Miscellany Of Weeks Past

Spring is in full bloom here in Southern Connecticut, and I've been dividing my time between numerous projects here at the Hawkins house. Unfortunately, that hasn't left much time for worthwhile writing, but I feel long over-due to post something, so here's some photos taken over the past couple of weeks and accompanying commentary. And I'll try to publish a more purposeful and coherent posting or two during the next few days. In the meantime, hope you enjoy the few random snippets here...

This is my garden armillary sundial, which is quite nice. You'll notice, though, that it's gnomon is missing both it's arrow head and tail. About two seasons ago, this sundial took an unfortunate fall from a garden wall, breaking both pieces off. Fixing it is no big deal -- just a matter of cutting two appropriately sized pieces of 1/4" brass rod, threading each end, and screwing it all back together. But it's one of those bothersome small tasks that just doesn't manage to get scheduled. The sundial is going to be the centerpiece of my forthcoming colonial herb garden at the house, so maybe that will provide me enough incentive to finally fix it. Maybe.



Since my location is 41 degrees N. latitude, I used a protractor to angle the gnomon at precisely 41 degrees. The gnomon needs to point true North and align with the earth's axis for the sundial to work properly. Not too imprecise a measurement, eh?



The future site of the hypothetical colonial herb garden. This part of the yard gets nearly constant sun through out the day. The garden will be situated on the opposite side of the path, just this side of the decorative grass, and replacing the patch of crab grass in the foreground. It will be bordered by 4 x 4 cedar posts, and feature two small foot paths through the center, emanating from the sundial:



Close-up of the decorative maiden grass in the side yard, and all the grape hyacinth and lilies that appear in the early spring. This photo was taken a good number of weeks ago. The hyacinth and lilies are actually gone now, and have been replaced by these white perennials that I cannot readily identify. It's an interesting dance that takes place here every springtime. Yet another (small) project of mine is to complete the encirclement of the grassy patch with a large assortment of perennials, so there's always something interesting going on through out the entire spring, summer, and early fall:



The early springtime ritual of planting annuals in hanging baskets is shown in the next few photos. This year, we planted red and yellow marigolds, yellow pansies, and some dark purple flower whose name eludes me at the current moment. I was going for somewhat contrasting colors this year, just for kicks. (Oh yeah, there's a couple of herbs there, too; rosemary and basil):



Hanging baskets in various stages of completion. The mums I had planted last fall survived the winter and are growing like crazing now (all green -- no flower buds for a while yet). So I will have them to re-display in the fall time:



A completed large basket:



Two of the larger baskets deployed on the entry porch. Since this photo was taken, I've also installed two candle lanterns on each of the front posts supporting the roof:



Newly planted herbs and tomatoes, respectively, in wooden containers on, or in the vicinity of, my front porch. These plants are patiently waiting for me to finish digging the potagers and herb garden, of course, and are demonstrating their enthusiasm by growing bigger, and bigger, and bigger, and...



This photo shows stone remnants of an ancient terraced garden that is mostly buried by earth and covered by various growth out behind the house. There are a number of interesting, random plants still thriving out there, including some roses and rasberry bushes, not to mention lots of poison ivy! One of my big summer projects is to resurrect this garden, but there's just so little time. We'll see how far I get. If I can get even the basic garden unearthed and well-defined, I would be satisfied with it for this season:



This buckboard table graces the other end of my mudroom. Can you believe that some one in my neighborhood had left this out curb-side to be taken away with the trash? I was driving by one rainy night in my pickup truck and noticed it's outline in the street light (I know, it sounds like a sad story of hyperbolic abandonment, doesn't it? But it's true!) I stopped, threw it in the back of my truck, and it's been a fine friend and fellow traveler ever since:



Lavendar and chives (container herbs) are flowering right now (I took this photo just yesterday). They are likewise awaiting their move to the big hypothetical herb garden in the side yard, with armillary sundial, cedar borders, and well-defined paths. We'll see...



And what posting of outdoor activities would be complete without some mention of the various animal friends who like to drop by on occasion and try to figure out what manner of weirdness I am currently occupying my time with?

Here, one of the neighborhood cats came visiting out behind the house, and hung out for a while by the old overturned wheel barrow and deteriorating saw-buck:



And here, one of those ubiquitous crows was gingerly walking down the drive way, inspecting things (perhaps keeping an eye out for the cat). I was actually amazed how far he trotted along on foot before finally flying up into the trees. I took this photo from the window of my study, through the old glass -- hence the noticeable blur just in front of the crow. The old stone wall in the background is an ancient remnant of the cow farm that once existed here, up until about fifty years ago.



There are many interesting trees in bloom right now, including dogwood, lilac, red maple, and various pines, plus many other annuals and flowering shrubs. Almost exactly one year ago, I created a posting with photos of many of these blooms. If you're interested in viewing further, you can see that posting by clicking here.

