Garden good to go and going on parade

"I am definitely not the guy who drives to Vegas and stands in the middle of the street drunk with beads around his neck. I'm the guy that's with his family in the backyard holding sparklers."

 James Marsden 

The yard is in full bloom thanks to Mother Nature.

AUBURN, Maine — Thanks to Mother Nature, a sturdy shovel and a neighbor’s industrial tiller, my garden no longer looks like the contents inside a huge pipe that carries sewerage from 43 Massachusetts communities to be treated at Deer Island Waste Water Treatment Plant in Boston.

All that organic table waste, fresh-cut grass and wood ash that I dumped in the garden all fall and winter has now been ground to a pulp by a tiller that handles like a bucking bronco.

The crops are in and I have installed a flower bed that should be featured in “Home and Garden.”

We have already experienced summer-like weather and a chance of a frost has passed in Maine

I have planted tomatoes, summer squash, peppers, cucumbers, spinach and carrots. 

The soil looks good and all systems are go for a good garden — depending on the weather and frigging varmints, of course.

All gardeners and farmers are always at the whim of the weather, but people who like getting their hands dirty also understand weather is our friend no matter how fickle it is.

So now we wait and water our land, hoping the dirt yields vegetables not tainted with pesticides.

The flower garden is teaming with color as Mother Nature to struts her stuff.

I recently read a great piece in National Geographic about how nature and your backyard can relieve up to 30 percent of stress the moment you step foot into a green paradise.

My well-kept yard is a refuge and a quiet spot to read or write.

If I am feeling worn out, a hike or my yard is great way to revive my tired bones and give me piece of mind — and vegetables.

Going on parade

OLD ORCHARD BEACH, Maine — An hour-trip to the coast and stroll along the beach in a refreshing sea breeze does a body good.

Breathing in that salt air and looking out over the water in this seaside community made my Memorial weekend.

A slice of pizza and a dish full of golden fries in the sun, which finally made an appearance around noon, brightened our day.

But we got word that a Memorial Day parade was heading our way and it would be passing through town.

I hadn’t been to a Memorial Day parade in years. I appreciate Americans who served and paid the ultimate sacrifice with their lives. Parades are just one way to tip our hats to men and women who have defended our nation.

The folks in Old Orchard Beach paid a wonderful tribute to the men and women who served with distinction with a spectacular parade.

The parade also featured a submarine float to honor all those who served in the silent service.

Kudos to Old Orchard Beach for paying tribute to American servicemen and women.

Watching people take time out of the busy schedules to line the streets and salute veterans made me proud.

Autumn closes in on my garden

"A garden is a grand teacher. It teaches patience and careful watchfulness; it teaches industry and thrift; above all it teaches entire trust."
Gertrude Jekyll 

AUBURN — You can't eat flowers, and that explains why I don't focus on planting roses or tulips.

But I went ahead and planted sun flowers, anyway.

This season, which got off to a rough start with 20 days of rain in June,  I tried growing sun flowers by seed. Two poked through the soil and survived to grow 10 feet.

The twin Russian giants tower over my garden as cars slow down and their occupants give me a thumbs up when they see sun flowers, putting smile on this proud Green Thumb's face.

Still, I concentrate on vegetable gardening simply because I enjoy consuming organic rabbit food, which is not tainted by deadly pesticides and fertilizers. I must confess that I use one pesticide, Garden 8, sparingly to ward off aphids and cucumber beetles. 

I enjoy toiling in the soil and watching thing grow.

I have rigged myself for silent running — just like a submarine does when it goes deep or is creeping up on an enemy. I shut off the damn TV, dream of taking a hammer to my annoying phone and pull the plug on your computer for 48 hours. I have discovered that there are plenty of hours in the day to get my hands dirty.

I save money, lose weight, and enjoy the fruits of my labor. I have built my own Shangri-la and enjoy getting down and dirty with nature and all its mystery.

Trust me on this.

Sure, I have been frustrated by the weather, bugs and other varmints that treat my garden like a buffet. But I am always surprised at the taste of my home-grown tomatoes and remain the envy of my good neighbors who are often on the receiving end of a bag of vegetables.

