Garlic: C&F

Growing up in Minnesota I was raised on Finnish/Scandinavian cuisine. Certainly a root cause for adolescent rebellion. Mom's spices and seasonings consisted of salt, black pepper, onions and maybe chili powder. Dill and mustard seed were only for pickles. Oh yes and cardamom for pulla bread. According to history the vikings invaded the British Isles and replaced the Roman (Italian) cooking style with their own as an eternal punishment for the natives.

In early adulthood I was lured to the dark side by oregano, thyme, tarragon, rosemary. And mostly that addictive garlic. I can't name a dish that wouldn't be enhanced by the addition of a clove or two of this glorious bulb. Well, maybe quiche. But then real men don't eat quiche anyway.

Through the years I've attempted growing some of my own garlic with less than satisfactory results. A few years ago my daughter and I took in an area garlic festival. A great preview of Heaven in my book. Chatting it up with some local growers I learned a few of the finer points about cultivating this member of the family Alliaceae. I was doing it all wrong. You plant garlic in the Fall of the year after the first frost, like tulips and other bulbs. The plants grow a bit before freeze-up and then die back. The young roots will continue to develop through the Winter. Garlic is hungry and requires ample fertilizer. I use about 2 pounds of 5-10-10 for my 100 plant bed at planting time. I tried a couple of types of seed from that local grower and settled on a stiff necked variety that seemed best suited for my garden conditions.

Seeing those bright green spearlike leaves appear soon after Spring thaw kind of jump starts my gardening activities each year. Now in mid June it's better than waist high and sending up blossom stalks. Interesting things that form a loop near the top. The blossoms themselves are nothing to look at and the resulting seeds while drawing on plant strength won't produce a desirable crop. So off with their heads! The stalks are quit tender and flavorful making them a delightful ingredient for soups,salads, omelets, etc.

Sometime in late July or August the leaves will turn brown and die back. That's the time to dig up the bulbs and lay them out in the sun for a few days to form that characteristic parchment covering. Then I gently bush off remaining soil and cut off the roots and stems. Since I only grow the stiff necked variety now braiding them for display isn't an option. The largest bulbs are set aside for the next planting. The remainder will spend the Winter in a net onion sack hanging in the breezeway. An inviting potpourri to welcome holiday guests.

I can taste that December pot of spaghetti sauce already.

Gardening Time cont'd

It must have been a busy month. I haven't found time to post for quite awhile. May is always a fun filled month for we gardeners with seeds to start and plants to put in the ground. Of course there is grass to mow about every other day as well.

The tulips and daffodils put on beautiful show again this spring though it's getting time to dig them up and separate them again. During a shopping trip I picked up a batch of seeds at the local Walmart. What a disappointment. I got two viable cucumber plants from the whole package. Nothing recognizable from the two packages of pepper seeds. The Big Boy tomatoes had about 30% germination. Pretty grim for the few seeds you get for that $1.00 per packet. I figure it comes out to about a nickel per seed. The summer and winter squash did very well, however, so all was not lost. I set the green bean seeds to soak earlier this week before the monsoon settled in. They're getting lengthy sprouts on them so I must get them in the ground this weekend. I will definitely rely on the local garden store for my seeds again next year. Running too late to reseed, it was off to the nursery for some replacement seedlings to populate the waiting garden. It's still raining so they're in the garage getting even leggier. Sunshine predicted for tomorrow (Saturday) so I'll be busy again this weekend. Tomatoes, peppers, eggplant, cucumbers and some morning glories for the fence. Oh yes, and the beans. And mow the %$&@ grass.

This morning's batch of Italian bread is about ready for the oven so it's time to spindle this one.

Gardening time

I've enjoyed growing vegetables since I was a young lad. There's nothing like eating peas right off the vine or wiping a carrot clean (?) on your pant leg before enjoying it. Today I bring the produce into the kitchen to be prepared properly. Most of the time. While enjoying those tasty BLT's is still a few months off, it's time to get started. I tilled up the gardens last weekend. I say gardens because our wooded surroundings provide only scattered areas of adequate sun exposure.

The garden where I prefer planting cucumbers and squash was only recently reclaimed from the wild. Weeds and even brush are still more than a minor annoyance. Pulling weeds is not my favorite pass-time during those hot summer days. Especially when they are entangled with the vines. Being a bit on the lazy side I figured there should be a way around this thankless task. So instead of sending the newspapers off to recycle during the winter I stack them in the basement. Now the town collects all the fallen and pruned branches from local residents and chips them up for composting. Locals can haul away compost or raw chips free of charge. Getting the picture?

After tilling and raking the soil I drag out the newspapers and cover the ground two to four layers thick. Overlapping the layers for good coverage. Since this garden is on a slope I start at the top so the lapped layers won't form a watershed. Then I weight down the paper with a sprinkling of wood chips. I doesn't take many to hold things in place. Keep in mind that choosing a calm day for this allows me to keep my language at a PG rating. During frequent rests from this back breaker it's fun to read last year's news.


