Winter wonderland

This is what December in central Indiana is supposed to look like: blanketed in white, perfect snow. We sure got it this week!

In the last four days, two storms have dropped a total of about 12 inches of snow on my neighborhood. The first consisted of heavy, thick snow that the family across the street used to make an impressive igloo/fort. The second fell last night in big, fluffy, light flakes that settled gently on everything, with no wind to disturb it.

Not long after daybreak this morning, I took my camera out for a little trip around the yard. Few people were stirring, and the snow plows hadn't come through yet—so the neighborhood was beautiful, still, and the muffled quiet that we only experience with the insulation of snow.

A perfect winter wonderland!

Come January 2, though, I'll be ready for it to be 75°F and sunny again!

Road trip with my grandparents—and a new understanding of family

Royal and high-ranking families around the world keep painstakingly accurate records that preserve their ancestry and chart their lineage. The records document thousands of years of history and are worth safeguarding forever.

But if you’re not a member of one of those prestigious and few families, chances are the best knowledge you have today of your ancestors dates back just a few generations at most. That’s the case, for me, on the paternal side of my family. But the maternal side? It’s an entirely different—and amazing—story.

One of my second cousins on my mom’s side of the family, along with his wife, has spent years charting the Halcomb/Cobb family. They’ve traveled around the country tracking down leads, visiting libraries, monasteries and historical centers, all in the pursuit of documenting our family’s story.

It’s truly incredible. They’ve traced our roots all the way to William I, more commonly known as William the Conqueror, who was the first Norman King of England from 1066 to 1087.

I can hardly wrap my mind around it!

This past weekend, I took a road trip with my mom and grandparents to the Cobb family reunion in southeastern Kentucky. The reunion is held every year, but this was the first time I’ve been able to make it.

It’s something that’s very important to Grandpa, who will celebrate his 92nd birthday this month. While he speaks with many of these family members on a weekly or monthly basis on the phone, this annual reunion is generally the only time he sees many of them in person.

I’ve known that family and the associated gatherings are important to him, but it really wasn’t until recently that I realized just how important it is. Part of it is a generational difference, I believe, but it’s also a testament to the region where he grew up.

One of the sites I was most interested to visit on this trip was the old house where he spent much of his youth. The house—that he built himself—is still standing, structurally sound, and looks like it could be liveable with some TLC. The house is nestled in a valley (or “holler,” to use the regional lingo) alongside two barns, one tobacco, one livestock—that he also built himself—and is only accessible by an off-road vehicle with four-wheel drive.

Just around the corner from the house, a little farther down the one-lane, gravel "Bull Creek" road, is the family cemetery, which was our second stop. Cemeteries generally don’t mean much to me. I find it interesting to see especially old dates on headstones, but my interest usually ends there. But in visiting this cemetery last weekend, it did help me see how important it is to Grandpa, as well as the rest of the family who still live in the area. The graves are maintained by family members themselves, who take up a collection at the reunion each year to help pay for the mower’s gasoline and the flowers. My great-grandparents are buried there, along with dozens of other family members.

(It also helped me understand why Grandpa wanted to show me his own burial plot and headstone a month ago. It’s ready and waiting for him—all it needs is the death date and the actual burial. I found the experience weird and unsettling, but I could tell it was significant to him.)

The following day, the actual reunion didn’t start until 11:00, so we drove to the Cumberland Gap. We spent some time wandering outside and inside the Visitor’s Center, which included a small museum that documented the importance of this pass through the Appalachian Mountains. Daniel Boone helped to widen the trail through the Gap in 1775, making the passage to Kentucky and Tennessee easier for settlers to manage. Today you can drive through it via a ¾-mile tunnel.

(I should say that I actually spent most of my time at the Visitor’s Center wandering through the Southern Highlands Craft Guild’s store. That alone was worth the stop.)

At the reunion lunch, Grandpa was more social than I’ve ever seen him, and he made a point to work his way around the room talking to various people. He’s a revered figurehead in this family, known and respected by multiple generations. Several men and boys of the family are actually named after him.

To me, he’s always been Grandpa: honored WWII vet, skilled woodworker, sports enthusiast. But to the family in Kentucky, he’s the man who quit college to move home and help his mother after his father lost his eyesight. He’s the man who built his family’s house and barns. He’s the man who essentially raised his nephew when the boy’s parents proved to be incapable. He’s the patriarch. They’ve known him for decades longer than I have, and since he’s someone who doesn’t talk much about his life (without determined probing), I saw a side of him I never had before.