But the cool winds of September remind me that another garden is on its last leg and another summer is fading away.

Last year, an Auburn police cruiser was riding by the yard. He stopped and complimented me on my garden.

"Officer, you know your need is two fresh, prize-winning summer squash," I said.

"Are you kidding," the officer said.

I walked over and handed him the squash. I told him to dice them up, add olive oil, butter, bread crumbs and bundle the squash up in aluminum foil and throw the vegetables on the grill.

"No kidding," the officer said. "Thanks."

"Hey, it is always good to grease the police," I said.

We both laughed. I discovered that gardening is also a great way to build community relations with local law enforcement, too.

Late bloomer

“The green thumb is equable in the face of nature's uncertainties; he moves among her mysteries without feeling the need for control or explanations or once-and-for-all solutions. To garden well is to be happy amid the babble of the objective world, untroubled by its refusal to be reduced by our ideas of it, its indomitable rankness.” 
― Michael Pollan, Second Nature: A Gardener's Education

AUBURN — A month-long deluge, which produced enough rain to nudge the ill-fated Titanic free from a sandbar, put a huge strain on gardens across central Maine.

According to a story in the newspaper I work for, the Sun Journal reported there was 20 days of precipitation in June, which means my garden and pallid Mainers only saw 10 days of sun. The Pine Tree State was on the receiving end of 7.32 inches of rain in June. The norm is 3.57 inches.

All this London-like weather and soupy mess meant all gardens were either washed away or struggled to grow against the gray sky.

But what a difference a month makes despite this summer's pathetic start.

Just when I thought I my garden would become as worthless as bunch of weeds, July heated up in the nick of time and broiled the Northeast in a week-long heat wave that made us all long for some cool, Canadian air. Everything will be late this season, but better late than never.

The sun was like the cavalry in those old western movies. The bright-burning star rescued my damp garden from oblivion.

And then it happened. My garden began to grow and came to fruition in the sweltering July heat. This season's harvest won't rival last year's bounty, but at least I am seeing results despite June's monsoons and a groundhog assault that sent me looking for Army-surplus artillery. These bastards gnawed on my broccoli and chewed up nearly all of my lettuce. My neighbor and I captured a total of five of these destructive creatures and banished them to a nearby lake where they are sunning themselves on the shoreline. If they come back, I will take these bastards out for a walk, but they know better not to make an appearance.

The cucumbers survived and I have picked about a dozen of them. The hardy broccoli flourished after the groundhogs conveniently went missing (I did not report their disappearance to the proper authorities). I am growing big-boy tomatoes, and they are pretty damn big and there are plenty of them. Colleagues who have sampled these prize tomatoes say they are so sweet and delicious. 

Their accolades make me blush with pride. But I am a master gardener, and I am that good.

Right now, I am preparing at least 10 bags of frozen spaghetti sauce and using the rest of the tomatoes for grilled-cheese sandwiches. 

My carrots took a hit, and I will only get a few of those. After most of my lettuce was ravaged by these fur bags, I planted Swiss chard and spinach, and I recently picked nearly a shopping bag full of the green stuff, and it really is good stuff.

My biggest surprise is the way my summer squash came to life after I planted it by seed. I had never planted squash from seed before. I usually purchase seedlings from a local farmer and take my chances with Mother Nature. My green peppers also surprised me.

I did manage to grow two huge sun flower plants by seed. I lost several of them to the jaws of my nemesis — the groundhog. They now stand seven-feet tall, and could give any NBA player a hard time underneath the net.

I think there are two reasons why my garden endured a wet beginning to summer. It is slanted and the water drains to one corner, and I use grass clippings to smother weeds. The rain also has a hard time penetrating the clippings, which also add nitrogen to the plants.

But I will take anything the garden yields because store-bought produce will never, ever stand up to my healthy vegetables.

Star Wars

Besides my passion for gardening, I also enjoy cooking in the kitchen and on my deck. I recently received a Brinkman smoker grill. It looks like R2-D2, but the diminutive robot can't cook meat and vegetables like the Brinkman.

I know Obi-won Kenobi and Luke Skywalker wouldn't mind sampling one of my culinary delights prepared on this R2-D2 wannabe.

