Composting Along

You may have already seen my post from a number of weeks ago about starting a compost pile with "a little help from a James-y". (That is what he says when he wants to help.  "Mummy, do you need a little help from a James-y?"  In a sing-song voice.  I love it.)  Well, it's still going and I think it is composting for sure, albeit rather slowly.  It is a large pile though, and I think I had been leaving it between turnings a little too long, and watering a little too infrequently.  But I am learning how to compost properly, as a result of this super fun initiative started up by Deanna of Little House in the Suburbs, called a "Compost-Along".  It is a bit like a knit-along, where a bunch of people do the same pattern and check in with each other's progress, but in this case, we're building compost piles and progressing through the decomposition process.  Sounds exciting?  Well, it is to me!

So week by week, we check in to Deanna's blog where she writes up instructions for where we should be in the process and tips to help us along.  I have a feeling I'll have a lot more success doing it this way, and I have a feeling I really need it.  To illustrate, follow me as I work through this week's composting homework.  She shared how to build your compost pile, but mine is already built.  So I went outside to turn it and moisten the material (if needed, I figured that with all that miserable welcome rain that we had over the weekend, it would be drenched):

Heading out to the compost pile, so I bring my trusty kitchen composter to empty, while I am thinking of it.

Ewwwww.  Well, as you can see, we've been eating a lot of fruit. :)

A riveting action shot of me sticking the pitchfork into the pile and attempting to turn it.  Not as easy as it looks.  And how is it possible that the grass clippings are entirely dry?!!

OK, so I am pretty much convinced that plant clippings from the middle of the pile (where it is dark and supposedly warm, if not hot) are still actually photosynthesizing.  What?  I even dug out a few forget-me-nots that had flowers of a quality that I could have given them to somebody!

Wondering if this pile is a little too big.  I wondered about taking a photo with a frame of reference, but I didn't know what to use and didn't want to drag James out of bed.

Attempting to soak the life out of (or into, as it were) this ridiculous Sahara of a compost pile.

I wasn't sure that a gentle shower was as effective as it could be so I decided to bring out the big guns.

Are you a veteran composter?  Can you help me?  Or are you a newbie like me, have already started a pile (or could collect the necessary materials this week) and feeling like joining in, even if a little late?  Composting together is fun!  This is why they invented the internet.  Stay tuned for a fascinating look next week at the microbial action in my backyard.

A Little Work Around the House

I feel so much more settled knowing that we are going to be living in this house for another three years.  For the last two or three, we'd look periodically, and semi-seriously, through the real estate ads in our community and in and around Charlottetown.  We'd decide we really wanted a different house, and we'd be ready to make an offer.  We'd think about what we'd have to get done if we decided on the spur of the moment to put our house up for sale and move elsewhere.  And then the next morning, or the next time we went to see the house, we'd think, "No, that's not for us."  So for someone like me, who likes planning and security, it wasn't really the ideal way to live.  We didn't really invest ourselves and our desires and our personalities in our property because we were never sure how long it was going to be ours.

But now we know that we'll be staying here.  And it is a little squished, sometimes, and a little more space in the bathroom would be nice, and a little more sun in the backyard would mean better growing conditions.  But this home is ours, and we're staying for three more years, and we like it here.  This is the first house that we moved into together shortly after we were married, the home that we brought our two beautiful babies home to, the property that gave me a tough lesson in perennial gardening, the house that is about a seven-minute walk from my parents.

So little by little, over the last few weeks, we've been cultivating our pride in our property and we've been opening our hearts a little to it.  We've been accepting it for what it is and enhancing it in ways that we can manage, that serve our needs right now, and that will make it more attractive.  We've been ruthless in tearing out perennials in favour of native shrubs and (gasp!) more grass (and dandelions, and forget-me-nots, and stitchwort, and whatever else is growing in our lawn).  It was sad to see the poppies and coreopsis and pinks and especially the blanketflower go, but it feels so much better to know that our untended, wild, massive perennial beds will no longer be the shame of the street!  So to show you a few of the touches we've been making to our property as we progress through spring and as we find a few minutes here and there, here are some photos.

Those chives were in a container on my deck last year, and came back thicker than ever.  The oregano was divided from a friend's garden.  (Thanks Pam!)

Lovely Pam also gave me seven strawberry plants.

Here I planted a bunch of yellow bush beans.  The soil looks dark because of the compost I mixed in.

Freshly applied wood chips. :)

I raked up the old mulch that was here when there were shrubs in this bed to make a little path to stand on so I don't compress the soil every time I look at my little plant friends.