He may be days from his 92nd birthday, but his mind is still sharp as can be. It made me happy to know I made him happy by going to the reunion. I’d had the feeling that it was something I really needed to do, and I’m glad I got the chance to make the trip.

Petoskey stones and mushroom houses in Charlevoix

I was the Rock Girl when I was a kid.

Not rock 'n' roll. Rocks, the ones you find on the ground.

I loved them, collected them, bought them, searched for them... it was an endless fascination for me. I really shouldn't be saying that in the past tense, though, because it's essentially still true: when I visit a bead shop and comb through the options for making new jewelry for myself, it's the stones and gemstones that grab my attention. Sparkly? Nah. Clay? I'll pass. Give me the rocks!

I think I bought a little drawstring bag of polished stones on every family vacation we took. I found one trip especially cool when we visited Yellowstone: We found a store outside the park that had a promotion in the store that lured you to buy a bag of uncleaned stones, sort through them in their pan-for-gold-in-the-water setup, and have the chance to find raw semiprecious stones.

I still have that bag of rocks.

I no longer keep a box of ordinary (but each with an interesting feature, of course!) rocks under my bed, but I'm still drawn to beautiful rocks.

The Petoskey area of Michigan is famous for a particular fossil-stone that washes up along the shores of Lake Michigan. On our trip to Michigan last week, Mom and I planned a visit to Petoskey (about two hours north of Traverse City) and Charlevoix and included some time combing through the shores.

Unfortunately, the weather gods over Petoskey gave us a 55-degree day with rain, fog, and 20+ mph winds.

Call me a wimp, but those aren't exactly the conditions that make me want to stand barefoot in the water and look for rocks.

I was brave enough to get out and get some photos, though, and I did come home with a (small) bag of pretty, smooth bleached-white stones.

Thankfully, by the time we got to Charlevoix, the skies cleared and the temperature climbed above 60 degrees. It was a photo of Charlevoix in a Michigan travel magazine (a photo taken in the exact spot as the one below) that had convinced us to take this trip, so we were both looking forward to visiting the town and checking out the local shops.

We were honestly a little disappointed. The number of shops was relatively small, and it seemed as though there really wasn't much to see or do in Charlevoix unless you had a boat and wanted to just sit along the water's edge. (And believe me, there were some nice boats around town!)

Not many people were on the beach that day, though we did see some impressively hardy souls sunning themselves on their yachts or balconies. Mom and I, on the other hand, had our jackets and sweatshirts zipped up to our chins.

The part of the town we found most interesting were the Earl Young homes. Earl Young was an architect in the first half of the twentieth century who made his mark by designing stone houses that are fondly called "mushroom houses" or "fairy houses", or more recently, "Hobbit houses." We found a rough map online and walked around town to see some of these interesting homes.

Most of them have curved, sloping roofs with cedar-shake shingles and chimneys that appear to be topped with dripping icing. Some are tiny, some are huge, and I'd have loved to have a chance to see inside one! Here are four of the ones we found:

As interesting as it would be to live in one of these homes, I don't think I'd ever want to live in a house that enticed people to constantly walk or drive by and take pictures. I like space, peace, quiet and privacy a little too much.

What about you -- would you live in an architecturally interesting house that drew attention like this?

Petoskey on Dwellable

Unexpected garden visitors

Four-legged visitors are usually unwelcome guests in a garden, but I have one that I have to admit I'm enjoying having around.

I've started my first herb garden this year, in pots on my deck. I'm growing oregano, basil, flat-leaf parsley, and cilantro. I tried starting some from seeds indoors, but I've since learned that my house just doesn't quite get enough light to nurture hearty growth. The basil was the only start worth keeping.

Seeds are cheap, though, and it was a fun learning experience, even if it essentially failed. I got a start of oregano from my aunt's massive plant, and I bought new basil, cilantro and parsley plants at area farmer's markets and garden centers. The still-living basil starts got transplanted into a couple pots (which, if they all take off, will end up giving me enough basil to last for about five years).

Not 48 hours after I'd potted all my herbs and settled them into their new homes on my deck, I noticed that something had been digging in the dirt around the cilantro. Thinking, at first, that it was a chipmunk (grrr), I was pleasantly surprised when I went to water the plants the next day and discovered what it was: a toad! He was buried in the dirt up to his eyeballs. It didn't look like he'd disturbed the roots, though, so I left him alone (hoping he'd feast on more than his share of mosquitoes).

After some further research into how much sunlight each plant enjoys, I shifted the pots around to better maximize the sunlight in this space. It seemed to have disturbed my toad, though, because I didn't see him again for a week or so (and he'd been nestled into his cilantro home each morning and evening).


