Lucky

I stopped by the house yesterday to pick up our mail and drop off the compost filling my freezer (yes, we have compost in the freezer. Doesn't everyone?). It had been a cloudy drizzly day, but when I pulled up the sky was blue and the late afternoon sun cast a faintly glimmery glow over our property. A slight scent of wood smoke drifted over. Lovely.

There is still a lot to do inside the house, despite a move-in date of under six weeks. The kitchen consists of unfinished cabinet carcasses. Cardboard and plastic hide the floors. The bathtubs sit lonely in the empty bathrooms. There are no lights, no heat, no water, no power of any sort. A fine film of wood dust coats the windows.

Yet.

The house is so peaceful. I imagine future moments when I will recapture this peace: mornings, post-kid-school rush. Late afternoons, pre-school-bus and kid chaos. Weekends when everyone else sleeps in. I am looking forward to years of these moments.

When I catch a moment like this - when the house and place where we soon will live casts its spell - I wonder what I've done to deserve this luck. Do others feel this way? I read the news. There are earthquakes in Haiti. A centerfold model who thinks waterboarding is ok and cap and trade is not is taking over Ted Kennedy's seat. In some parts of the world, women are being murdered -- "honor killings" -- for the simple act of going online. Little girls are being sold to the highest bidder, the lucky ones to be married, the unlucky into a life of prostitution. It's rape in either case, in my book. Families here, closer to home, have lost jobs, homes, dreams. It's a disconnect I can't resolve.

So I savor the moment. And am thankful. And vow to not be part of the silent majority (at least I'm hopeful there is a silent majority) that stands by while the angry, discontented, hate-filled minority out-act, out-maneuver, and out-vote us all.

Post script: the photo at the top. Doesn't go with this post Which is ok, because this post didn't go where I thought it would. I thought I was posting about how the myriad details (countertops, sinks, light fixtures, light switches, faucets) are consuming my time but how really, they don't matter. Oh well. I do like this picture of our little office in the woods, wearing what Bella termed it's "snow hat". I couldn't resist. One last little reminder of our very white Christmas.

Garden dreams, at last

It's finally time. It's the longest cold snap in WNC in decades (of course), following the wettest year in decades. The kids had late start for school all week, and no school at all yesterday. We're bundling up like we live in Antarctica. Whatever. It's time to plan the garden. And plan I am. I've got graph paper, ruler, pencils, measurements, lists of vegetables, pages of seeds, and hundreds of downloads about stuff like crop rotation, companion planting, raised beds, no-dig, double-dig, diggity-dog. My head is exploding in theoretical garden knowledge.

So here's my garden plan (click on it to see it larger). Given the garden's place of prominence next to the house it needs some structure on a year-round basis. The double-chevron design is a nod to the "v" theme in our house -- reflecting our designer/builder's intrigue in our double-dutch, double-v last names. I think it's just a little more interesting than a plain square, and it sort of satisfies Dexter's request for a maze.

Instead of a plain fence, I plan on using posts with wires to hold dwarf espaliered apple and pear trees along the east and possibly west sides and blackberries on the north. Blueberry bushes will go in front of the fence to the south. Arbors will mark the entrances front and back.

The back "squares" are for the kids. Two short tunnels will lead off the main path. These will be planted with peas and beans and will lead to tall tepees in the center of each bed, planted with (hopefully) vigorous viners like mini-pumpkins, small gourds for bird-house building, and maybe even some edible squash. Tall sunflowers and corn will screen the tepees, and we'll leave space for some jack-o-lantern pumpkins along one side. These should be fun beds.

The "double-chevron" beds will host my rotating crop plans. The center is for perennials - artichokes, asparagus, and rhubarb for sure, and maybe some fennel. Parsley and basil go in as companions. Each of the four rotational beds will be lined with marigolds or other flowers to add color and ward off pests. I've tried to incorporate companion planting within each bed, and hopefully have the rotation in a proper order. The little "v"s on the side will host nasturiums or strawberries, depending on what ends up in the front.

The front section will be divided into smaller squares. I think this will make it easier to plant, since they can be designed for different seasons, and will give me a spot to try simple covers to extend the growing season. The kids each get to claim a section here if they want, so I am waiting to finalize these plans. Other ideas include salad greens, tomatoes, strawberries, more herbs and some flowers.

