The Head and The Heart

Few topics can create a passionate debate between your head and your heart quite like puppies.  And when puppies suddenly enter into the lives of very close friends, the question of taking one home just as suddenly enters into your life.  Your heart sees the sweet little creature, hears its tiny attempts at dog noises, feels its soft fur, and implores you to bring home the puppy.

Your head on the other hand, sees the very messy little creature.  Sees how expensive it's going to be, sees how it's going to destroy your house and add more chaos to your already busy family and says a firm "no way" to the heart's emotional longing.

My 16-year-old daughter is all heart when it comes to puppies, as she should be.  She has been lobbying for a dog since she was little and she is the girl who really does love animals.  Her head, however, is nowhere near this decision.  Doesn't take into account that she is leaving for college in about 18 months, or that she is a busy high school junior whose time is filled with school, sports and a job.  She is quick to tell me that she will take care of a puppy; but when I ask her "when?",  She just smiles a sheepish grin, realizing that she knows she has no time for a puppy, but she really hopes that I do!

A puppy, combined with a child who wants a puppy, is a dangerous combination.  And if it weren't for the fact that I tend to give my heart a lot of input when making decisions, I might have some space for a puppy.  But the fact is that my heart has brought me many animals over the years.  We currently have four goats and one rabbit; but our home has hosted three guinea pigs, two other rabbits, one other goat, three hermit crabs and a few fish.  Our daughters have been raised with all sorts of animals--mostly because of the longings and wishes of our collective hearts.  And I am grateful for this.

My head, on the other hand, makes a very good case for why a puppy is not the best idea right now.  My head is very rational.  But in the end, this decision isn't made by either my head or my heart.  Because in the end, neither has the complete picture--they are just part longing and part thinking.   At some point, both voices, having been given time to win me over, become distilled into a knowing.  Sort of like a gut instinct.  And my instinct tells me that right now, things wouldn't go well for the puppy or for me at this point in time.  It's not something I'm talking myself into or out of, I just know that my plate is full to the brim with other creatures and people who depend on me.   And I'm also excited to jump into some new endeavors for me--without a puppy as a distraction.

I am, however, very grateful to have friends with puppies.  We get to watch the puppies grow, pick them up and cuddle them,  and play with them.  Even puppy-sit from time to time!  My heart and my head are both quite happy with this arrangement.  Until the next time some baby creature come along and captures my heart and we do this process all over again...

Sunset at Solstice

During this time of year, sunlight is a precious commodity.  We are at the solstice -- our darkest time.  And we live far enough north to really feel the affects of this winter season.  The sun rises in the south east, drifts high enough in the sky to send some horizontal rays our way, and then sets in the south west.  But the light we do have is beautiful.  It illuminates the snowy tops of our mountains, lights up the frosty branches and dusts the waters with a peachy glow.  

This picture was taken on the northern side of Arrow Point--a point on the western side of Bainbridge Island.  The view is towards the Kitsap Peninsula with the Olympic Mountains in the background.

Spectacular Winter Sunset!  Beautiful colors during our dark days.

 A nice finish to a pretty winter day.

A Puppy Christmas!

Some dear friends of ours are in the midst of A Christmas Puppy Miracle.  Or you could say a Christmas Puppy Crisis.  Either way, the story is so fun, I've asked if I could share it.  It starts like this...

Our friends, Jon and Jeannie, had been "dog-less" for a few months, and felt it was time to add animals back into their lives.  Two beautiful Golden Retriever/Bernese Mountain dog sisters became available for adoption, and they decided these sweet sister dogs--pups really as they are only 18 months old--would make a great addition to their family.  They have three girls and very full lives, but are the sort of people who need animals to round out the family chaos.  Probably why we are such good friends.

The dogs they adopted, Bailey and Josie, are very sweet animals.  They are the sort of dogs you know right away are more than just dogs.  For those of you who love animals and are well acquainted with them, you know what I mean when I say that.  Some dogs are just that--dogs.  But every now and then you meet one who looks you in the eye and seems to speak to you.  A dog with a soul.  These two are those kind of dogs.

The pet adoption process went well, a few weeks went by and their family life returned to a nice "normal."  Our friends went away for a Thanksgiving vacation and when they returned, after a very long flight, they of course greeted their dogs.  Only Josie seemed a little off.  And when they started to play with her, they felt something moving in her belly.