Spring has not sprung

AUBURN, Maine — Despite a miserable, fu$% spring that might be responsible for triggering a wave of manic depression across the Pine Tree State, life is finding a way to poke through the cold, waterlogged ground and offer us hope that summer is waiting in the wings to make a grand entrance.

A sea of compost has been resting atop my garden all winter, protecting it from wind erosion. Every other day, Anthony or I have trudged out to the snow-packed garden and tossed peels, wood ash from our woodstove, coffee grinds, egg shells, and anything else that benefits our soil. Throw in mulched leaves and grass, rotten apples and pears from a final fall cleanup, and we have dirt that you could eat.

The snow is gone, but cool temperatures, intermittent snow flurries and hail have been unkind to plants that bloom in early spring.

Still, there are signs of life in this frozen tundra we call Maine. My chives and scallions are bursting forth and will be edible in a couple of weeks long before I plant my garden at the very end of May.

Right now, the garden looks like throw-up. It's as if Mother Nature heaved all over the land. In fact, the entire landscape of this beautiful state has been barfed on by a winter that just won't let us alone. It is still gray and any grass that wants to green up is gun shy.

But underneath this mushy, gooey compost, lies soil that makes a gardener's mouth water. The worms have been busy all winter turning this crap into pristine soil, and these guys work for free. I can't wait to take an industrial-strength tiller and churn this soil into a garden of delicious vegetables.

At this point, I am playing the waiting game, hoping April will suddenly resemble spring. I could go on and on about the weather, but shaking my fists at Mother Nature is like bitching about congress's inability to make one simple frigging decision without taking the "what's in it for me" attitude.

So I bide my time until the weather clears, but my patience is just about gone.

Mother Nature apparently forgot to tell Old Man Winter to scat!

Keeping track of my son

When any kid decides to play a sport, he should be applauded by his parents. Participating in any high school sport requires dedication and teaches students how to manage their time.

Colleges also like to see it on a prospective student's application.

My son has decided to give track the old college try, and I find it encouraging that athletes on the Edward Little track team encourage him to go the distance. There is a lot of camaraderie and goodwill going on in this squad, and that is a credit to a coaching staff who continues to inspire high school athletes.

My son has become good skier when he became a member of the Lost Valley Ski Patrol Team. This dedicated bunch taught him how to become a fine skier.

But when Anthony became aware of the rigorous, physical training at Maine Maritime Academy, he decided track would get him in tip-top condition.

But Anthony has opted to become a thrower. Running is definitely not his forte. Look, whatever he does, I will be there to root him on because that's what involved parents do.

Bitching in the rain

LISBON, Maine — We had enough of cowering inside our home, hoping the weather would warm up to take a short hike.

So we ignored threatening clouds, the of-and-on drizzle, and cold, and headed to the Papermill trail just off Route 196 in Lisbon.

It is about a two-mile walk along the Sabattus River. The slow, steady climb to the top ends near an elementary school. It is a great way to enjoy nature and the soothing sounds of a meandering river.

Showers drifted over the area and made for a damp hike, but we wouldn't let a nasty spring spoil our short journey.

We are still holding out for summer.

Harvest moon

My splendid carrots and freshly grown gourds, which I call affectionally call gordo.

AUBURN - My garden is coming to an abrupt end. 

September's cool nights and fading sunshine means fall is taking over and squeezing out summer.

September is like a mafia thug closing in another crook's territory.

But my hardier plants hang on. I looked at my carrots and saw they were ripe for picking. My pristine soil has yielded a bumper crop of these tasty, orange wonders.

I began yanking carrots left and right and can't wait to throw them in the steamer Sunday. I will also blanch the rest of several giant zucchinis. I lost a bunch of tomatoes to blight.

But my carrots look just fine, thank you.

What a way to end a growing season that gave me one of the most spectacular gardens I have grown.

AUBURN - There is strong evidence that my vegetable plants have been using performance enhancing fertilizer.

My plants look like they have been juicing, and I would like to know where they got this illegal substance. 

There could be a huge scandal at 53 Valley Street, and the controversy could be comparable to the United States congress investigating Major League Baseball for steroid use

I might be forced to contact the proper authorities or go before a grand jury to testify against a bunch of vegetables that have given so much to me this summer.