I went back to my April post on garden dreams. Here are the kids' lists from last April: Dexter wanted a maze and tunnels, square bushes (nixed) and azaleas, raspberries, blackberries, strawberries, blueberries, cherries, pears, rhubarb, corn, pumpkins, and sweet potatoes. Bella wanted flowers. And artichokes, carrots, corn, tomatoes, all the fruit Dexter wanted except rhubarb and plus apples, and mint. We've already got a hillside of raspberries, so with the exception of cherries and azaleas, I think I've covered everything! We'll see how it all goes.

The year end

Home, finally. After many hours of winter driving and frigid, blustery, snow-stormy weather, today I enjoyed a long outdoor run. Never mind that the day was still gray, or that the snow was still melting nearly 2 weeks after falling. Yes, the weather has broken all the rules this year. Snow that overstays its welcome was at the top of my "no way" list when considering places to live. But at least today, I could finally run. In just two layers. And with my face uncovered to better breathe in the fresh air. Ah.

Since this was a longish solitary run, I had time to think about the year's end. One year ago, we spent New Year's Eve in a cabin just around the corner from where we are now building. Back in Pasadena, I made a list titled "Move to Asheville". I made the list to combat the paralysis that set in when I thought about moving lock, stock, and barrel across the country, to a town where we knew no one. One by one, we checked off items on the list. And here we are.

So, though I'm not generally a New Year's resolution type, I find value in reflecting on the year and thinking about what lies ahead. In looking back, I am reminded that one of our top reasons for moving was a latent desire to put down roots. Taking stock, I would say we're firmly grounded, but not really rooted. So perhaps a new list is in order.

Here goes. My list for 2010 -- in no particular order. Since I've shared it, I feel accountable. We'll see how I do.

1. At the top is my need to give more. I started my professional life in a very direct, hands-on, non-profit "do-gooder" way. I moved on I guess, and need to move back. So I resolve to choose 2 causes - one local and one global -- to which I will make a measurable commitment. While cash is always good, I need to do something more. If money is the contribution - something else must go with it.
2. Next is a continued commitment to living lightly. We will be more sustainable. Some of this will be automatic and easy. Our house will be very "green". And we'll start a great big garden, which should produce some of what we consume. But we can do more and consume less.
3. On a personal note -- I've been running now for years. But I think the number of races I've entered is about 5. In order, one marathon (yes, I started backwards), one 10K, one half-marathon, and two trail races. So this year, I will run at least 6 races - exceeding my life-time limit.
4. Following the above, I'm running at least 10 miles at one time in one direction (up!) on the Shut In trail. I'm obsessed with this trail and it's 18-mile race with it's secret selection participant selection process. I'm either running the race, or running enough of the trail to cure my obsession.
5. I will continue to go against my natural personality and aggressively work to make new friends. And I'm hoping that by this time next year, we will have friends here who need us as much as we need them.
6. I'm going to ride that mountain bike. I'd like to say I'll ride Greenslick -- but it may be just a little too much. But soon. Very soon.

I think that's it. If I accomplish these 6 little things, it will be a good year. What will make a good year for you?

Let it snow

Old man winter is just laughing up his sleeve right about now. He thinks this is so funny. Those Californians watched the weather in Asheville for over a year to be sure it would never get too cold, too wet, or too snowy!

So on top of the 10 or 12 EXTRA inches of rain this year, we now are having the biggest snow storm in nearly 4 decades. And I officially do not like snow. Everyone (and I really do mean everyone) said it never really snows here - just an inch or two for the kids, and then it melts away.

Really?

Dexter, upon hearing that this was the biggest storm in years, declared us SO lucky. Kirk, stuck between Charleston and here, didn't agree. I can't decide. Honestly, if this doesn't put you in the mood for Christmas, you're Scrooge. This is just lovely snow. But it would be nice to be able to get out, even just to find a good hill to sled.

Perhaps I'll have to learn how to put those chains on my car after all.

Merry Christmas!