Not to fear, though, because apparently it takes more than that to scare my toad away from his new home. Tonight, I got home from a bike ride and found him in a new pot -- a pot that is essentially in the same place as his old cilantro home.

And he'd brought a friend. Don't they look cozy?

He probably feels like he's been downsized, since this pot is in the same place, and it's smaller than the previous one. Unfortunately this couple has now definitely disturbed the roots of my basil seedlings... but since I have two others doing fine, I'm thinking I'll just leave them be.

My other surprise find tonight was this:

It's a squash plant. Growing in my compost heap. And I did not plant it there on purpose.

Actually, let me clarify: it's closer to 50 squash plants growing in my compost heap.

I'm not sure what it is yet, but it's blooming! I tossed some gourds out there at the end of last fall, so we'll see if that's the winner! Last year I found a bundle of tomato plants in this same spot.

This may be the easiest kind of gardening around.

154/365 Newness: pencil erasers

Buying these made me feel like a kid again, shopping for school supplies in August. I loved that time of year! Fresh pencils, new erasers, perfect white notebook paper, untouched crayons of every shade... makes me want to run to Office Depot now and go on a shopping spree.

I was helping Mom to clean out my parents' basement this weekend, and we were particularly focusing on my old college and kid's-room randomness that is still there. We ran across a stash of my old notebooks (which I had a lot of, as an office supply-obsessed child/teenager/person), and you never quite know what you'll find when you open the cover!

Take, for instance, a notebook started (yes, I dated it) during my freshman year of high school. I only made it through making seven lists before I quit (pathetic!), but the ones I did get done are hilarious. Mom was laughing so hard she could hardly stand up. Care for a couple samples of the mind of this 14-year-old girl?

Things I Require in my Husband
Courtesy
Courage
Initiative
Intelligence
Ability
Resourceful
Imagination
A great smile
Friendliness
Respect
Honesty
Values like mine

It's funny to see what my priorities -- ahem, requirements -- were at 14! I must have had marriage on the brain, because there's another list along the same lines:

Things to Remember When I'm Married
I will NEVER put my children in daycare.
I will NEVER cuss (say bad words to) at my children or around them.
Fighting is normal in a relationship. The key is resolving and moving on.

Wise words from someone not old enough to drive yet, ha!

Camera: Canon 40D with 60mm macro lens and 430EX Speedlite, 1/125s, f/2.8 at ISO 640

145/365 Tired: bedtime

Do you remember the day when your opinion of bedtime changed from a child's "I'm not tired! I don't want to go to bed!" to an adult's "God, I'm tired, when is it time to go to bed?" I don't remember that subconscious switch being flipped for me, but I'm sure it happened somewhere along the line!

As much as I would love to get eight hours of sleep every night, I can never seem to get to bed before 10:15 or 10:30 every night. I'm always busy doing something around the house, doing something online, doing something that I don't stop doing until 10:00.

At the end of last year, my office offered all of us the opportunity to try flex time. The caveat was that we had to choose our schedule by a certain date and then stick with it for the next year. The options for Tuesday through Friday were 7-4, 8-5, or 9-6. Starting work an hour later didn't appeal to me in the least. Starting earlier and heading home an hour earlier was more tempting. But honestly, the reason I chose to stick with the standard 8-5 schedule all week was sleep: I knew it was very unlikely that I'd be able to get to bed early enough (by 9:30) to be able to get up an hour earlier.

So 10:30 it is. Bedtime as usual.


Camera: Canon 40D, 1/20s, f/4 at ISO 1600

135/365 Mouse in the house

I've reached a milestone that I didn't realize existed: I've encountered my first mouse inside the house.

I'd rather have continued living in peace without reaching this milestone, but I suppose it's bound to happen, right?

I found the evidence first in the drawer under my oven where I store baking pans, of all places. I went to pull out a baking sheet and found scraps of shredded paper towel that I knew hadn't been there a few days earlier!

So, after a thorough washing of all those pans, the hunt was on! First task: buy traps. I chose the old-fashioned spring-trap method primarily because I didn't want it to eat poison then curl up and die somewhere where I couldn't remove it -- which inevitably would have made the entire house smell for days. Yuck.

Bait: peanut butter.

I set two traps to start, hoping that I was hunting just one mouse and not multiples. [I know from personal experience, having had pet mice as a kid, that when girl mouse meets boy mouse and they fall in love, babies come by the dozen -- and very quickly!]

After the first night, I checked the traps and soon learned that I had a crafty mouse on my hands: the traps were licked clean, peanut butter gone, and the traps still set.