Overkill?  Maybe, but I love those happy marigolds (I have since moved them away from the beans, those of you who know that beans don't like marigolds--I didn't know that until later).

Sweet millions tomatoes on our deck.  They aren't looking as happy lately, though, so I hope they're ok.

I want to plant some sort of squash or melon here.  Cucumber? Loofah? Canteloupe?  More pumpkin?  We'll see what hasn't drowned in the seed starting tray left out in the rain. :S

I think everything looks better in the rain, at least when you get up close.

Hello, beautiful.

We bought this five years ago and never bothered with it.  This week, out of the blue, Craig started working on getting it set up for me.  He did a beautiful job and I think I fell just a little more in love with him.

Container-planted Swiss chard.  I love those red veins.

I've been randomly sneaking leaves here and there just to snack on when working in the yard, and I honestly think that this is the best spinach I've ever tasted.

Shared with Homestead Barn Hop #65.

Much-Welcome Rain

For a spring on PEI, it's been amazingly dry and sunny.  That is wonderful for small children, who want to play outside, but we need rain for the garden.  So waking up today to the promised wet weather was a relief, and the falling raindrops were very much welcome.  As seedlings and new grass and trees and perennials (and wildlife too!) soak in a longed-for drink of fresh, cool water, little boys get a bit rambunctious in the house.

So I took mine outside.  In his pyjamas.  To jump in puddles.  We'll get back to gardening when it dries up a little bit, but this morning was a time to play.

Ode To A Clothesline

What a breath of fresh air, literally, now that clothesline season is back in full force.  I know some people let their clothes freeze solid on the line during the winter, and I think that's great--but mine was broken until about a week and a half ago and so I'm just once again starting to take deep breaths of springtime olfactory delight when I fall asleep on line-dried sheets or dry myself with that rough, outdoorsy scratchiness of towels straight in from outside.  I love my clothesline so much that my husband is getting tired of hearing me randomly blurt out "I love being able to use our clothesline again!"  And I felt it had to be expressed here, in words and images.

Five Reasons I Love My Clothesline


1)  The way the clothes smell when you bring them inside.  I think I already covered this, but it has to be included; isn't it everyone's favourite thing about clotheslines?  That smell of fresh air, ruddy cheeks, freshly mown grass, dried leaves, hyacinth perfume, bird song, and puffy cumulus clouds.  An aroma like that just cannot be duplicated anywhere else, other than in freshly washed fabric, blown in the wind and lovingly gathered in a basket.

2) Saving money and electricity.  Once the clothesline is operational again, I don't ever want to use the dryer.  Even with an energy efficient one, it still uses a lot of electricity, which means I subsequently contribute more carbon emissions into our saturated atmosphere and I end up with a higher municipal electric bill (and those puppies are bad enough as it is!).  It isn't any less convenient to do laundry this way, it just might take a little more planning, but as I may have mentioned before, I love to plan.  Just check the weather forecast for the next few days and the night before a nice day, pop a load into the washer before bed.  When you get up, you can put it on the line, then take it off by lunchtime to stick another load on for the afternoon.  Who really needs to do more laundry than that a day, if you remember to do some every nice day that you have?

Note the fleece baby clothes and the absence of emerged leaves in the background--oh! To have a truly warm spring arrive...

3)  Keeping your clothes more organized.  Now, I realize that this may sound at first like I have some sort of a problem, but I swear it works really well.  When I am hanging the wet clothes on the line, I like to pre-sort them into certain categories.  For example, large and small items, pants, shirts, onesies, socks, underwear, etc.  Then I keep each item with its own kind.  When you then come back to pull them in, they are already in a very efficient, handy order.  When you fold them (which is also easier, since the legs of your skinny jeans are not tangled around the sleeves of your favourite henley, and your diaper cover velcro is not firmly attached to a knit acrylic sweater), you can stack them according to where they need to go without losing time sorting them.  Oh Craig, you're looking for your socks?  They're all here.  Need to run a few things down to the kids' room?  Here they are, all in a pre-established pile.  I love it.  (Some people I know, based on other aspects of my life, such as my old work desk that was covered in used tea bags, papers, photos of family, spare socks, and bits of random leaves and other plants that I collected in my wanderings, may have trouble believing me to be this obsessive.  But I swear, I can be quite organized in other areas!)

Here they are: Susannah's onesies (and sleepers in the background) are sorted before they're even dry!