A quick bit of google research, followed by a visit to their vet, and they learned that their new "puppy" was about a week away from becoming a puppy mama!  Unbeknownst to anyone, she was pregnant when they adopted her.  And who is the father?  Anyone's guess.  When the original owners of the dogs were told of this puppy predicament, they answered that the dogs were outside on their 5 acre farm a lot.  The father could be just about anyone.

I believe some panic, and some "how on earth are we going to deal with puppies right before Christmas", consumed them for a little while.  Unplanned puppies are an exciting, but rather intrusive event!  But they got to work, accepting that life is filled with unplanned surprises, and a week later in the wee hours of the morning, Josie began to deliver her pups.  Ten tiny pups were born over the course of the night.  It was a messy, messy process.  Josie chose to deliver her pups in their old pack and play rather than in the nice whelping box Jon built.  Which sounds just about right.

These pups were born last Thursday morning and our girls have been over several times.  Truly, one never tires of watching tiny puppies wiggle and squirm and nurse and nap.  Josie, the mama dog is the most natural mother I've ever seen.  And it is sweet to watch her tend to her pups.  Bailey is a little lost as she misses her sister.  But she too is keeping a respectful distance and seems to know what her place is right now.  It helps that she is getting lots of attention because no one can walk away from her--those eyes of hers tell everyone just how she is feeling and you can't help but to sit down and offer her some attention.

Our friends are handling this puppy miracle with such grace, and word has spread around this little island very quickly.  I think they will have no problem finding homes for them all.  The best line of all has come from their youngest daughter, who is also named Grace.  When asked about what type of dog the father might be, Grace, who is four, answered, "well, it might be a hamster?"  

Thank you Jon, Jeannie, Lindsay, Caroline and Grace for sharing your puppy miracle with us.  

Bailey checking on her sister and wondering about those pups!

Three black pups and seven golden pups were born.  The black ones blend in with Josie.

Grace, Lindsay and Caroline watching the first pup be born at 2:40 AM!

Sophie holding one of the pups--you can see why Grace thought they might be part Hamster!

Golden-Leaved Goat Treats

Beautiful Fall colors brighten the shores of  Puget Sound

I'm listening to the rain pour down outside.  We are in the middle of a huge storm system that has most of Western Washington on flood alerts.  During these storms I am very thankful to live on a large rock in the middle of the Puget Sound, and not next to one of our quickly-rising rivers.  But still, the water is everywhere.  Our goat yard is becoming so mucky, that even the bunny has taken refuge in the barn.

Sweet pea devouring as many leaves as will fit into her ample stomach!

Sadly, this storm seems to have officially ended the time of year when everything is covered in crunchy, colorful fall leaves.  Last week, we were watching the huge golden leaves of our Big-Leaf Maple trees rain down. And no one was happier about that than our goats.  Each leaf that floated delicately down into their goat yard was like a little piece of food heaven for them!  I let the goats out for a field trip into the sweetly scented yard of leaves and they ate and ate.  Little Sweet Pea ate so much that she looked like she had swallowed a giant MnM!  And she waddled back to the barn on her short little legs looking quite satisfied.

One of the many Big Leaf Maple trees towering above our goat yard

It always feels like the beautiful colors and drifting leaves of Fall will go on and on.  Then suddenly I look up at the trees and see that they are almost done.  And then a rain storm like this comes through and washes off the few leaves still left on the trees and renders everything soggy.  It looks like the goats are near the end of their delicious leaf buffet for the year.

Blackberry, Lily and Silver

Letting Go...

Yesterday I hopped into the shower after a hard day's work, only to discover that my hot water was in short supply.  I was, after all, showering after my three daughters.  I reached for my razor, thinking I should shave quickly before the goose bumps set in.  Only the razor was gone.  Stolen from my shower by my oldest who decided that stealing my razor would be easier than replacing the dull blade on her own.

And here we go again...life with three daughters.  My stuff disappears.  I can't keep nail polish in my bathroom.  Or tweezers.  Or clippers, or any "tool of beauty".  Same goes for hair products and lotions.  And it's not like the girls don't have their own lotions, and nail clippers.  But they lose theirs.  And somehow it is always easier to just grab mine than to look for their own.

If you're a guy you might as well stop reading now, because I am about to delve into the world of feminine products. First of all, I love that we have this name "feminine products" to use when talking about our pads and tampons.  Makes it all sound so sanitary.  But let's be honest.  It's not sanitary, not at all.  The girls' bathroom garbage can is overflowing with the wrappers that come from so many monthly cycles.  And when I need my own products, are they handy?  No, they've been raided...of course.