It's amusing to read how those now forgotten controversies stirred up the populace. Well, at least the reporters got excited about it. Today the color of Michelle's inauguration day gloves doesn't seem all that critical. Whatever happened to the bird flu pandemic? Migrating song birds with a skull and cross bones on their backs never showed up. Oh yes, all those banks crapped the bed and it's not over yet, but I'll read all about it next spring.

Fast forward to mid-summer. A chair in my favorite shady spot and a can of my favorite brew... Vwallah, no weeds! By autumn the newspaper will be pretty well deteriorated. Any leaves that won't fit into my three composting bins will get dumped on top of this garden. Next spring the whole works gets tilled into the soil and it starts all over again. This will be the fourth season using the paper mulch method on this garden and the soil has become unbelievably rich and loose. The earthworm population has increased dramatically. They love those leaves with paper.

Other garden areas for tomatoes and peppers get the shredded junk mail and grass clippings treatment. Maybe I'll return to that a different time. Or not.

Global Warming?

Oops, I guess climate change is the politically correct term these days. Whatever you want to call it the thermometer hit 88 this afternoon. That's a record for this date in our neck of the woods. I know one day doesn't confirm true climate change, but it give us old codgers something to talk about while sitting in the shade nursing an iced tea.

This morning I cranked up the chain saw and cleaned up some dead wood left over from last winter's ice storm and before. It made a nice addition to the wood pile. This fall we'll spend an evening or two by the fire pit while it turns to ashes. A radio turn to some soft music and a companion for a little quiet conversation. You remember conversation. It was that past time we had before tv and the internet. By noon it was getting too hot to attack any more outdoor chores.

So I escaped to the basement. I'm a computer hobbyist and somewhat of a packrat. The accumulation of cast off computers is starting to get out of hand. Next Saturday is hazardous waste disposal day at the town garage. You know, that day when we all load our old televisions, computers, cell phones, microwave ovens, old cans of paint and used motor oil into the back of the car and spend 45 minutes creeping along with a line of neighbors bent on doing their part to save the planet. It's hard to fight the urge to walk up and down the waiting line to see what goodies others might be throwing out. A few things that I might find useful some day. But no, I must focus on the task at hand. Stern orders on the home front to clear out some of that (maybe useful some day) junk. Sigh.

Good bye to a couple of Dell Pentium IIIs and a Digital PII sans hard drives and memory chips of course. Also several dead mother boards and power supplies. I'm still saving a few cases that will accomodate standard ATX or micro ATX mohter boards that can be found frequently at bargain prices. It's always nice too have an extra computer or two in the wings in case one of those that I'm using dies. I use the Debian Linux operating system on most of mine. I only resort to Windows when I don't have a choice. I'll leave further discussion of my passion for Linux for another day.

Now to load up the car.

Times, they are a changin'

Oh yes, things are way different than when I was in knee pants. I missed watching the broadcast of the Miss USA contest the other night. My cardiologist forbids me to watch the swim suit competition so I just skipped the whole thing. I did manage to sneak a peek at some of the news photos though. Nice.

Back in my day beauty contests were different. Besides Bert Parks there was the evening gown event and the talent competition where the young ladies would show their skills at handling a baton or maybe sing a little ditty. The major attraction was the swim suit competition where they could show off their physical attributes and poise while being ogled by a kajillion male eyes. Lastly they were required to answer some inane question like, "How would you like to change the world?" The stock answer being "Feed hungry children in Sudan" or something like that. If she could deliver in fifteen words or more without repeating herself or replacing a comma with "Y' know?" she was home free.

This year was different, however. Miss California, a first place contender, draws a question from judge Perez Hilton. I had to Goggle that name to find out who he/she/it was. Hilton's an openly gay in your face celebrity wannabe internet blogger. No doubt he chose the handle for maximum associative shock value. Anyway Hilton asked Miss CA, 'Vermont recently became the fourth state to legalize same-sex marriage. Do you think every state should follow suit. Why or why not?' What they hell kind of question is that for a freekin' beauty contest? Whoever thought a person with such an overt political and social agenda would be a suitable judge for the pageant anyway?

Well Carrie Prejean, from California answered from her heart, and I think rather diplomatically, considering. She said something like, 'We live in a land where you can choose same-sex marriage or opposite marriage. And you know what, in my country, in my family, I think that I believe that a marriage should be between a man and a woman.
No offense to anybody out there, but that’s how I was raised and that’s how I think it should be - between a man and a woman. Thank you very much.' Watch it for yourself on youtube. Listen to the cheers from the audience.

Now Hilton gets some wonderful self-promoting spin in the media by calling her a 'Dumb bitch' and implying that it cost her first place. What if she had put a lid on her feelings and deferred to the judge's prejudicial position and favored gay marriage? Would the world have afforded her a brighter spotlight? I'm glad we didn't find out. I didn't bother to measure the column inches awarded each in Monday's circus act, but I'm guessing good old fashioned down-to-Earth values lost out again.

I've known a number of gay and lesbian people throughout my life and my heart goes out to those that have suffered at the hands of hardline homophobes. They deserve a better shake than they've had since the door got ripped of the closet, but dammit marriage is a human institution that predates history. It is woven into our society in ways that mean a change like this could result in a much larger unravelling. I think it's high time we stop kowtowing to every minority faction that manages to whip the media into a frenzy and stand our ground. I say three cheers for Ms. Prejean. She's too intelligent to waste her time with such trivial pursuits anyway.

