a man and his hoe

every day is a good day

Author: theMan

  • A Fresh Morning, Hissing Ducks


    It’s a cool, damp morning. Gentle rains through the night have made the air sweet. Each year has its own feel. By now the poppies should be setting buds. They are a long way from that. But the apples are forming, their little babies getting their first blush of red.



    In the hoop house, Snow and Emma are on their nests much of the day, hissing and scolding whenever I approach. Would they scare off a fox? I have my doubts. If all their eggs hatch, that will be some thirty ducklings. Now I see why there are thousands upon thousands of wild ducks on the fields and marshes. At that rate of reproduction, it doesn’t take many generations to end up with millions of offspring, or keep many a fox, hawk, eagle, and coyote well fed.

  • Essence of Summer


    Grass flowers are underrated. Are they even rated at all? Waving in the summer breeze, they are the essence of summer.


    The Japanese name for Lupine is Nobori-Fuji 昇り藤 which means climbing wisteria. The word to climb, noboru, is an interesting word because it can be written three different ways, 上る or 登る or 昇る. All have the meaning of climbing, but with subtle differences.

    上る is used when referring to climbing stairs, climbing up a slope, climbing onto a train, and putting things onto a higher place, such as a table.

    登る is used when you are climbing onto something with purpose or with a lot of effort, such as climbing a mountain, or getting up onto a rostrum to give a speech, or a platform to give a performance.

    昇る is used for things rising high into the sky, such as the sun or smoke, and in the case of the lupine, wisteria climbing into the sky.

    One word, three different ways of writing it, and there are many such words in Japanese, which give it a richness when it comes to expressing yourself in writing.




    Ema and Snow have gotten serious about incubating their eggs. Ema’s nest is a huge mound. My first experience with brooding ducks, it’s interesting seeing the difference between them and chickens. Chickens don’t build such elaborate nests. They don’t cover their eggs when they leave their nests. They don’t hiss the way ducks do when you approach their nests. Chickens stay quiet, until your hands get too close, and then they draw blood.







  • Summer Days, Summer Colors


    We are past the days of new green. The only tree that hasn’t leafed out and settle in for the summer is the mimosa. The chickens spend hours exploring the lush forest floor.


    Soon, bright red thimble berries will be right for eating off the stem. From petal fall to sweet ripeness happens quickly. All it takes is a few weeks of bright sunshine.




    The scent of peonies wafts through the garden. The white ones are as glorious as thunderheads rising above the mountains.



    A few weeks ago I was concerned that I didn’t have any brooding hens yet. I even borrowed this broody black hen to mother a clutch of Welsummer chicks I ordered. This week, four of my hens have gone broody. I will have plenty of mother hens to raise many chicks.

    The brown chicks are Welsummers. The light ones are Redstar roosters the hatchery added to keep the Welsummers warm on their two day journey here. Though, since I ordered 18 of the Welsummer chicks, it is more likely the hatchery added the Redstars to get rid of them. Oh, well, it is what it is. Summer is no time to be upset, not with peonies in bloom.

  • Under Summer Skies, the Gardens Riot


    Looking out at today’s gray skies, it’s hard to believe that just a few days ago we were staring up at brilliant blue summer skies. Yesterday’s rains were a welcome relief. The forecast is for more sunshine and warmth. The garden is already a riot of green and color.




    If you want to provide bees with plenty of food, comfrey is the plant for you. Instead of blooming all at once, its flowerheads are made of rows of flowerbeds which uncurl and bloom row by row. Cut the plant down, and in no time, new shoots spring up to bloom all over again, providing bees with flowers much of the summer, and you with a steady supply of verdant mulch.





  • There Should Be a Name


    One of our duck hens had made a nest, and for the past days, I’ve been collecting the eggs the ducks laid, and adding them in the nest. I think I counted eight yesterday in the nest. This morning, when I opened the hoop house where the ducks spend the night, Emma was not there to greet me and scold me for locking her up all night the way she usually does.

    I found her tucked away on the nest. What a pleasant surprise. She may just be laying an egg, though I doubt it. I’ve never caught her laying an egg at this time of day. And she hissed at me when I got close. My heart’s dancing with joy at the possibility that she is brooding.

    If she is, the ducklings will be a mix of Welsh Harlequin and Welsh Harelquin-Cayuga mix. If she is brooding, today is day one. Duck eggs take twenty-eight days to hatch, which means, if all goes well, there will be beeping in her nest June 10 or so. And even if she isn’t brooding, or things don’t go well, I enjoyed a moment of great delight this morning.


    The apple blossoms have lost their petals and are on their way to becoming apples. What do we call blossoms at this stage? There seems like there should be a name for them.