When the girls were little, I remember listening to my friends with little boys complain about the pee all around their toilet.  'Little boys have no aim at all!', they would sigh.  And I think at that point in life, the girls were somewhat easier--at least in the realm of potty training.  But I knew that my time would come.  I looked ahead and saw that three daughters going through adolescence might be challenging.  Other people would tease us.  They would say things like, "wow, three daughters...aren't you in for some fun teenage years." And we all had a good laugh about the future.  Yes, those are going to be some good days all right!  Well, the future is here, and I'm not laughing.  Mostly, I cry.  I find that when we are all PMSing together, it helps to simply shed a few tears.  Or a lot of tears depending on the month.

But here is the absolute, gut wrenching irony of the whole thing.  I know that I will get to a place in life (down the road a bit), where I will actually miss this.  And this is what makes motherhood so completely, utterly insane-asylum-crazy.  Every phase that drives you around the bend is also the same phase that you will miss.  I know this is true because we have been through so many phases already.  The endless diaper, breast-feeding, sleepless night phase...I miss it.  The bi-polar toddler, plastic toys all over the living room phase...I miss it.  And just recently I even realized, (and this one is truly shocking) that now that Emily is driving, I kind of miss my time driving her all around.  I know--totally crazy!!

And so it is with this history, that I acknowledge the future day when I will miss this phase of motherhood too.  IF I make it through in one piece.  And right now that is a little uncertain.

Angry Rabbits and Friendly Goats

The animals are acting peculiar. Not quite normal.  Of course this assumes that animals have a "normal" and aren't affected by the seasons, the weather and their hormones; which of course they are.

Parsley the Rabbit

And I shouldn't go so far as to say that all of our animals are acting strangely.  It's just the rabbit and one of our goats.  The rabbit is mostly angry.  He is currently an angry ball of white fluff.   Every time we enter the barnyard, we enter slowly...and keep a sharp eye out for him.  He doesn't bite or hurt us, but he runs at our feet while making these mad snorting sounds.  The image most people have of a quiet little bunny?  Not true.  Rabbits are very capable of expressing themselves--or at least ours is.

He's mad when we come to feed him and he's mad when he's finished eating.  He wants his rabbit treat, and he wants it right now!  And we do of course feed him, but he seems extra hungry lately.  After he finishes his food, he pulls the dish out of his hutch and tosses it into the air.  We're pretty sure he's using some choice rabbit swear words as he does this.  Our guess is that he senses the upcoming cold temperatures and is trying to fatten himself up.  But the anger?  Not sure why.

Blackberry is acting strangely too.  Only his change is a good one.  He is 3 1/2 years old and has been our goat since he was 3 months old.  We named him Blackberry and he's grown into the name well.  He is prickly.  Untrusting.  Difficult.  His sixth sense about goat maintenance tasks like hoof-trimming and worming are impeccable, and make him difficult to work with.  And after years of treats and care, he still maintains a suspicious eye for the humans in his life.  He tolerates us, but has never seemed to bond with us.

Blackberry

But about two weeks ago, his suspicious nature started to crack.  It seemed like he was trying to play...with me!  At first I didn't know what to make of his behavior.  He was acting like he does with the other goats, wagging his tail, turning his head, prancing and doing the crazy head butting thing they do.  At first I wondered if he had finally decided to attack me.  But he just wasn't acting aggressive.  It was definitely playful.  So I gave him a good scratch behind his ears and rubbed his back--something he rarely lets me do.

And now we have this ritual every morning after I bring the goats their hay.  Blackberry wants attention from me!  He is acting more like a golden retriever than a prickly goat.  I suddenly feel like I have a lovable animal and I look forward to his funny morning antics.  I'm pretty sure his change in behavior is a result of too much head-butting.  Maybe he's finally given himself a concussion and has forgotten that he doesn't trust me.

Either way, I now enter the barnyard poised for an attack from the angry rabbit, and ready to play with my once prickly goat.  The seasons are definitely changing.

A Mushroom Forest

Summer has given way to Fall, and Winter feels right around the corner.  Each morning I awake to a little less light, a little more dark.  The dampness is beginning to permeate the soil and the air, and I find that I am dragging my feet about going to work.  It's warm in the house and cold outside.

But I am always glad for the fresh air and glad for a job that forces me outside, even when it's cold and rainy.  The garden offers treasures to find in every season, and in the damp, cool of these Fall days, it is the mushroom forests that appear--seemingly overnight--that catch my eye.

