Bubbles

This 4th of July, while waiting for darkness to fall, and the fireworks to begin, try your hand at making giant bubbles. On the North Forty, giant bubble making has been a 4th of July tradition for years. The bubble solution is very easy to make and my favorite recipe is listed below.

You'll also need some bubble makers. Coat hangers work pretty well as giant bubble wands. Simply bend them into your favorite shape. Make sure there are no sharp edges. The best wands, however are made from plastic coated wire. Plastic coated wire can be found at a hardware store.

After making the bubble solution, find a large pan with sides that are not too tall. Simply dip the bubble wand into the solution, slowly lift it out, and move the wand gently through the air to form the bubble. A slight jerk of your hand will release the bubble from the wand. Then watch as the bubble takes flight, tossing and turning in the air, with its fabulous array of colors..

The best bubbles are made when it is humid and cloudy. When one part of the yard gets slippery with bubble mixture, move to another section to avoid falls. If possible, allow the bubble solution to sit overnight before using it. And, if lots of tiny bubbles form in the solution, scoop them out. That's just about all you need to know.

Bubble Solution

1 cup Joy dishwashing detergent

10 cups water

1/4 cup glycerin (found in pharmacies, or in the pharmacy section of a big box store)

Gently mix together, and if possible, let sit undisturbed overnight.

Happy Fourth of July! Enjoy!

First Tomato

I am eating, as I type, my first homegrown tomato of the year. It's actually not from my garden. My tomatoes are sitting in the garden stubbornly refusing to turn red. The tomato I am enjoying is from my mom's tiny patch, or from my brother's garden. I don't really know whose tomato I am enjoying, but I surely am. When I arrived home this evening, a little bag of three tomatoes was wrapped around the handle to my side door. Isn't is remarkable to have family who will share their first tomatoes of the season with you?

But, back to the tomato. It's so juicy, sweet and absolutely bursting with flavor. It was still faintly warm when I sliced into it. The fruit was almost round, not too big, and perfectly tomato red. I chopped it into uneven chunks in my eagerness to eat it. A little dab of cottage cheese, some cucumber slices (from my garden), a dash of salt and freshly ground pepper, and I'm savoring the perfect summer meal.

If you've not had your first homegrown tomato, I hope you will soon. It's such a wonderful treat.

The Bathroom, Continued

Work continues right along on Stuart's bathroom renovation, shown at left. Tonight Stuart and I tiled the back wall of the shower enclosure. We used 6 x 6 white porcelain tiles. The job, overall, was not difficult, but it was messy, until we got the hang of the thin set. By night's end, we were feeling pretty good about the skills we acquired this evening. Neither of us had ever touched a tile or trowel before this evening.

We've decided the internet, while a source of much good information, has a lot of conflicting information for do-it-yourselfers. If you use the internet for home improvement, be sure to read more than one site. And, if in doubt, seek out help of people who have experience in the work you are interesting in pursuing.

Note the rain showerhead in place in the bathroom already. Stuart scored that fixture at the Great Outdoors for a really Great Price. He is so proud of it.

I am proud of his persistence in this project. When he tore into the bathroom, he has admitted he had no idea how much work it would take to restore it. But he is deriving a great deal of satisfaction from the endeavor. For my part, I thought it way cool to be standing side by side in the bathtub with my grown son affixing tiles to the shower enclosure in his new home. The easy exchange between us, once we settled into the job, and the cooperation between us - well, that's the stuff of dreams.

Oh Deer!

This WAS the edge of my daylily bed just a few days ago. Today, the deer, which have a regular path across the North Forty, decimated this corner of the garden. They also helped themselves to green bean and sweet potato leaves. On this, the first day of summer, I am sad. The deer are wearing me out. Their appetites and numbers grow each year. I spray regularly, alternately using a pepper based spray and Plantskydd. Both are effective, but only for so long, given the monsoon season southern Ohio is enjoying this year. My husband has suggested an electric fence. I've seen some very inconspicuous ones, but I don't know how I feel about turning my beloved yard into an electrified compound. I could plant deer resistant plants, but I don't much like most of them. Hopefully, I've bought a couple of days worth of respite from their gnawing.