4) The quiet, contemplative time it give a busy schedule.  Now I do not claim to particularly enjoy doing laundry.  Quite the opposite, in fact, I'd much rather wash dishes.  But clotheslines make laundry fun again.  Why?  Yes, it may take longer, but those 10-15 minutes that you spend pinning the clothes on the line and then taking them off to bring inside are 10-15 minutes of peace, fresh air, and opportunity to quietly think without interruption that you really wouldn't have otherwise.  I like putting the clothes on the line when Susannah is napping (9:30-10:30 am, and 2-3 pm) and James is either playing quietly in the yard or asleep.  I listen to the sounds of the neighbourhood: to birds singing and leaves rustling in the breeze and neighbours walking their dogs and taking out the garbage and puttering about in their yards.  I breathe the fresh air and think about what I need to get done that day, or how much I love my family, or about the book that I can't wait to get back to, or about my prayer life, or just about how much I like doing laundry again.  It's a mindless but focused activity that just feels good and gives me a quick breather.  Ahhhhhh.

I think the photo says it all. :)

Not sure I can really express how much I love this picture and the little bum that fits in these covers.

5)  A glimpse into a person's life.  Now I'm not particularly nosy, it's more that I have a keen interest in other people and a vivid imagination, and as a biologist, maybe a stronger than normal appreciation for detailed observations.  But when I see a neighbour's clothes out on the line, I absolutely love that it is an opportunity to peek into his or her life and form a picture in my mind of what that life is like.  Clothes tell a story about the person who wears (or line dries!) them, and some very personal information can be hung out for all to see as it flaps in the breeze.  One glimpse of a clothesline is like the briefest character sketch about the people surrounding you every day, and gives you a chance to get to know each of them a little more deeply than you previously did.  It reminds me of what one of my aunts, who has a heart for things poetic, said a few years ago after the fall time change: "I've made friends with November."  She was referring to the fact that after the clocks go back, you can easily see inside the homes of others when it's dark outside and their lights are on.  You can see them gathered around a kitchen table together as a family, or cleaning the living room, or reading near a cozy fire.  It isn't that you want to know their business, so much, as that you can appreciate the simple beauty of knowing that these people (who you may or may not speak to on a regular basis) are just like you, living just as you do, a few doors down from you.  It makes the world seem smaller, more friendly, more connected in these days of such a busy pace of life.  And I love a good story.

Lamby (and his twin brother) is a very important member of our family.

The Most Basic Compost Pile in History

I'm new to this homesteading stuff, and I don't have a big budget to spend on things like fancy composters.  That doesn't mean that I don't want a nice, free source of compost for our garden though.  So I decided to start my own compost pile.  And it took me about an hour.  That is because I had to first rake up the piles of material that would make it up.  So really, it took more like ten minutes.

I first cleared out an area in the bottom corner of my yard, which is surrounded by shrubs, is the furthest common point from any of the surrounding houses, and is sort of ugly anyhow.  I'm just going to warn you now that I would not be graciously given any photography awards for these photos.  They are pretty blurry, bland, and in general poorly lit.  But they illustrate what I did, so bear with me!

The bare corner in our yard about to be transformed into a marvel of aerobic decomposition.

So I had this awesome idea (and I thought myself quite brilliant) that I would put the sticks at the bottom for three reasons: (1) they would take longer to break down, so I wanted them closer to the ground where my little decomp soldiers are hanging out, (2) they would prop up the compost pile and aerate it from underneath, and (3) they would help with drainage because this is a rather damp corner in the spring.  After checking a few websites online that dealt with an actual pile and not some fancy rotating drum, I came across one that said "lay your twigs down first to help with drainage and aerate the pile".  So I felt quite validated and confident in my compost decision making.

The bottom of the pile.

A wiling young helper carrying sticks never hurts the success of your compost pile, either.

So then I started taking the old leaves and little twigs that accumulated in our yard over the winter (I swear we did a good job raking last year and had loads of bags for fall clean-up!), and putting them on the pile.  Two things that made this easier and faster:  I had done most of the raking on March 22nd when it was 25 degrees (what?!?) and we were thriving in the sun, and I used our brand-new-to-us wheelbarrow that my mother-in-law generously gave me and her wonderful brother drove up to Summerside to deliver (he also brought in our waste cart).

Not quite finished yet, but it was geting late and I didn't know if the camera would work when I finished.

Here is my "finished" compost pile; I now have a very tidy backyard and a wonderful start to composting excitement.

So I am aware that everything that I put in my pile today is "brown" material, and I need to layer it with "green" material.  I just wanted to clean up our yard and get the pile started.  Before I came in, I watered it to dampen the material.

Side note: is anyone else worried about how dry it is this spring?  The clouds of dust coming up as I was raking this stuff were crazy!!