I still haven't learned which are good for eating, so I stay away from harvesting.  But I'm hoping to someday learn this art.  First, my curiosity is endless when it comes to plants, and it pains me that I don't know the edible from the non-edible of the mushroom world.  I know most of the edible plants and berries that are native to our region, so mushrooms are the logical next frontier of knowledge for me.  But unlike most of the native plants around here, mushroom harvesting comes with danger.  Eat the wrong one and you could end up in the hospital fighting for your life.  So for now, I enjoy their sudden emergence into the Fall garden landscape, and buy the delicious local mushrooms at the grocery store.

Apple Season

My favorite season has arrived!  I love Fall for the colorful leaves, crisp evenings and abundance of fresh apples.  We live in the apple capitol of the world--or at least that is what any Washington State tourism brochure will tell you.  And any road trip through Central Washington makes it pretty clear that we grow a LOT of apples.  The climate of Central Washington, with its 300 days of sunshine and cold winters, is perfect for apple and pear orchards.  Visit the Washington Apple Country site for more information on Washington apples.

Central Washington is also a beautiful destination for a Fall trip.  Every year my family goes to Lake Wenatchee State Park, near the Bavarian-styled town of Leavenworth, for one last camping trip.  The park is nearly deserted, the air is crisp and cold, and the fall colors are spectacular.  We spend our evenings playing games at our campsite, huddled around a roaring campfire. Our days, on the other other hand, are filled with bratwurst and beer lunches at the Octoberfest celebration in Leavenworth, and hikes around Lake Wenatchee.  It's a perfect balance of too much good food, too much good beer and too much relaxing.  Definitely something to look forward to every year!

Crisp nights make for beautiful fall colors

Our trip also includes a visit to our favorite fruit stand, Prey's Fruit Barn.  The barn is filled with apples, pumpkins, pears and locally made treats.  The girls spend time at the apple sample area, tasting slices of sweet and juicy apples to help us decide which varieties to buy.  This year we bought four boxes:  one each of Jonagold, Fuji, Golden Delicious and Honeycrisp. We now get to enjoy unlimited apple eating for a few weeks, and when I get to it, homemade applesauce to eat all winter.

A Tiny Tree Frog

A little green tree frog hidden in the rhododendron

Sometimes the best garden art is the kind that surprises you.  The kind that you hear before you see, and at first can't even find.  I love the daily unfolding of life in the garden--creatures and plants working together, and me joining in the melee as both an observer and a natural force of my own.

And then, the discovery of a tiny tree frog hidden by its color, but adding its voice to the garden.  Nature once again providing the best garden art.

A Goat-proof Rabbit Hutch

Most rabbits live safe lives inside rabbit hutches.  They might be bored, but they definitely don't have to compete for food.  Our rabbit, on the other hand, lives a free life.  He is able to come and go into his hutch at will, and has a large yard to hop around.  The downside is that he shares his life with goats who are obsessed with eating his food.

We had refurbished his old hutch (time and again...) to be as goat-proof as possible; but even still, with four masters of destruction (the goats) working away on the hutch, it was falling apart. When the roof nearly collapsed, replacing the rabbit hutch moved to the top of our list. Brian and Sophie used the last few days of summer to design and build a goat-proof rabbit hutch--not necessarily something most rabbit owners need to consider!

So what does a goat-proof rabbit hutch look like?  A completely enclosed home with hidden access. The goats are totally locked out.  The rabbit door is actually a hole in the floor of the hutch that he comes up through.  And it took nearly 8 hours for Parsley's pea-sized brain to figure out how to do this. We used treat lures, a ramp, and even picked him up and put him inside to show him the "door" in the floor of his new home.  

He is quite pleased with himself now.  He is able to eat his food in peace, while the goats look longingly through the wire mesh, unable to find a way to his food.  And we are able to fill his food dish through a latched opening in the top of the hutch.  So far, the new hutch has confounded the goats.

Perhaps the best upside to the new hutch is that it is lower to the ground, and little Sweet Pea (the African Pygmy) finally has a perch that she can jump onto.  Her short little legs have kept her from being able to access the high places our other goats love, and it's nice to see her have a little accomplishment in her life.

