Marsh walk

Grow Great Garlic - part 2

by Kathy Galantine
The garlic bulbs will begin to ripen in early summer. This is the time to discontinue watering them (a little rain won't hurt) in order to retard the stem and the leaf growth, and to let the bulbs finish maturing. Pinch off any flowers that form on the garlic plants. Harvest the bulbs when about 25 percent of the leaves on the garlic plant have turned yellow.

Hang them up or lay them out in the shade or indoors where there is good ventilation.
When the garlic bulbs are properly dried and cured, the sheaths surrounding the cloves will be dry and, papery. The sheath protects the cloves, slows their drying process and consequently their loss of flavor. Brush away any dirt that clings to the bulbs and they are ready to be stored in a variety of ways.

If the stems are still pliable, you can braid them to form an attractive hanging garlic braid. Another way is to trim the roots and use twine to tie the stems together to hang as small bundles.

Or you can cut the stems off, place the garlic bulbs in a net bag and hang it. If you hang your garlic in a cool but not freezing, dry place that is well-ventilated it can last for nine months or longer. In the kitchen, you can store small amounts of garlic for a month-or so in specially designed garlic pots that have holes in them. Never store fresh, unpeeled garlic in plastic bags in the refrigerator. It will rot.

Garlic is rich in sulfur, which contributes to its pungent flavor and also causes it to stink when it rots. To preserve garlic for up to three months, peel the cloves and place them in a jar of olive oil in the refrigerator. For longer storage, peel then thinly slice each clove. Dry the slices in a food dryer or on a metal tray in the sun. After they're completely dry, they can be pulverized in the blender to make garlic powder.

Grow Great Garlic - part 1

This posting was written in 1997 by my friend who died last year. She was a fabulous gardener, the best cook ever, an excellent writer, and a wonderful friend. When I met her when we were 19 and 20, I noticed how she effortlessly and skillfully moved from one task to the next in her kitchen to make delicious meals that she urged me to share whenever I came over. She had learned to cook and care for everyone from her dear Portuguese grandmother. I want to honor her generous spirit and friendship by sharing this informative and down-to-earth piece. - Michelle
Grow Great Garlic
By Kathy Galantine
Purchase your garlic bulbs at a gardening center or at your local grocery store. A half pound of garlic will plant a 100-foot row. Choose large garlic bulbs with firm cloves. Don't plant any of the small cloves. Small cloves beget small-cloved bulbs of garlic.

Plant your garlic in garden soil to which you have added compost or other organic material. Our Central Oregon moon dust won't produce those lovely large cloves of garlic without a little help. Plant each garlic clove root-side down, 1-1 ½ inches deep and two inches apart. Water them well, and then water them whenever the bed dries out.

The garlic cloves that you have planted in the early fall will quickly send up shoots similar to green onions. These edible shoots are milder in flavor than raw garlic cloves. They go well on baked potatoes or in salads or other late fall recipes.

Keep in mind, however, that cutting the young shoots robs the new cloves that are forming so it would be wise to keep a separate group for your main crop of bulbs. Many organic gardeners believe in the value of garlic as a pest repellent and often plant their "extra" garlic around the perimeter of the vegetable garden as a deterrent against bug invasions.

Canadian Geese Winter Comfortably in Eugene

My dad’s apartment in a retirement residence overlooks the river. He also has a great view of a flock (gaggle?) of Canadian geese that has wintered over in Eugene. The residence is located near a wildlife preserve that is home to all sorts of water fowl and creatures. The geese gather on the lawns around the apartments feeding on the insects and whatever they find in the grass. Residents of the apartments particularly enjoy watching the lives of the geese unfold in their front yards.

Soon goslings will join their parents and waddle after them across the lawn. It’s easy to see the mated pairs even in the crowd. Canada Geese mate for life and the goslings stay with their parents for a year after they are born. This particular flock has had a domestic “nanny” goose who looks after the goslings while their parents feed. The grey goose, nicknamed Martha sticks out among darker, more dramatically marked Canadian geese. Besides Martha, one bird always stands lookout for predators while the others comfortably amble through their meals.

