First Snowfall

Fall has made its inevitable turn into winter; at least for the time being. This morning we shoveled the heavy snow that accumulated during the night. I would say about 4 inches at the most. Definitely not six inches since at that point the snow removal service takes over. Ann already cleared the sidewalks by the time I bundled up and made my appearance.  I didn't use the snow blower because the snow contained a high level of water.  Plus I am always reluctant to use the Snow Commander, because my clothes smell like an oil refinery afterward. 

I ventured to the Prospect Gardens eager to see the effects of winter. Today UW plays Northwestern. Pictured to the right are loyal fans making their way through the Gardens and to Camp Randall, about two block east. A former colleague, Chad and his brother, two nephews and their Grandfather, are attending the game and parked their vehicle in our driveway. Chad is from Oshkosh and his brother and family are from Kalamazoo, Michigan.

They were all bundled up in warm clothes, well prepared for the cold of Camp Randall stadium. As the family made final preparation Chad and I caught up with the news regarding the UW Extension Center. I worked with Chad and other Center staff.

Here are five pictures revealing how the snow has transformed Gardens into a winter wonderland.

Seed pods of the Purple Cone flowers now have caps of white cotton. The brown stems stand out in sharp contrast to the white snow. 

 The reddish-brown stag horns of the Japanese Sumac crown to what struck me as an abstract Christmas tree.  Anybody recall the 1960's flocked Christmas tree craze?  As teenagers, my sister Angie and I were even swept-up in the frenzy. We attempted to "flock" a tree in the basement of our farm home using an old vacuum cleaner. We plugged the hose in the exhaust, as instructed in the kit, that somehow we convinced our reluctant mother to buy. The end result did not come close to what we imagined or to the picture of the flocked tree on the front of the kit.    

 Here is the forsythia with its own "flocking." Mother nature is much more skilled at flocking than my sister and me.

 Raspberry plants transformed into triangles and cotton balls.

 

This late blooming Black Eyed Susan is frozen into a sculpture of green, yellow and white. The effect almost looked like glass from above.

So winter, at least for the next few days, will be our companion. The forecast calls for slowly rising temperatures with a high of 51 on Thanksgiving.  The winter wonderland of Prospect Gardens will surely disappear.







  

    

Bob (Mulch King) Enjoying Lemon Bars

In my last entry about yesterday's work session, I forgot to include pictures of  one of the highlights of the morning: Mulch King Bob enjoying Ann's lemon bars.


These two  pictures tell everything. No need to say anything more.

Memories and Final Comunity Work Session

This morning we completed final preparations of the Prospect Gardens for winter and the next season. Besides myself, Ann, Ken, Laura and Bob (known as the Mulch King) worked diligently under a warm fall sun.  We weeded, cut back plants and put up snow fences. Oh yes, we took a break and enjoyed Ann's homemade lemon bars. A great treat made from a recipe of a cookbook Ann and I received as a wedding present: "Still Cooking in Pulaski." This Wisconsin village near Green Bay is my hometown.

I was born on a farm about six miles south of Pulaski, and lived and worked on that farm until I graduated from high school in 1962.  In April of that year, my Mother sold the farm and moved into the village, and as they say, the rest is history.

My paternal grandmother(who lived with us)was a great gardener; both flowers and vegetables. My mother(who had 14 children) was the cook, and canned vegetables from the garden and the fruit from our orchards. She also purchased and canned peaches, and Door County cherries. Ma canned hundreds of quarts, all stored in the basement. Also stored in the basement were a 5 foot mason crock of sauerkraut, a smaller crock of salt brine pickles, mounds of potatoes, a pile of carrots and pumpkins and squash.  This was our food supply until the next season.

Along with the food cache was a large wood pile and a pile of coal to keep us warm during the cold winter months. Ma kept those wood stoves fed 24/7.

Back to today. Here are seven pictures of today's crew.   Now we wait patiently for a snow cover to protect the plants.

 Here's Ken weeding the raspberry patch. A few raspberries were still available. I found raspberries further west of the Gardens and on the side of the path while walking yesterday. The berries tasted so sweet while being cold in my mouth. A wonderful November treat. Thanks Ken for you diligent work today and throughout the season.











 Here's Bob demonstrating his abilities with the pruning shears. We refer to Bob, as the Mulching King, because he likes to mulch and is good at it. I hasten to add his skills with the pruning shears may add another title; perhaps "Prince of Shears"?