Anyway, as I collect vegetable scraps and whatnot I'll take them out and layer the compost and sprinkle water on it and turn it and cover it to warm it up and love it in general.  Now this is not the most sophisticated compost pile in the world.  It doesn't have walls, it doesn't have a sleek round body with hatch and turn-crank, it isn't even a barebones structure made with pallets.  But for the moment, it will provide habitat and cover in our backyard, it will eventually decompose, and it provides an out-of-the-way place to store our yard waste (and soon to develop chicken poo!), and I'll be able to use it, some day, to feed my lovely veggie plants.

I like it.  Make your own!

This post is shared with Homestead Barn Hop #59 at The Prairie Homestead.

(Avian) Love Is In The Air

The last two days on Prince Edward Island have been completely, abnormally, climate-changingly, delightfully warm.  And both yesterday morning and this morning, as I stepped outside, not only was I amazed by the unseasonably warm weather, my ears were filled with the sound of bird song.  Robins, grackles, chickadees, blue jays, trilling and squeaking and whistling and chirping.  Singing the songs of love.

So as we wait, here on PEI, where we can't plant cold-weather plants until May and everything else must wait until June, James and I started a backyard project of a different kind.  We gathered together some nest-building material for the birds as they embark on a new season of courtship, nest construction, egg laying, and chick raising.

I've seen a few websites and blogs suggesting this idea to backyard birding enthusiasts.  And I'm always looking for things to do with James while Susannah is napping, so I thought this would be a great, quick little project.

Some people build (very cute) nesting material pouches made of wire but I wanted to use something that I already had in the house and wouldn't have to buy supplies for.  So I followed the example of some other websites, such as this one and used an empty mesh onion bag.

You can enhance the leaves and twigs and other nesting materials available outside by putting the following items in the bag:

• human and pet hair (dog, cat, horse, etc.)
• cotton balls that have been teased apart
• thin strips of cotton fabric
• broom bristles or mop string
• shredded paper
• string or thread
• feathers
• moss/lichens
• cattail fluff
• pine needles

However, dryer lint should be avoided.

I used the following:

Cotton balls, strips of cotton fabric leftover from my mom's quilting project, strips of an old, soft, cotton facecloth, and hair that I stole from my sister's brush!  It seems to be in short supply at our house! :P

James putting the facecloth strips in the onion bag.

Teasing apart the cotton balls so that it's easier for the birds to grab little bits.

We used the blue yarn to "sew" up the edges of the hole that I had cut originally to take the onions out.  I lifted him up and he hung it on a little twig in a horse chestnut tree in our backyard.

The finished product.  Now to get some birds along to use some of it! 

What kinds of spring activities are you doing with your children to get them outside, use up items already in your home, or enhance backyard habitats?

Winter Reading for a Hopeful Homesteader

In general, I love reading novels.  I would curl up reading novels every night were time to permit it.  However, I also love reading about homesteading, gardening, looking after livestock, cooking the bounty of a garden, making bath and body products from an abundance of herbs, etc.  Not only is the topic fascinating, almost every page gives me inspiration for new ideas to pursue, plants to grow, projects to undertake, and perhaps most importantly, a sense of confidence about these endeavours.  The confidence comes from the fact that I see other people out there with similar interests and desires for a self-sufficient lifestyle.  People who hadn't really spent much time tending houseplants let alone expansive vegetable gardens are now growing bushels of heirloom vegetables, extracting honey from their own hives, making cheese with the milk generously provided by their very own cows, and tapping sugar maples to make their own maple syrup.  If they can do it, armed with information and passion, then why couldn't I as well?

In recent cold winter evenings, I love to read and imagine and plan for what will come.  And these are a few of the books that have been good friends and wise givers of advice as I begin down this path to a homesteading lifestyle.  In each case, the books are easy and enjoyable to read, informative, and offer resources for further research on topics of specific interest to readers.  Perhaps some of you may be interested in them as well!

The first one, that I bought a few years ago, is:

Barnyard in your Backyard - This book has given me great ideas about how to start out with the development of a hobby farm and the necessary information to choose, house, and care for livestock.

 Definitely worth a read!






Next, I bought:

The Backyard Homestead. I LOVE this book.  I have already read it cover to cover at least three or four times.  It's broken up into sections about growing vegetables, raising livestock (not as comprehensive as the book above but still helpful), foraging for wild foods, and using the resources at hand to produce all the food you need on a quarter acre of land!  

It's great especially for homestead hopefuls living in urban or suburban areas, but the information is still definitely valuable for those with rural properties as well.