There is no question my vegetables came across with the goods. 

I estimate, and this is no tall tale, I produced a bumper crop of 30 cucumbers, 30 summer squash, 20 zucchinis, a couple of hundred tomatoes, and I still haven't pulled my carrots. The broccoli and Swiss chard continues grow. I had about 300 blueberries because I trimmed them and offered words of encouragement.

But thanks to cool Maine nights and a drenching rain, my tomato plants have expired and everything has slowed down to a walk in my Garden of Eden. Right now, I still have Swiss chard, broccoli and carrots to pick until October. They are the hardiest plants in the fall.  I also had an abundance of pears and blue berries. 

Life was certainly sweet for gardeners in the Pine Tree State this season.

I have frozen about 20 pounds of summer squash and zucchini, and there is frozen tomato sauce lining the freezer in my refrigerator. 

I never fertilized my garden. The soil is that good. 

But I think there are two reasons why my garden was a success this season, and I swear by these two key ingredients.

I had plenty of wood ash to go around after my neighbor generously donated nearly 3,000 pounds for freshly cut ash.

After a bit a research, I was surprised to learn that wood ash in small amounts is beneficial to a vegetable garden. I began dumping the stuff on the garden throughout winter.

In the spring, I began spreading lush grass clippings and began using it to smother weeds around the plants, which took a lot of pressure off my back and knees.

But here's the deal when using my secret ingredients to nurturing a bountiful garden.

You can't burn crap in a wood stove and then apply its poison-ridden ash to an unsuspecting garden. And you can only use grass clippings if you didn't fertilizer your lawn.

Oh, and one more thing: Talk to your plants. Tell them you love them and want them to be good plants so that when they grow up, gardeners can be proud of them each growing season.

Look, gardening is a passion, and I enjoy eating vegetables that are not laced with pesticides. Besides, watching things grow alleviates stress in a world that is a mess for the moment.

Blanching the morning away; Hair we go

"You must give to get, You must sow the seed, before you can reap the harvest."
                                                                                                                                  -  Scott Reed

And there is more on the way.

AUBURN — When the blanching process was first explained to me, my thoughts turned to cryogenics and all those poor souls entombed in canisters like bags of frozen broccoli in an ice box.

Talk about freezer burn!

I didn't consider blanching vegetables for the winter until I extended the width of our garden this season. I was counting on a larger harvest, which seems to be coming to fruition. In the last few weeks, I have harvested nearly two dozen of summer squash, zucchini and cucumbers, and the vegetables keep on coming in spite of the persistent forces of Mother Nature. 

We just can't get enough of the green stuff that grows in my pristine soil.

Blanching vegetables is not a difficult process. You simply plunge fresh-picked vegetables into steaming water for several minutes, remove them and plunge them into ice water for another several minutes. The shocked vegetables are dried and packed into a freezer bag. Before you shove the bag in a freezer, the air must be sucked out of the bag with a straw to vacuum seal the contents.

This method of preserving vegetables keeps the stuff fresh for months.

A couple of mornings ago, Terri researched the art of blanching on the Net. She really did her homework because I was not in the "know" even though I am a master gardener.

She persuaded me to give it a try even though I wasn't sure if I had the patience to spend a morning freezing vegetables. But my stack of zucchini and summer squash was piling up on the kitchen counter, and I wasn't about to let it rot. I put too much time into a garden to watch my vegetables go bad.

We set up kind of a conveyor belt and agreed to work together. We got into a groove and completed the task in an hour.

I did all the cutting — because I am really good with a sharp knife — in the kitchen, off course. I sliced and diced nearly two dozen summer squash and zucchini in minutes without cutting off a finger.

The large steaming pot was in place and another pan of ice water was on stand-by

We lowered a pile of summer squash into the boiling pot and stared at the clock for three minutes.

Now I knew how Mission Control felt when the Apollo astronauts returned to earth after each mission. It was our first time out blanching and we were a bit apprehensive. 

We quickly scooped up the hot vegetables and dropped them in the freezing water and waited another five minutes.