Thanks Bob. I greatly appreciate your enthusiasm and continued participation. You are becoming a gardener's gardener. Mulch season will be here before we know it.

 Laura is busy cutting back the day lilies as she flashes that warm smile. Notice the angle she is working at. Many parts of the Gardens are on slopes, which adds an additional challenge and strain to gardening.

Thanks Laura for your stamina, laughter and dedication . I always enjoy our bantering.

Here is me pounding a steal post for the orange snow fence that stretches across a space on the Regent side and protects the Gardens from over zealous snow plowers. Bob noted my blaze orange windbreaker and wondered if I was expecting to go dear hunting.

Nope, not a dear hunter.  The windbreaker is from my running days when I ran after work and in the dark. I haven't run in years. Now I go to the Shell at Camp Randall during the winter months.

 Four of the crew in front of the installed snow fence and on the Dudgeon Monroe side of the gardens. Notice, Ken, Bob and I are wearing  our Southwest Path Stewards t-shirts. Come join us next season and you too may receive one of these coveted Madison iconic shirts.

 Ann showing a packet holding one of her delicious lemon bars. She always makes a treat. Bob says he volunteers primarily because of Ann's treats. In Bob's case, the way to his volunteering  is definitely through his taste buds.

Thanks Ann for your generosity and for your steady willingness to pitch in. Ann enjoys sweeping and removing leaves and other debris from the ramps, making them safer for all bikers. She weeds too, but wants me around to make sure she isn't pulling up plants !

 Finally, here's Ann and I enjoying the end of the 2015 season. It's been wonderful working with neighbors throughout the six year history of Prospect Gardens. Thanks to all who have participated this year. A special thank you to Joyce who couldn't make it today, and to Claudia and Steve for all their work during this season also.

I look forward to next year as well as the upcoming winter months.  During the winter months, I will continue posting blog entries as the Gardens rest, and the plants sink deeper roots for the 2016 season.

A joyful Thanksgiving to all.







  

Birthday Memories,Sadness and Plants form Christina

Today begin as a joyous day in large part because Emily, our daughter, was born thirty-one years ago during the  very early morning hours in a Lawrence, Massachusetts hospital. So many memories of that day including me leaving the car running and the doors open after I escorted Ann into the hospital. I sheepishly returned to the Honda after a nurse told me about this embarrassing situation. The hospital was located in what Emily would call a "sketchy" part of town.

Another wonderful memory is calling my dear mother-in-law, Ethel, to tell her about the birth of her granddaughter. Later we learned that she got on her knees to thank God for the safe arrival of Emily and the good health of Ann. Since it was very early in the morning, she proceeded to make two pies. Ethel was a great cook and baker. She gave one of the pies to a friend who will never forget the day Emily was born.

These cherished  memories are now tinged with the sadness because of the Paris terrorist attacks.  May all the suffering and pain be held in compassion.

Today reminds me that joy and sorrow can be intertwined and are so part of this unpredictable life. A little joy, a few days, ago was an email from Christina, a neighbor on Gregory Street, offering prairie plants.  Since I have a hard time refusing plants, and especially if they are prairie plants, I picked them up.  The six plants are in the picture to the right.  I am unsure about the type. Some are most likely bee balm, liatris, golden rod and purple cone flower.

It's a little late for planting. Yet because of the warm November and the large earth balls surrounding the plants, chances are good that these will survive and bloom next season.

 I removed a mature shrub planted six years ago that was taking over a substantial area and replaced the shrub with several of the donated plants. In retrospect, the shrub should never have been planted. Who knew that it would grow so vigorously ?

I felt some remorse as I dug the shrub out. The thick main stem and root required using an ax to remove the sturdy shrub. Required also was the pruning shears with the long handles.

 After much physical effort, the bed that once anchored the shrub now has two of Christina's plants. One plant can be seen in the picture. Two other donated plants are nearby and the remaining two found new homes in a northwest section of the Gardens and across the path. Note the rocks surrounding the bed. Much of the gardens have these rocks, used to supposedly control erosion. 

These rocks contribute to what I call "extreme gardening."  As you can see from the picture, rocks are removed to create a bed. In this spot the rocks go at least a foot down into the earth and underneath is a thick mat designed to prevent weeds. So creating a bed requires removing rocks, cutting and removing the mat, and replacing rocks with dirt. I guarantee that the entire effort results in a good physical workout. No need to go to the gym after "extreme gardening."