The nutria in a nearby pond coexist peacefully with the geese. Their lush fur drenched, they sit in pairs feeding on vegetation. Nutria were imported from the South in the 1920s to be raised for their fur. When the market for nutria fur didn’t develop, the rodents were set loose in an environment with few predators. They live in marshy areas and are mistaken for beaver until their rat-like tails are visible. They are a bit aggressive so it’s best to give them a wide berth if you see them. -Michelle

Heron on the Roof

Last year I heard a loud, strange bird call and peeked out my back door towards my neighbor’s house. I saw a heron standing on the roof eyeing the fish pond in my neighbors' backyard. Apparently the large bird had been dining regularly on their fish. Since losing the fish, my neighbors put more plants in the pond to give their new fish places to hide from predators. The heron was much larger than the typical flocks of finches, nuthatches, and flickers that frequent our yards and he seemed oversized for the roof.

One resource I read indicates that the heron teaches us to be self-reliant and to progress and evolve. Herons follow their own hearts rather than allow themselves to be guided by the crowd.

I got a lot of photos before the tall fellow disappeared over the ridge of the roof and flew off. The next day I saw him on a roof across the street. After that I didn't see him again. I imagine he followed his heart to a neighborhood with better fishing. - Michelle

Connecting with nature in bits and pieces

Recently, I've become more adept at finding moments to connect and enjoy nature during my day.

• Before sunrise, I climb into the loft above my kitchen and watch daylight break from the large windows that look over my garden and my neighbor's orchard.
  
• On my way to work, I drive past a wildlife refuge and watch a gaggle of geese resting on the seasonal lake that borders the road.


• At work, I face a large window and watch the weather - sun followed by hail followed by rain and then sun again.


• On the way home from work, I drive West and watch large, billowing clouds blowing over the Coast Range into the Willamette Valley.


• At home at night, I close my eyes and listen to the sound of rain blown hard against my roof and windows.

I carry the quietness and calm from these moments with me constantly. - Pat

South Wind

The wind is coming from the south today. How do I know? The planes are coming in very low above my house. When the wind comes from the south, the airport reroutes incoming planes to come from the north so they can land on an alternate runway. Maggie and I are a little rattled by the noise and head out for a walk. When I moved here 17 years ago, the occasional overhead flight path was a shock. After all, jet engines have one of the highest levels of noise in our environment at 140 decibels. Your car has around an 80 decibel level of noise and a typical home has a 50 decibel noise level - without overhead planes. Now I live with it the way I’m sure that people living near railroad tracks live with the trains. Certainly the planes don’t fly over as often as trains follow a track, but I have as much control over where the planes come in as someone would have rearranging rails.

Today Maggie and I make our way through windblown streets as I compose this in my head. Is that another plane coming? No, the wind just kicked up and blew through a tall fir. It pummels the flexible branches like a can can dancer grabs her skirts and shakes them and the air is filled with a rumbling rush of wind. Minutes later a much louder burst of noise and another plane comes over the trees, all but grazing the rooftops.

Working on how to describe the noise is another chance for me to see how keeping a mindful perspective inwardly helps me manage my perceptions of external circumstances. In turn my inner experience is calmer. Years ago my young friend Amelia and I were walking over the highway walkway to meet her mother coming from the transit center on the other side of the freeway. As we neared the overpass and the cars rushed outside our view, three year old Amelia said, “I can hear the ocean!” It reminded me of all the times I held to my ear the conch shell that my dad brought from Miami as I imagined the worlds within a magic shell. The ocean I heard and my feelings about the ocean were all in my mind. - Michelle

Sometimes a book comes along just when it’s needed

For the last four years, I've tried growing a fig tree. And, for the last three years my fig tree grew not an inch. Last year, I moved it to the upper garden, thinking it wanted a more uptown address. And, while it then sprouted a few leaves, these same leaves disappeared overnight.

Ruling out slugs (they don't climb trees do they?) and rabbits (for the same reason), I was left with the local deer. I knew no fence could enclose my garden without a major withdrawal from my savings account; but luckily, my daughter gave me what is now one of my favorite gardening books: Deerproofing Your Yard & Garden, by Rhonda Massingham Hart.