Terri got the freezer bags ready after the vegetables cooled. She held each bag open and I tossed them inside, but before they were sealed, I stuck a straw in the bag and used my mighty lungs to suck out the air.

By the time we finished we had four huge freezer bags loaded with vegetables.

And the harvest will continue until October - weather permitting — of course.

Hair we go

Gimme head with hair
Long beautiful hair
Shining, gleaming,
Streaming, flaxen, waxen

- Hair, the musical

Whenever Terri announces she is getting a haircut, I usually don't get that excited. To me, getting a haircut is like brushing my teeth.

I do it because I don't like long hair. Some men can get away with long hair. I look ridiculous. And I am not a big fan of facial hair. Clean cut always works for me. It makes my hair more bouncy and manageable.

I know I would have never made it as a hippy. 

Over the years, Terri has tried many hairdos, and although I am biased, I never saw her with a bad haircut.

So when Terri returned from the haircutters, I had my usual comments ready when she presented herself.

"Well, what do you think," said Terri, just outside the door.

When I looked through the screen, I didn't move. My eyes snapped wide open and a devilish grin slowly appeared.


Her new-look was stunning.  The usual comments wouldn't work here.


"Oh wow," I said! "You look great."


The truth was she didn't look great. She looked unbelievable in her new do.


And my devilish grin still hasn't gone away.

Garden Party

 AUBURN, Maine — I'd rather reach for a rake or a shovel than a weapon when life goes awry.

People are killing each other over the lamest excuses, but I spend hours growing a garden and watching my son mature into a fine young man each summer.

When I am angry, I get down and dirty with a hoe, worms, spiders, and a handful of seeds. I experience paradise when I tune into a Boston Red Sox game on the radio while I weed the garden. Life doesn't get any better on a warm summer day - especially when Boston is beating up the Yankees.

Growing vegetables is no longer a pastime. It has become a necessity thanks to rising fuel prices and shrinking natural resources. Buying food means taking out a short-term loan every week, and if you are trying to eat healthy, I hope your wallet is filled with cash. And if you don't munch on the right foods, doctors don't mind taking your money as you battle obesity.

The world is upside down, our leaders no longer lead, and people ignore each other as they bang out useless texts on their overused cell phones.

We've gone to hell in a hand basket, but there has been one constant through the years - gardening. The nation is ruled by it like an army of empty stomachs.

The garden is my refuge. All this patch of earth demands is water, natural fertilizer and a great deal of tender loving care. And what do you get from all this dirt? Big, beautiful vegetables free of chemicals. If you have a big yard, dig up a slice of it and plant vegetables. Life will be easier at the cash register and your health will only improve.

And your pallet and stomach will thank you for it.

While May was a cruel month thanks to eight days of cold rain, summer turned the corner when June arrived. I planted the last day of May, which is traditional in central Maine. The ground is no longer cold, the sun is stronger and there is less of threat of a late frost - a garden's arch-enemy. It's been known to happen here in the hinterlands.

I watch this annual experiment in my backyard take root as the warm sun strengthens my yearlings. I add natural fertilizer around each plant to give my vegetables a boost - and then I cross my fingers and think of one the greatest gardeners in the world - my grandfather - who arrived in the United States in 1904 from the old country - Italy. His tomatoes were second to none and my grandmother made an excellent pasta sauce out of the fruits of his labor.

It is late June and I am already consuming freshly grown lettuce. I planted 18 heads of the green stuff and it is doing well. I have two apple and cherry trees blooming and raspberries, blue berries, and grapes are ripening on the vine.

The lettuce is way out in front, but now my other vegetables are catching up as July makes its warm and welcomed approach. My cucumbers (I had one casualty) are crawling along the ground and my tomatoes (one KIA) are inching up through their iron cages. My zucchini and summer squash are blooming and it won't be long before they see the inside of my skillet. Broccoli is a picture of health and my carrots (I planted them by seed) have burst through the soil. I am now waiting on my melons and cauliflower to make an appearance.

I eagerly await for all my vegetables to come to fruition because you can't buy produce that is pesticide free - and there are vegetable casseroles to be made in my kitchen.

So stay away from the dollar menu and burn off a few pounds raising a garden. Your digestive track will be grateful and you keep doctors at arms length.