Kale by Numbers

[Gardens, or yards, as the inhabitants called them, were stored with gigantic plants of Kale or Colewort - Scott (Waverly)]

This past winter, I attempted an experiment in wintering kale, in which I covered three plants with a natural mulch, and then let nature take its course. The plants spent a good deal of their time under layers of snow, in sub-freezing temperatures, for this past winter was a rather severe one by coastal Connecticut standards.

One plant didn't survive and I found it rotted in the springtime. Another appeared to have been eaten by something (perhaps those two marauding squirrels who also sought refuge from the cold in my attic?). But the third plant survived just fine. In fact, it looked down-right bright and healthy, for all it had endured. So I removed it from the ground and placed it in a large plastic flower pot. This is how the kale looked exactly two weeks ago:



And this is how it looked today:



Yes, we've had quite a bit of warm, sunny weather the past two weeks, and also quite a few rainy days. In fact, the past three days have seen nothing but rain, and things are just growing like crazy!

But I have never seen kale looking quite like this ever before . When I purchased this plant last fall, it was more cabbage-like than anything else. But now it has taken on the appearance of a true flowering plant. My guess is that it will flower in another month's time and go to seed. I have read where kale, which are not good hot weather plants, get into a distressed state as soon as the weather warms up, and then produce their seeds.

In any event, I'll be watching this guy closely, and with any luck, I'll have a nice brood of new, young kale to border my front pathway come the fall. Of course, I will do my best to keep this plant alive during the hot summer, even storing it down in the cool basement during the hot weather, if that will keep it from withering.

Here are two more somewhat random photos. Below are various collards that I purchased recently, which are also growing like mad with all the sun and rain. I am in the process of planting a total of three gardens this year -- two potagers, and a colonial herb garden. The collards will, of course, go into one of the potagers, along with various other edible plants that I am likewise growing in containers until ground is broken:



And this is an antique dry-sink in my mudroom, which I use for various planting activities. The dry-sink still has its original copper liner, which is quite an interesting piece of metalwork and also very convenient. In the nursery tray below, I've planted two types of large garden beans, sequoias, and dragon tongue (36 of each):



Naturally, these beans will go into one of the potagers after they've matured in a few weeks. To support the beans, I'm constructing natural tuteurs from some old maple branches that I've collected and am right now peeling and whittling down a little. They should like quite nice once they are in place.

Vintage Percolator

My mom has an old percolator that had belonged to her and my dad. Last Sunday, I went over her house to do some garden and yard work for her, and I cooked her a big Sunday breakfast, brewing dark roast coffee in the percolator. Needless to say, I just couldn't resist taking a few photos of it, and posting them here. It amazes me how so very few people nowadays even know what a percolator is, never mind how one goes about using it to make coffee! In my opinion, nothing tastes better than freshly perked coffee.



For those who are unfamiliar with this simple, but effective, piece of technology, there is a strainer sitting on top of a hollow tube. The tube has a flare at the bottom. Ground coffee is placed in the strainer, and the strainer-tube assembly is lowered into the percolator, which is filled with fresh water. You put the lid on and then place it over a flame on your stove top, and as the water begins to boil, it "perks" up through the tube, is caught by the little glass plug on top, is deflected back down into the strainer, flows through the coffee grinds, and then drains back into the percolator's main body. And after a few minutes of that, you have the best imaginable tasting coffee in the world!



My parents' percolator spent many, many years in the same old pot closet, and has numerous dings in its sides from all the times larger pots and pans had either crashed into it, or it accidentally fell off a shelf and down on to the floor. In the photo below, you can see some of the worst of these dents. You can also see gradations on the side near the handle, that allow you to determine approximately how many cups you're going to brew, by measuring how much water you've put in:



This next photo shows the front of the percolator, and its slightly dented spout:



Few people today use percolators. It's really a shame, in a way, especially given all the emphasis these days on great tasting and exotic coffees. Of course, you can still find suppliers of new percolators online, as well as vintage percolators for sale. But for the serious caffeine lover, there is just no better means of preparing a great tasting cup of coffee!

[And by the way, this posting is dedicated to my fellow caffeine-addict and blogger, TheCaffeinatedLibrarian, who also shares my appreciation of old, vintage percolators! ]

Rock Me Amadeus

Well, I sure hope the Easter Bunny was good to all of you. He certainly did well by me. Apparently, he knows what a fan I am of all things Enlightenment, especially the music of Herr Wolfgang. Not to mention that I also enjoy a good piece of chocolate just as much as the next person. So he rewarded me for my numerous forgiven misdeeds by supplying me with an excellent bar of feine milchschokolade, packaged as "Salzburger Mozarttafel" by Mirabell of Austria. As you can see in the photo, this chocolate bar balances perfectly against a large book, as long as at least the upper one-third of the bar is removed, so as to lower the center of gravity (I am not really sure where that chocolate actually went).

And as an added bonus, once I am done sharing my Easter present with most of my friends, I will have a very nice portrait of Amadeus to place on my future piano or harpsichord (assuming, of course, that I ever get my parlor squared-away).