Ms. Hart knows her deer.

I used her suggestion to hang Irish Spring soap (yes, she really named the brand) on a small stake near the tree. And, nary a deer darkened that spot of my garden afterwards. By the end of last summer, my fig tree had grown 16 inches higher and several stems wider. Of course, will those lovely figs that should start appearing this summer speak with an Irish lilt? And, will I use them in the bath rather than enjoy them for dessert? -Pat

Best Solution for a Barking Dog

Today while I was working in my office I heard my neighbor’s dog barking. Duka is about 14 years old and deaf. When the barking persisted, I put down my work and went outside to the fence. My neighbors and I put a gate between our backyards when we replaced our fence in 2005. It was a good idea. We can go back and forth without having to go around to our front doors. Something about the gate has cemented a good neighborly friendship. It says, “come on over if you want.” This is the best part of suburban living. As the world grows difficult, simple community offers a respite to all of us.

In this case, my neighbors Dawn and Jodee were at work and the dogs were outside catching some sun. Unfortunately the weather had turned quickly and Duka wasn’t entirely happy to be outside. She also knows I’m a sucker for golden retrievers. When I opened the gate Duka wagged happily at me for a minute, then came through as though my yard is just another part of her yard. I went inside thinking that she would just go back to her own yard when she had finished her rounds of my yard.

A few minutes later Duka barked at my back door. Part of her ease about commanding me to open the door lies in her recent experience spending a couple of nights with me while her people were out of town. I was tickled that she wanted to visit and opened the door so she could make herself at home. The friendly dog wandered through the kitchen, checked Maggie’s food dish, sniffed my cat’s raised eating area, and settled in the living room for a cozy afternoon nap.

One Potato, Two Potato, Three Potato, Four

Counting off by chanting "one potato, two potato, three potato, four" is a favorite way for children to choose team members for their games. It's also symbolic of how I choose veggies to plant in my garden once the weather warms up. I have my favorites, but it's a crapshoot selecting ones that will actually perform.

Veggies must first come up rather than rot in the damp soil of an Oregon Spring. And after they emerge, they must somehow avoid becoming a tasty meal for the many local deer that stop off at my garden as part of their favorite lunchtime break.

This year, I'd like to grow potatoes. I love to eat them - baked, mashed, fried, roasted, in salads. In fact, I'll eat a potato almost any way except raw. But I've never succeeded growing the little buggers!

An email popped up in my inbox last week recommending I buy potato starts now for springtime planting. Springtime? Do I try again? Will an early start help? I will try again and report on my success or lack of success over the summer.

This lowly but lovely veggie has quite a history. What follows are some obscure facts about potatoes you may not know. *

• In the 15th century, potatoes were banned by the then current Pope, who called these starchy appendages "apples of love" and the "root of man's licentious and depraved moral behavior."
• A century later, potatoes were thought to cause leprosy and burned by "order of the crown" to protect citizens from "their base addiction and craving."
• Native to America, potatoes were eaten by the Incas as early as 3000 BC.
• The potato is a member - though a distant relative - of the deadly nightshade family.
• The potato we eat is neither a fruit nor a root of the potato plant; rather it's a portion of the underground stem.
• Potatoes are not fattening by themselves. It's what we add - butter, cream, mayonnaise - that packs on the pounds.

* Credit for this information goes to my favorite high calorie cookbook writer, Bert Greene, who wrote on potatoes in Greene on Greens. -Pat

Libellula pulchella dropped by for a visit

This twelve-spotted skimmer showed up in my yard a couple of years ago. One June day I was taking a break and noticed it just outside my back door. They usually hang out near ponds and lakes so this dragonfly must have wandered over the fence from my next door neighbors' small fish pond. In the heat of the day it might not have found a lot of small flying insects to eat near the pond.

An ancient species, dragonflies have captured human imagination throughout history. I'm looking forward to seeing more insects in my yard as the weather gets warmer. Maybe more members of the Odonata family will drop by.

Spring Rituals Include a Trip to Little Crater Lake in Oregon

We all have Spring rituals – things we do to encourage and celebrate the advent of Spring. I work with someone who has been wearing warm weather clothes for a couple of weeks now—short sleeve shirts and lightweight sweaters. She knows it's not Spring, but this is her way off saying "Enough of this cold weather, snow and sleet."