I then borrowed the following two books from a friend with a common love of vegetable gardens (I look forward to many more chats about this topic Pam!):

Both are great books, especially for those of us who've grown a little but are really starting out with a newly established (or re-established) interest in vegetable gardening.  They are written in a very easy-to-read, fun style, and I love that the author is a Canadian who also has an awesome website (You Grow Girl) where you can find tonnes of information.  

The first one, You Grow Girl, has pretty much all the basic information you need to get started gardening, including building the soil, choosing plants appropriate for the site you have access to, how to promote good bugs and deter bad ones, and some super fun projects like growing your own loofahs!  How great is that?  

I read the book cover to cover the first evening I had it!

The second book, Grow Great Grub continues the lesson with a focus on (mostly) vegetables and herbs, looking at each major group of popular vegetables and outlining their needs, companion plants, and things you can do with your bounty!


I'm always on the lookout for new books on this topic, so if you have any recommendations I'd be really glad to hear them.  Perhaps you could try a few of the ones I listed above, and then maybe like me, you'll be hooked too!

This Locavore's Dilemma

So if you're planning to grow things, say vegetables, for instance, what do you need?  Space, check.  Soil, check.  Compost, check.  Seeds, check.  An almost-three-year-old to help you?  Check.  What is that other important thing though?  Oh yes, SUNLIGHT.  Well, it turns out that this may be a problem for me with my budding backyard homestead as while my backyard is on the south side of the house (perfect) the mature spruce, chestnut and Manitoba maple (ick!) trees that I have surrounding it are creating some major shade (not so perfect).

When we moved in here, I thought: wonderful!!  A little backyard woodland oasis, just for me, the chickadees, squirrels, and that female downy woodpecker I noticed a couple of weeks after we moved in.  I even added to the tree cover by planting serviceberry, yellow birch, striped maples, red oaks, etc.  I put in a little pond to attract local amphibians and bathing avian friends.  I hoped that I could encourage a suburban woodland and enjoy knowing that I was creating a little haven for urban wildlife in our neighbourhood.

Well, I did.  We had tadpoles in the pond, song sparrows nesting in our overgrown perennial beds, a skunk family under the shed, a lactating squirrel who I could almost hand feed, robins nests in the chestnut trees, and the odd red fox scouting out the perimeter.  And these are just some of the visitors I had time to notice between commuting to Charlottetown for work and having two beautiful babies.

However, what do we have very little of? Vegetables.  This is what I want to remedy, if this homestead thing is ever going to take off.  Last fall I bit the bullet and cut down one of three chestnuts, this one directly in the centre of my backyard, hoping that the ensuing space would satisfy the photosynthetic requirements of my much hoped-for future crops.  And the backyard is significantly brighter.  But I seriously underestimated the ability of the remaining trees to grab as many photons as possible during the afternoon--so I'm left with a sunnier backyard that still doesn't get enough hours of daylight to be overly productive.

I can grow tomatoes in the planter on my deck, specially built to accomodate a few edible treats by my lovely father-in-law and brother-in-law.  I think I might be able to put in a few more herbs and veggies now that the chestnut is gone.  I have other hopes for some of the rest of the space, that I will fill you in on later. But in order to get larger quantities of pumpkins for baking, tomatoes for sauce-making, garlic for cooking, basil for almost everything, and so on, then I am going to need a sunnier area.

A local well-known environmental activist whose passion is to protect natural spaces and keep our island as green as possible told me (wait for it) to cut down ALL my trees!  She said that as nice as they are, they promote moss growth on my roof and shade out my veggies, and my roof and veggies are apparently more important than the wildlife I am trying to care for in our backyard.  I'll admit I was tempted, for a moment.  I mean, this is the environmental conscience of Prince Edward Island, giving me the go ahead to plunge forward into a homesteader's dream of a sunny backyard clime ripe for the planting!

But then I found the season's last robin's nest.  And I listened to chickadees singing their love songs to each other in the fall.  And I noticed a mourning dove roosting peacefully on the windowsill in the shade of an extremely overgrown weigela while I was changing one of my darling little bums one morning.  And I asked myself, how could I ever have thought I would cut any of them down?  Never mind that the majority are non-native (and even somewhat invasive) species--my nemesis.  Never mind that those spruce were planted too closely together and aren't even very healthy or attractive.  Never mind that there is a lovely wooded park in our city where these birds can find plenty of cover and food.  They like our backyard!  Our children can discover exciting new life when they walk out on the deck.  I enjoy the privacy our trees give us in a subdivision setting.  I want to provide at least a little reprieve from open spaces and predators to the birds and small mammals in our area.

So what is a hopeful homesteader to do?  Well, just wait and see.