Tomorrow, we have a community work session from 9 to noon. Preparation for winter, including putting up snow fences and cutting back plants, is the order of the day.  Another workout, but not extreme gardening.  Come join us.

   

   

Perfect and Peaceful Day

I search for words to describe today and how the sun, blue skies and mild wind affected me and revealed itself in the Prospect Gardens. Cliches such as "perfect day" and "peaceful" come to mind and yet these seem inadequate to describe today.  Maybe what I overheard the mail carrier exclaim is a slightly better: "Can you believe this is November 3rd?"


This morning's leisurely bike ride west on the Southwest Commuter Path to the Badger State Trail, and almost to Paoli, couldn't have been better. Sun and a light breeze on the outbound and return trip of nearly 20 miles were enjoyed.  I pedaled at a moderate to slow speed, cherishing the elements of this splendid day.

Along the way and once I crossed into Fitchburg, I stopped to read the text making up the newly installed trail signage along what is now identified as part of the Fitchburg Agriculture Route (FAR). FAR tells the story of Fitchburg's past and present, a story in which farming is important. I am a farm boy at heart, born on a 120 acre farm near Pulaski, Wisconsin and farmed until my senior year of high school (1962), when the farm was sold.

In retrospect, this morning's bike path was a historical tour of my backyard.  I learned that within its city limits Fitchburg (as of 2010) has approximately 11,220 acres in crops and pasture. Farming and farm land is still obvious along the path, illustrating the 21st century phenomena of rural and urban being blended together and existing side-by-side.


The Stoner Prairie, named after the Stoner Family and early settlers from the late 18th century, is still being farmed. According to the signage, the prairie is made up of the richest and most productive soils in the United Stated. Until today, I never knew its name. The dried corn rustled in the gentle wind waiting to be harvested as I made my way west, feeling the gentle wind on my face.
 
I also learned about the one room schoolhouse that closed in 1965 and named after the Stoner family. I  attended a one room schoolhouse near Pulaski, Wisconsin, completing the first six grades before it was closed in 1956.  Both schools closed due to the consolidation movement, an effort to reform rural education based on urban schools. The Stoner School, now a neat and tidy home, is about 2 tenth of a mile west on Vroom Road. My old schoolhouse, Polandi, is also now a home. I could not resist leaving the bike path and traveling the short distance up the grade to see the Stoner school.

I encourage you to bike the FAR and learn more about the history of Fitchburg and the surrounding area. On the way back home and as I peddled up the bike ramp to our street, I noticed how the sun reflected off the trees ahead of me. After a light lunch, I returned attempting to capture the splendor of what I had witnessed.  The remaining three pictures are also an inadequate substitute for what I saw and the impressions made in my mind.











This Japanese Sumac has almost lost all of its foliage, which is unusual. It's bare branches and deep red seed pods stand out against the blue sky.  I'm making a note of this condition. Perhaps a good pruning during the early spring is required.
  



     

A scene looking toward the east.  The red and green foliage in the forefront of the picture is Forsythia. Can you believe, this six foot plant was once only about a foot tall. Without yearly pruning this plant would be taller.

In the early spring, the Forsythia will announce the new season with it's brilliant yellow flowers. However, before then it will face the cold winds of winter. Spring will surely arrive and the Forsythia will once again burst with yellow blooms.

This scene is on the Regent side of the Gardens and towards the west.  Note another Japanese Sumac in the forefront of the picture. This one still has almost its foliage, turning into the characteristic golden yellow; a very healthy plant.


A few years ago, we thought we lost this one due to how the city pushed snow into the Gardens. The force of the snow being pushed severed the plant which proved to be just exactly what it needed. Any day now we will put up the orange plastic snow fences that signals the plowers to place the snow east of this section of the garden.

Tomorrow's forecast  is for more of the same warm weather followed on Thursday by the inevitable rain and cold of  November.  This indeed is a season of transition. My winter mittens, hats and scarfs have found their way from the upstairs guest bedroom closet to the front foyer. Tomorrow they will remain there.


I am anticipating a walk in the nearby UW Arboretum. I will check out the forest while walking through the fallen leaves. The rustling sound of dried leaves is one of the pleasures of late fall.