Of weddings, Virginia, and boxwood

I just returned from a wedding in Blacksburg, Virginia earlier today, so I've been away from my keyboard for a couple of days.

My very dear friend's son was married on the Virginia Tech campus Saturday, where he and his bride met and went to school. The ceremony was thoughtful, with the priest sharing the bride and groom's separate reflections on marriage, written as part of a pre-cana assignment. Gerber daisies in several shades of pink were carried by the bridesmaids and decorated a simple four tier scrolled white cake. Good food, good music, catching up with old friends and dancing made for a memorable time.

The Virginia countryside, as always, is just the best. As we drove toward Blacksburg on Route 460, after leaving the interstate, the New River sparkled on our right and one big emerald hill after another opened itself up to us. A rain overnight washed away yesterday's haze, and this morning, the fluffy white clouds danced in a bright blue sky all the while holding tight to the mountaintops.

Since I was away from home during the weekend, absolutely nothing was accomplished in the garden, which, with all the rain, is sprouting weeds faster than I can pluck them. So, I was determined to do some work this afternoon, in spite of the 90+ degree heat.

The little sprouts pictured above are seedling boxwoods I started from cuttings last summer. It was really easy to do. I took soft cuttings from boxwoods around my yard and removed the two-thirds of the lower leaves. The wet cuttings were dipped in rooting hormone, then inserted them into plastic trays filled with potting mix. I made little holes in the mix with a pencil before inserting the cuttings, so the rooting hormone would not be wiped off when the cuttings were put in the tray. The trays were dampened thoroughly and put in a plastic bag in a shady part of the garden. After several weeks, the cuttings rooted and I transferred them to individual mix-filled peat pots. They managed to survive the winter. Early this spring, I put them on the wall around the garden where they could soak up the sunshine. But, they've begun to dry out very quickly. They're looking a little yellowish, so I think they've exhausted the nutrients in the soil. I planted 40 of the hardiest in the garden after adding compost late this evening. There are another 40 or so left to go. I hope they will thrive in their new home.

What am I going to do with 80 boxwoods? Well, I've got some ideas, but I'll save those to share with you later.

Projects

This evening I am tired. I worked, with my son, Stuart, hanging greenboard on the ceiling of the new shower enclosure in the bathroom of his home. He's purchased a lovely old cottage with Tudor characteristics, big on character, short on amenities. The bathroom, formerly cloaked in light blue/aqua metal tile with dark burgundy accents, is no more. The linoleum, destroyed and covered by wicked blue carpet, is gone. The sixties faux wood vanity with flecked formica top, way too large for the space (the bathroom door hit it every time it was opened), was dismantled and tossed out the window. The fabulous old tub is staying, but nothing more. Much work remains to be accomplished, but each step he takes toward his renovation goal is reason for celebration. So, celebrate we did, with family, cold beer and good food after an evening's work.

I've been keeping my eye on another renovation project I will share with you in the days ahead. A young couple, with whom I am acquainted, has embarked on painting their rambling frame home, embellished with great trimwork. I've been watching their progress on the project, and will share photos with you as soon as I ask them if I may share their work with the world, or at least my portion of the world. The house was painted a sort of creamish/yellow with rusty orange accents. I have seen green on part of the house, but don't know what other colors they plan to use in conjunction with it. I'll keep you posted and hopefully, have some pictures of their work soon.

