Beans, Moles, and Bayberries

In the plot of earth that circles the fence that circles the garden, there is planted a double row of corn and a single row of beans. Now. Our garden is rather large, which left a rather large amount of beans to gather, eat, and can. And when we could gather, eat, and can no more, I made an executive decision to let the beans go to seed and use that seed for next-years-beans and to help feed the chickens and pigs this Winter. Well. Those beans did not give up, let me tell you. Finally, I went out this morning and we did battle. I pulled and picked and pulled and picked some more, and still the plants are studded with buds, just waiting for more beans-to-be. Keep in mind, this is after a frost. Maybe the corn growing just behind protected it. I have no clue. But, while I was out there, I saw a familiar tell-tell sign. There were small clumps of dirt scattered here and there, just like there had been by the apple and plum trees earlier this year.

I shook my head and went into the house. Ten minutes later I reemerged, armed with a bottle of hot sauce. This fiery fluid was liberally dabbled here and there in and around each clump of dirt.

You’d think those foolish moles would’ve learned their lesson last time. I guess they don’t know who they’re dealing with.

After dealing with the mole issue, I moved onto the bayberry hedge that lines the east property line. The bayberries, like most else that’s here, comes in a male and female variety. Now, when they’re planted you have no idea what you’re getting. It’s not like they can be checked that early in life. No. You get what you get. We planted twelve bayberry bushes, hoping eleven would be female (those being the ones who produce the very useful and fine-smelling berries called by their namesake) and one male. But no. Out of all those we planted, only three produce those much coveted berries, gathered greedily each and every Autumn. Now, these berries are not to be eaten. No. They are gathered and frozen. And then each and every day during those long Winter months, a handful is placed into a pot and left to simmer, filling all the house with the smell of the out-of-doors. You see, those who live on the Farm suffer a bit for lack of smelling-o-the-green during the nothing but white Winter. This little bit helps tremendously. And, as an added bonus, wax is released with this simmering, and that is skimmed off and set aside to make the Christmas Eve candle. It’s a win-win.