Sweet Pea--our tiny African pygmy goat

A Verbena View

Verbena bonariensis

One of the benefits of my untidy garden, is having plants that pop up where I least expect them.  I love the "self-seeders"; and you really only get them if you practice some garden neglect.  Half of the color in my garden comes from plants that have seeded themselves.  And yes, there are times when they run a little rampant (the yellow Welsh poppies are a good example of this!), and need some reining in.  But I am usually quite happy with the robust, colorful plants who put themselves where they feel most comfortable, and joyfully bloom away.

The foliage of this verbena is almost non-existent.  The plant is light and airy, with purple flowers perched high atop green stalks.  They almost float above the garden.

And there is a certain type of white butterfly who loves this plant.  It seems that almost every flower stalk has a butterfly on it, or fluttering nearby.  I never get tired of watching them.  Luckily I have several verbenas near the deck where I can watch the interplay of white butterfly and purple flower.

When the weather turns and we are forced indoors by winter cold and rain, I will think back to summer days like this.  Sitting on our sun-soaked deck with a glass of iced tea, surrounded by birds, butterflies and blooms.

Crocosmia--Late Summer Sunshine

Crocosmia naturalized on a hillside

Crocosmia is a plant that captures colors straight from the sun, and brings them to the late summer garden.   The tiny bulbs naturalize easily on slopes or fringe areas of the garden.  And once established, they need no extra water.  For some reason, they are blooming really profusely this year.  I can only guess that they have liked our cooler than normal summer weather.  But whatever the reason, they are definitely catching my eye right now.

Bright yellow centers glow in the sunlight

The foliage is sword-shaped, and almost resembles a clump of grass.  In the spring, the new shoots emerge pale-green, and are a welcome sight after a long winter.

Crocosmia comes in shades of yellow, orange and red

This is a plant that is very easy to divide and is common to a lot of Northwest gardens.  It's readily available in all of the nurseries, but if you have a friend who loves to garden, chances are they would be happy to share a few crocosmia bulbs.

Hibiscus in Seattle?

It is sad to watch a plant suffer.  And plants which are clearly out of their eco-system, are especially sad cases.  I have a plant that is in need of Plant Amnesty--a one way ticket to Honolulu to be precise.

My very unhappy hibiscus plant

My plant's journey through suffering began last May.  It was a birthday gift to me from a good friend who loves plants as much as I do.  And when it was given to me, it was stunning.  It's leaves were thick and glossy, and it was covered in beautiful golden yellow Hawaii blossoms.  No doubt it was started in a nice warm nursery, coddled with simulated south pacific island air.  I've never had a hibiscus before, but I was excited about creating a tropical container for our summer patio.  My plan was to combine the hibiscus with some other tropical looking plants--maybe an interesting coleus, with a lime-green sweet potato vine and some bright pink impatiens.

My enthusiasm waned however, after I did a bit of research on this plant family.  I found out that hibiscus' like temperatures in the range of 70-80 degrees Fahrenheit.  In May, we were a long way from that type of warmth!  And so I began the work of trying to keep the little hibiscus happy until summer appeared.  I kept it in its little plastic pot in a sunny spot in our dining room.  And when the temperature got warm enough outside, I moved it to a warm spot on our deck.  If you've seen any weather data about Seattle this year, you will find that up until August, my plant's outside time could be measured in hours, not days.

Finally....a bloom!

My plan of a tropical container ended as I watched the hibiscus shrink to about half its size.  It was withering away! I focused instead on trying to keep it happy.  I misted it with water, I put it in the warmest parts of the garden, and finally last week it bloomed again!  Such a sunny flower, but I'm not sure it was worth the effort.  The plant is still clearly miserable, and summer--what summer we had--is on its way out. This was just not the summer for hibiscus in Seattle.

Because I am still harboring fantasies about tropical plants, I may try to overwinter the hibiscus in the dining room and try again for next year.  But if the plant keeps shrinking, this may not end well.  Unless of course Plant Amnesty steps in and saves my little hibiscus with a one-way ticket to Hawaii.

Fresh Garden Veggies

Our row of broccoli, ready for harvest

We are finally starting to harvest food from our garden.  The broccoli, though late, has been incredible this year.  Those thick green leaves have loved our cool spring and summer.  Likewise with the lettuces and swiss chard.  I can't remember a year where we have had such lush lettuce crops.  The downside is that my family is tired of eating salad.

We don't have a very big garden, but I like to grow enough for a few summer meals. Mostly we use the garden for 'grazing'.   When the berries start to ripen, the girls will head up to the garden to snack.  I try to get a handful of blueberries, strawberries or raspberries for my cereal, but I have to beat both the birds and the girls to the berries!  And some of our crops, like broccoli, produce just enough for a few meals. Not really enough to even call a crop! But even so, it is deeply satisfying to walk into the garden and gather dinner.