The Christmas Forest

Inspired by the hundreds (thousands perhaps) of adolescent white pines on our property, I proposed that this year, we harvest our own trees. To make up for the gangly or perhaps spindly appearance of our pines, I suggested that each child select a tree, and we would choose a third. We would group them, attractively of course, to provide a little fullness. I envisioned an aesthetically pleasing, homespun yet sophisticated gathering of trees, decorated with charming child-crafted paper ornaments. Something slightly scandanavian in effect -- drawing elegance from simplicity. I believe these trees sprouted, in my mind, from rustic burlap covered bags, adorned with a single ribbon. Not Martha Stewart so much as Dwell.

Ah yes. That vision thing. The vision is all "ahh" but the reality -- well, the reality is more "ha!" Our Christmas Forest is funny. And it won't be gracing a magazine cover any time soon.

It started well. The kids were tired, having been at the property while Kirk and I tackled the Oriental Bittersweet. They were ready to go home. A few drops of rain threatened the whole undertaking. But - what's that? -- a fantastic double rainbow appears -- a timely distraction that gets us back on task.

The tree selection goes quickly. Dexter chooses small, Bella picks a mid-size tree. Hatchet at the handy, Dad and Dexter have the trees down in a jiffy. I pick our tree and after a few moments determining whether it is actually on our side of the property line, it comes down as well. We trundle them off, bundle them atop the car, grab a couple empty buckets and some sand and homeward bound.

All's well. Except of course, a tree that appears small in the forest turns out to be a good 15 feet tall. And while spindly, a good 10 feet around. The trees will not be gracefully clustered. They will not stand straight. And the charming burlap-covered buckets? Well, at least the printing on the white plastic construction buckets is red and green.

Right now, the Forest dominates our living room. Kirk and Bella managed to string some lights up the trunks, and we've enthusiastically decorated the bottom third of the trees. We may finish them before Christmas.

Then again, there is always next year.

Declaring war on the oriental invasion

Nope, you haven't stumbled across a rabid racist or border-closer blog rant. About a month ago, a pair of friendly wood-tromping chaps from the Forest Service came by to check out our property and provide us with a forest management plan. With our 11.69 acres (1.5 in grass), we snuck into this program that offers planning assistance to landowners with at least 10 acres of forest.

Overall the report is good. Our woods were likely grazed once, which fits with the surrounding land. The forest has grown back as a native mix including yellow popular, oak of every color (red and yellow, black and white...), hickory, and white pine. We also have flowering dogwood, American holly, sourwood, hemlock and a few shortleaf pine. The trees range from 40 to 100+ years old and are growing well without major disease or insect damage. We have little woolly bugs eating our few hemlocks, but the forest guys thought we should just leave them alone. I'm not sure on this one, as I've become quite fond of the tiny-pine-coned hemlocks. But I'm not declaring war on the hemlock woollies just yet. I'm choosing my battles and reserving my ranks for another front.

See that pretty little plant up there? Yeah, a real looker. Oriental bittersweet. You would recognize this beauty at the flower shop. With its multi-toned orange berries, it is very popular for fall arrangements and wreaths. But as always, beware the beauty. This vicious deciduous visitor grows rapidly, twirling around its hosts and strangling them.

Our invasion is considered controllable at this point. It's mostly confined to edges around open areas - where past users of our property cleared out their hunting stands. Our options for controlling it basically include pulling it out of the trees and bushes, uprooting where we can and cutting and chemically-treating the stems where we must. And no, there is no non-chemical answer to this one. Even the greeniest greenies have a little Round-Up in their arsenal.

So that's the plan. Think big thick gloves, long pants, proper tromping boots and a coat that wards off thorny spikes. Even properly geared I was picking thorns out of my fingers and "unders" as Bella would say.

At least we can burn it. So we'll combine our battle with a bonfire and perhaps selection of our Charlie Brown Christmas trees. A fitting finish to our thanks-filled weekend.

doggone

I've been suffering from a serious lack of creative energy lately. I attribute it to too many rainy days, an extended soccer season, and missing a certain goofy dog who no longer wakes me with his snoring. So here's what I can do for now. Here are a few favorite memories of our beloved Boz.





And I like this photo of the house. This was a couple weeks ago, when there were still leaves on the trees and the house had only 1 coat of stain. The house looks better now, but the trees are bare.