Lightning Bugs, Mama and Crickets

This evening, we sat on the back porch, in the heavy still air, to listen to the end of day sounds. Our outdoor cat, Mama, happily romped around the yard. As day gave way to dusk, the lightning bugs began to treat us to their fluorescent green light show. The legions of robins, who make their beds in the oak trees surrounding our house, chattered busily as they do each evening before falling silent, just as darkness arrives. Suddenly, Mama began to leap quite high into the air, at the, I'm sure, very startled lightning bugs. Over and over, she pranced and jumped at the tiny bursts of light. It was quite an amusing sight. Finally, she snagged one of the poor creatures, and buried her head in the grass to enjoy her catch. Very shortly afterward, she came racing to the back porch in search of her water bowl. She drank heartily. I'm wondering if the lightning bugs, which made my hands smell terribly when I caught them as a child, taste as bad as they smell. After drinking, she stretched herself out on the cool concrete and fell fast asleep. For the first time this year, the crickets began to wail.

Summer has arrived.

The Butterfly Garden

This afternoon, I took the flowers, pictured at right, to the butterfly garden I am working to recreate at the preschool where I used to work, part of Shawnee State University. A 16 x 24 foot space has been set aside for the tiny new garden. These plants joined others planted a couple of weeks ago which are thriving, given the plentiful rainfall we have had in the last several weeks. When I arrived, a small bright yellow butterfly and a bumble bee were flitting about the garden.

The butterfly friendly plants pictured include salvia, bright yellow milkweed, gaillardia, lavender and three colors of pinwheel zinnias, a bushy mildew resistant type of zinnia. Other plants and flowers already in the garden include pink buddleia, daylilies, monarda, rudbeckia, marigolds, caryopteris, coneflowers, and other varieties of zinnia. In the midwest, all of these flowers and shrubs are good choices for a butterfly garden.

The garden is a work in progress. A child sized arched bridge, built by my mom and dad, a dry creek bed, and a butterfly house have already been placed in the garden. Pathways will be added next. When it is complete, I'll post some pictures.

What's in a Name?

As I sit here, ready to compose my maiden post, I'm giving serious thought to the blog name I have chosen. For me, the name was a natural, because it is one we have used to describe the land around our home for years. However, for those who may have interest in reading this blog, the name I've chosen may seem a little strange, conjuring up images of rogue adventures on the vast prairie. I've learned that, under the Homestead Act of 1862, settlers were permitted to buy 160 acres of unoccupied land for $1.25 per acre, after having lived on the land for 6 months. The acres were laid out in four parcels of 40 acres each. "North Forty" is a reference to the northernmost 40 acres of land granted to those homesteaders.

The North Forty of which I write is actually the side yard of our home that lies, fittingly, just to the north of the house. When we bought our home almost 25 years ago we discovered a lot line just feet away from our new residence. As we did not want to be hemmed in by another house, we plunged further into debt to buy the adjoining lot. Hence, our North Forty was born.

The first order of business was to plant spindly pin oak trees around the perimeter of the house and North Forty, an act for which I am very grateful every day. Our property lies hidden away beneath the now towering oak trees which offer protection from the summer sun, a sense of enclosure for our space, enchanting red and golden fall color, and much brown material for the compost pile.

The rock-strewn-clay-soiled North Forty has undergone a massive evolution over the years. Buckets full of rocks have been hauled off the property, while truckloads of topsoil and compost have been shoveled into it. Trees, shrubs, flowers, and vegetables have been planted and replanted. Patios and walkways have been built and rebuilt.

The expanse has seen toddlers scamper across it on their way to the Eagle's Nest, a wooden play structure, long since dismantled. Young boys played baseball and built snow forts there. High school golfers perfected their short game, leaving only a few divots to show for it, plus one broken dining room window in a neighbor's house. Friends gathered for giant bubble-blowing contests on the Fourthf of July. My husband and I illegally burn leaves in the garden each fall, just for the almost forgotten smell of it.

The North Forty, represents, for me, the entirety of this gracious place I call home. Join me in this celebration of home and my never-ending search for inspiration as I continue to improve upon it. I'm hopeful you will make discoveries that will brighten your homes and lives.

Welcome, come in, make yourself at home, and enjoy The North Forty Chronicles.