Bert Parks, rest your soul, I miss you.

Time to drop my state assemblyman an email.

Man's best friend

Here's a photo of my helper, confidant and all around good buddy. Odin came into my life back in the Fall of 2000. While on a consulting job in Boise I accompanied a colleague to the local shelter to pick out a surprise pet for her family. Now acquiring a puppy at a time when my life was rather chaotic was the last thing on my mind. One look at that little ball of fluff with a tail curled up over his back bounding away from a freshly deposited puddle and I was a goner. He just melted my heart. Part border collie and part whatever came over the fence last, this little fellow had nearly perfect color and markings.

Now border collies and blue heelers are popular breeds in that part of the country. Bred as working dogs rather than house pets the less fit pups are winnowed out and disposed of in some manner. "Odie" still tends to run for cover at the slightest sound of gunfire or fireworks so I guess that rendered him unfit for a home on the range. Instead a volunteer found him with a dead litter-mate in a bullet riddled cardboard box along the roadside in rural Idaho. Whether that was the truth or a scripted story to play on my emotions doesn't matter. I had found a buddy and a few days later, my job completed, we started a long mid-winter road trek back home to northern Wisconsin. Of course he wasn't quite house broken yet and it was too cold to drive with the windows down so you can imagine what that trip was like. An ice storm in Nebraska added additional excitement to the trip. That gave us an extra day in a motel room to get to know each other better.

Fast forward to the present. Odin and I now live in upstate New York with significant other and her two cats. Working dog that he is, he sees to the exercise regimen of any local squirrel or rabbit that ventures into the yard and frequently attempts herding cats. One day last week we returned to a favorite pastime of grubbing out some brush at the rear of the property. I'll get a root exposed and tell him to go to work. With an impressive show of growling and snarling he'll work at it until he pulls it loose. Then it's time for a break while we play a game of 'stick'.

Odin has been a good dog. Loves the neighborhood kids and never chases cars. Airplanes and low flying Canada geese, however, are another matter, but that's a story for later. Like most dogs he loves going for walks and rides in the car. Front seat of course. Special friends include the mail lady, drive-in bank tellers and toll booth operators bearing milk bones. His favorite tv channel is the Animal Planet, but he also enjoys any cartoon or commercial featuring animals. He's eight and a half now and starting to slow down just a bit. Like me. Hopefully he'll be around for a few more years and I intend to savor our time left together.

Here boy, let's go for a walk.

What conservatism means to me

As I look back I can see that I've led a pretty conservative lifestyle. Born of depression era parents I developed a strong work ethic. One where good ethics were as important as good earnings. I learned to live within my means and pay my debts. I've always driven second hand cars because I felt it more important to stow away a little cash for that inevitable rainy day. And there have been a few of those along the way. I was an avid practitioner of "Reduce, Reuse and Recycle" long before it became trendy. I never wore loud ties or a ponytail. I felt my government owed me protection from criminals, good roads to drive on and successful execution of our nation's wars when needed. Nothing else. That's my definition of conservative.

I was a fan of J.F.K. ("Ask not what your country can do for you..."), but soured on L.B.J. I voted for Nixon because he was Republican, but he brought shame to the party. I was pretty apolitical until Regan came along. He described political conservatism in a way I could understand and identify with. I was proud of my life and my country once again.

Today the Department of Homeland Security released a warning of right wing extremists that may be planning terrorist activity. Here's the link. It describes these extremist as opposed to gun control. I own a shot gun for bird hunting and a small caliber rifle for vermin and I aim to keep them by golly. Right wingers "are stockpiling weapons and ammunition in anticipation of restrictions and bans in some parts of the country." That reminds me to pick up a few more boxes of shells before it becomes any more of a hassle. These extremists are upset about illegal immigration. Non-taxpayers loading up our school classrooms and hospital emergency rooms. Darn straight I'm upset. It seems these right wingers fear or "anticipate a cataclysmic economic collapse of the United States". Hmm. A recent advisory by the state of Missouri told law enforcement to take special note of cars bearing Ron Paul bumper stickers as well as those of other third party candidates or political movements. Didn't mention moveon.org though. I wasn't a Ron Paul supporter though I liked some of his ideas. I think it's strange how the media pretty much sidelined his campaign. We keep our pantry well stocked with food due to the harsh winters around here. Another warning sign.

I might be just a harmless old curmudgeon, but it seems I've turned into a right wing extremist almost over night. Now I'm starting to get nervous. Some citizens are organizing a tax protest "Tea Party" rally in the city tomorrow (April 15). If I go will I be further branded as one of the usual suspects?

It has been said that Americans won't lose their freedoms by a revolution or armed invasion. Instead we will give them up freely one at a time. Looking around I think we're well on our way down that slippery slope already. And I don't like it much.

Damn it I'm going to that rally tomorrow. Maybe DHS will even take my picture for their files. My freedom of speech won't die with a whimper.