Hope you all had a wonderful holiday and weekend! And now it's back to the grind...ugh....!!

Workbench Top Update

I recently removed much of the remaining wood from the maple log that will ultimately form the bench top slab for the Roubo-style workbench that I am building for my shop. There are still quite a few high spots that I need to take down, but the bulk of the wood has been removed from this side. Only that Knot from Hell remained right in the center of the log. You can plainly see it in the photo below:



A view of the knot (and a few of the remaining high areas) from the other side:



This evening, I removed much of the knot by slicing away at some of the wood surrounding it, and then chopping the knot up with my splitting axe, being careful not to completely pop the knot out -- I don't want to be left with a gaping hole right below the line. Rather, I just want to get this bulge down before hewing this side of the log:



Here is the other view of the log, with the knot and bulge largely (though not completely) cut-down:



My next step will be to insert a few screws into the far side of the log to ensure that the existing splits don't open any wider -- I don't want a large portion of one side of the log to break off, although, if it did, I have a contingency plan for mitigating that. As things stand, this is going to end up being a "composite" top consisting most likely of two slabs (one large, one small), keyed together to provide an approximately rectangular bench-top. But I want to keep this main slab whole, if possible.

Once the screws are in place to stabilize the log (actually, I think it's officially a "cant" at this point, not a log anymore), I'll turn it over and score the other side (the bottom of the workbench slab). That should be a bit easier, as there's less material to remove from the bottom than there had been on top.

Crocuses in Connecticut

Spring has definitely sprung here in Connecticut. I discovered several crocuses (croci?) in my yard the other day. They are identical in coloration to a crocus photographed by my blogging friend Shelley in Michigan, and posted here.

It was cold and raining all day yesterday and they remained closed (interesting, how they manage to protect themselves):



However, today was very sunny, and the two crocuses were opened:



The crocuses are right on the edge of what had once been a terraced garden in my back yard, that has long been covered over with earth and growth. This spring, I will be excavating and revitalizing this garden. There is also a nice apple tree growing right in the center that I'll prune and get into good shape, so we'll have plenty of edible apples come Fall.

Timbering, Part V -- Some Wood Removal

This past evening, I completed cutting scores through the length of the log and then began doing some bulk removal of wood. Starting at the top end of the log, I worked my way down toward the butt-end, removing the wood left between the notches. In the crotch area (I can't write that without chuckling a little), the depth of the wood was fairly shallow relative to the line, and I had cut broad, shallow notches there. I removed most of this wood first, taking swings closely along the grain with my felling axe. All of this wood cleared fairly easily, leaving the promise of some very interesting grain patterns behind, including what looks like some spalting. This is exactly what I was hoping for:



However, I avoided removing too much wood right near the end of the stem on the left side of the log, being somewhat concerned about the large split emanating from the pith. That split has been there since the log was cut, but I don't want to disturb it too much with axe impacts, out of fear of making the split wider, or even breaking a large portion of the stem off. So instead, I'll remove the rest of this wood using a small hatchet, or even a chisel. I may eventually put a stainless steel screw through the stem to hold it together. Or, perhaps, if I really wanted to get fancy, a butterfly key made from a section of black walnut I've been holding onto for just such an occasion, inserted into the end of the stem and made flush. Any suggestions or other ideas?



The mid-section of the log was also very problematic, as it consisted of a large bulge and the vestigial knot of a limb that had been removed from the tree a long time ago. The wood in this section was very deep, as you can see from the photo. So I decided to make this part of the log a candidate for splitting, according to my ever evolving plan. I cut two deep, narrow notches on each side of the knot (the highest clump of wood in the photo is the one holding the knot):



And then I went to get ... my splitting maul!



Ah, yes, my splitting maul easily strikes fear into the heart(wood)s of logs that otherwise eat chainsaws for breakfast. It made fast work of the first clump just behind the one containing the knot, in merely three strikes:



But the knot seemed not the least bit shaken, and clearly was mocking me as I cleared away shattered wood from the first clump:



Well, my splitting maul decimated nearly all of the clump containing the knot, as well as the next clump right below it. But admittedly, the maul bounced off the knot one or two times. That knot was determined not to be disturbed:



At this point, I was tired and decided to call it quits for the evening. I cleared away some of the wood on either side of the knot using my felling axe, but the core of the knot is still there. An effort to return to some other day:



Here's a view of the surface of the log just above the knot. I still need to shave some wood down to the layout line on this side, and there also is a slight bulge in the very center of this area that I need to take down a bit, as well:



The other side was generally right down to the line. You can see the black crayon line on the side of the log, just below the cut, in the foreground of the photo. Also note the interesting demarcation between the lighter layer of sapwood, and the darker heart wood in the center of the log:



Counting crows....My usual spectators also came by to watch at one point. Can you spot all the crows in this tree? There also was one on the ground at the time, but I couldn't get all of them into the photo: