being a tortoiseshell, is a calico, however, she displayed a cool standoffishness most of the time. Apparently, her expression was considered a bit mean by some folks. The attitude was more aloof. Gigi meowed and cooed a bit. Sweetie yelled and screamed a lot. Sometimes neighbors could be heard to tsk at the sound of her meow.

We got along. Gigi would rarely sleep on the bed with me. Sweetie perfected the art of lying on my hip all night long. If I turned over slowly, she would adjust her place and resettle in.

It was when I bought my house that life improved for us all. No more noisy neighbors. But, the move coincided with my mother’s health deteriorating to the point she could no longer keep her housecat. Suddenly, I inherited a large gray male tabby cat who needed quite a lot of attention. We managed, I remember moving day required three cat carriers. I left them in the basement in the carriers while the furniture was moved in. Once all was settled, they were allowed out to start roaming around.

Sweetie enjoyed the garden. All the cats learned to use the pet door in the walk out basement. They had a big yard to explore, and trees to sharpen their claws on. We got along and enjoyed our little home. Eventually, Poncho died and a few years later, I lost Gigi at 19 years old. Sweetie had what she really wanted, Mom and the house to herself. I remember thinking we could grow old together, she was about nine and would be my last house cat. We had a few years together. It was early January 2017 when I came home to find she had died. She was lying quietly on her favorite chair but did not react when I came in. Something felt wrong. I thought I felt a heartbeat. But, she was big and limp. I did take her to the vet’s and had to take in the awful news. How could she be gone? The vet said it could have been an aneurism or heart attack. She was gone.

Soon will be the fourth anniversary of her crossing the rainbow bridge. What an impression she has left. How much she is still missed today. Since then, two different house cats have come along and we live happily together. Sweetie would have hated them and put up such a snit. I remember feeding a stray cat on the doorsteps and seeing her make such an ugly face. How is it a cat with such a beautiful coat could be almost hysterical at times over the smallest discomfort?

SO, be warned, if you’ve taken in a calico kitten or cat, it’s not you. They are born with cattitude and are super proud of it!

RIP Sweetie Pi