One of my Spring rituals is to plan outdoor day trips and hikes around Oregon. First on my list is always a trip to Little Crater Lake on Mt. Hood's east side, timed for when the wild irises are blooming. Driving to the Little Crater Lake campground is an easy, two-hour jaunt from Portland. Once at the camp ground, getting to this lake-that-is-really-a-pond is a short, easy hike for people with children, for the elderly, and for those of us who enjoy a saunter with time to pause and look at spectacular views of Mt. Hood, marshland, and flowers. Be sure to bring your camera. - Pat

Michelle's visit to the Cascade Raptor Center

Recently I checked out the Cascade Raptor Center in Eugene, Oregon. (http://www.eraptors.org/) Why do I get teary when I see beautiful animals – wild or domestic? All of the birds at the center are injured or human habituated to the point of not being able to make it in the wild. Some birds are rehabilitated and returned to the wild; others live their lives out at the center and are used to educate people about raptors. As I walk around the outdoor cages I feel stillness. I don’t want to speak above a low tone and feel an urge to communicate my intense care to the birds, some of whom are naturally nocturnal and have been wakened by my presence. One of the owls even yawned in my face while I tried to take a photo through the cage wires.

The following quote frames how I feel or how I want to feel about animals (and people) better than I can express. It’s a beautiful contemplation on the hidden strength of compassion that might only be possible through some form of spiritual practice and awareness. Definitely a work in progress.

Usually, our concept of compassion or love refers to the feeling of closeness we have with our friends and loved ones. Sometimes compassion also carries a sense of pity. This is wrong. Any love or compassion which entails looking down on the other is not genuine compassion. To be genuine, compassion must be based on respect for the other, and on the realization that others have the right to be happy and overcome suffering, just as much as you. On this basis, since you can see that others are suffering, you develop a genuine sense of concern for them. - HH the 14th Dalai Lama

Hailstorm!

My dog Maggie and I went for a walk yesterday in our suburban neighborhood. The sky was threatening and dark from the west, but sunny and warmish to the east. We headed east. It felt like spring until we decided that the dark cloud coming our way was probably going to get us wet if we didn’t change course. Maggie was nervous. She probably felt the barometric pressure changing. Though she’s deaf and somewhat immune now, she’s spent a good part of her 12 ½ years terrified of thunder storms. She knows the storm signs.

On the way home we started hearing a group of crows. I’ve always liked the corvids. They’re so intelligent. One sentry crow was at the top of a fir tree. The rest were digging around a lawn for edible treasure. When Maggie and I walked past, they took off.

We made it home before the cloud reached us. Awhile later I heard a staccato attack on the roof. Hail! It’s rare here. I looked outside and saw big pieces of ice bouncing off my deck and lawn. I took my camera out and got some close-ups of hailstones shaped like teeth!

Soon the cloud passed and the "teeth" melted.

Pat on why the real country can be a shock

When we moved to the three plus acres we live on now, my views of the country were wildly romantic. These same views are now seasoned with a healthy dose of reality. Not a bad outcome, but one that reminds me frequently of how naive I was. This weekend provided another opportunity for that valuable learning.

Michelle stopped by so that we could walk the trails that crisscross the 10 acres of heavily forested land my next door neighbor Norma owns. It's a beautiful walk with 100-year-old firs, ferns, mushrooms, and, in the spring and summer, wildflowers. My fantasy, of course, was that everything would be as perfect as our walks have been in the past.

Instead, this weekend we started down the trail listening to the sounds of a semiautomatic rifle. I know - because I've asked - that another close neighbor sometimes takes advantage of his free time on the weekend to kill the gophers that overpopulate his orchard. And, that he aims for the floor of the orchard and not my neighbor's or my land.

This reassurance didn't help much though as we winced our way down the trail. And, yes, I wish we had taken umbrellas.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

We are two women who find sustenance in the woods, meadows, mountains and water of the Pacific Northwest. We will share our experiences, thoughts, readings, and meanderings here.