Our veggies grow nice and big on aged goat manure

With the weather being so cold all spring, our garden is oriented this year toward cool weather crops.  I decided not to take a chance on growing heat-loving plants like pumpkins, cucumbers or peppers.  And the tomato starts I bought are all of the coolest, short-season variety.  (They have names like 'Northern Delight')  The basil starts I planted a month ago have been sitting in the ground looking rather glum up until this past week. And the zucchini plants, purchased when a rare sunny day gave me hope for a summer, are just now setting tiny zucchini.

Our harvest is small, but even so, a vegetable garden is a worthwhile undertaking.  Nothing tastes better than food plucked fresh from the garden.  In fact, our girls eat some vegetables from the garden that they normally might not try.  Broccoli, for example, was a vegetable they learned to like only after eating it from the garden. And when they were little, they would eat green beans right off the stalk--followed, of course, by generous amounts of candy.  But at least they were grazing on some fresh food.

fresh garden broccoli covered in cheese!

My biggest hope for this season is that we get enough sunshine to ripen the tomatoes.  Right now I have plants covered in green tomatoes and I'm dying to see how 'Mr. Stripey' and 'Japanese Black Trifele' turn out.  Who wouldn't want to sample a pink and green striped tomato?  I've also got some purple, blue and yellow potatoes that I'll be excited to dig up this Fall.  Insects, disease and deer all attempt to bring disappointment into the garden.  And they frequently succeed.  But the seasoned gardener knows that the garden always holds promise in the harvest.

Our Solar Powered Friends

A bumble bee on the herb Nepeta (also known as catmint)

The garden has brought me so much joy this past month.  After an incredibly long and cold winter, I have been soaking up the sweet smells of flowers and the long hours of daylight.  We are still in an odd weather pattern and haven't quite gotten to our normal summer drought, but I'm glad to have shed some of my thinsulate and fleece layers!  And I am thrilled to once again share my garden work with bees.

Our climate is home to the sweetest, most docile little bumble bees.  Right now they are busy working away, gathering pollen and nectar.  Sometimes I see them resting on a branch or flower, no doubt taking a much needed break to recharge.  Occasionally, they even land on my arm to rest!

A bee waiting for the sun to warm her for flying.

But my joy in working with them is coupled with concern.  We, and by we I mean our planet, are facing a serious shortage of bees.  The honey bee population has been in decline; and in fact, if it weren't for bee keepers, there would most likely be no honey bees left.  The wild honey bee has all but disappeared.  Many factors are playing into the collapse of honey bee hives, but no one really knows the exact cause.  The list of possible contributing factors includes the bee mite, pollution and pesticide use, climate change, and development.  It's not known which of these is the most serious threat, or if it is a combination of all of them.

I haven't seen any honey bees in my garden for years.  A friend of mine who is a beekeeper explained that the reason is because there are no bee keepers near my garden.  So unless I, or one of my neighbors decides to keep bees, we are out of luck.  I am thankful for the other varieties of bees who pollinate for me, but none of them are nearly as efficient as the honey bee.

This year it became very apparent to me just how important bees are for food production.  I have two asian pear trees which normally have high fruit yields.  But this year we had an exceptionally cold spring--too cold for our solar powered bee friends.  I hovered around my asian pear trees every day during blossom time, listening for the sounds of flying insects.  It was dead silent.  One particularly nice day I went up hoping it was warm enough for the bees to move, but nothing.  Not one flying, pollinating creature was able to work in the cold temperatures.  And as spring moved along and the blossoms faded and fell, it was quickly apparent that I would have no asian pears this year.  Thankfully, it warmed in time for a few apples to set.  But the bee problem translates into a food problem very quickly.

A bumble bee deep inside a rhododendron flower

I am once again thankful for the hard working farmers who manage to produce food in spite of weather and insect problems.  And I'm grateful for scientists who are researching and trying to find solutions to our honey bee problem.  You can join in as a "citizen scientist" with the The Great Sunflower Project if you are interested in helping find solutions.  Check out their website as it has great information on bees and how you can help.  Tomorrow, July 16th, is their Great Bee Count.  They are asking for gardeners around the country to spend a small amount of time in their garden, counting bees.  Sounds like a good time to enjoy a cup of tea, and a perfect project for a possibly bored school child!  I'd love to hear from anyone who takes part in this project.