Darn it!

I reloaded the bait, set a third trap, went to work, and found a repeat of the same scene when I got home. Three clean traps, all still set.

Darn it again!

This continued through the next morning. At this point, I felt as though I was just giving the mouse a nice meal of high-quality protein. What I hoped was that he'd start getting sloppy. Get lazy, don't be so careful, and be a little less gentle when prying that peanut butter off the bait paddle. After work on the third day, I stopped at Lowe's and got two new kinds of traps. Perhaps it just required a different weapon? Perhaps my cheap traps from Dollar General weren't sensitive enough?

What happened next was exactly what I expected: I got home from my Lowe's run, and wouldn't you know it but one of my original traps had finally worked. He got sloppy. Success!

I've left some baited traps set in the kitchen just to make sure there wasn't more than one, and the coast looks clear. I now have seven mouse traps -- of three different designs -- ready to go for the next time.

Camera: Canon 40D with 60mm macro lens and 430EX Speedlite, 1/125s, f/4 at ISO 320

129/365 Playing squirrels

My yard is a playground for squirrels. While watching these two, I learned that the trees are close enough that they can jump from one to the next without touching the ground.

I started watching them through one window on the north side of my house. I grabbed my camera, waiting for them to chase each other back to my visible side of the tree, but they disappeared. It wasn't until I saw their shadows that I realized they had made it to a tree two away from where they were.

How cool would it be to have the trees be your playground like that? To not have to return to the ground unless you needed to, and to have the confidence to leap from one (small!) branch to the next.

They looked like they were having great fun, but I wished they'd hang out a little closer so I could photograph them some more!

Camera: Canon 40D with 70-300mm IS lens, 1/250s, f/8 at ISO 100 at about 12:00 p.m.

122/365 Saying goodbye to fall

I'm pulling out my Christmas decorations this weekend, which means it's time to say goodbye to the gourds that have been gracing my bookcase for the last couple of months.

I got these from a couple of older women who were selling gobs of gourds at a roadside stand in their front yard. They had varieties of gourds that I've never seen or heard of, so I really had fun sorting through them and buying a bag full to take home with me.

The green and orange variety on the left always makes me remember getting them as a kid, because when they dried out, you could shake them and hear the seeds rattle inside.

These met a less musical end:  fodder for my garden's compost heap!

Camera: Canon 40D with 60mm macro lens and 430EX Speedlite, 1/60s, f/2.8 at ISO 200

119/365 Sunset in the tree tunnel

It's been much too long since I posted for you! Let's fix that pronto!

I've always loved this tree tunnel, which is usually the final landmark before arriving at Mom and Dad's house. You may recognize it from some past posts -- such as this one, in which I mention how it reminds me of a scene from Batman, and this one, with a photo taken last fall. It feels like you're making a grand entrance after you emerge from the tunnel, or you're venturing through a doorway only to discover something great on the other side. Perhaps it's like a nature-created special effect!

Do you have a landmark that you take note of every time you so somewhere, especially somewhere you enjoy being?

Camera: Canon 40D, 1/125s, f/5.6 at ISO 200 at about 5:30 p.m.

111/365 Feeding the local wildlife

Isn't the rule generally that you're not supposed to feed wild animals? Well, Dad and Chase have been feeding this wild animal for quite a while. Grasshoppers, crickets, etc. She seems to like it.

And of course, they like seeing her wrap and devour the unsuspecting critters.

They haven't suffered any negative backlash as a result of their interference, so I guess they're safe. This time.

We've always (affectionately?) referred to these spiders at home as Golden Ladies, though I believe they're generally known as a much more boring "common garden spider." Apparently they're harmless to humans, but I'll keep my fingers and toes out of reach just in case. I'll leave the feedings to the boys.


Camera: Canon 40D, 1/125s, f/4.5 at ISO 1000 in shade at about 6:00 p.m.

96/365 Front-porch entertainment

When you live way out in the country, entertainment seen from your front porch is limited. Because of that, the annual 10K run that passes my parents' house is quite exciting!

I'm not a runner, though I've tried to be (several times). My knees and joints just don't like the high-impact aspects of running, so I've finally accepted the fact that I'm destined to be a walker and/or biker for the rest of my life.

Knowing that running can be a grueling sport, I admire people who train for races -- like 10Ks -- and finish. It takes time, dedication, motivation, perseverance... you name it. Not everyone can do it, me included.

It's easy to admire the winners of these races, but I have a lot of respect for the people who come in last, too. Mentally, that's not the easiest place to be in. In this particular race, an ambulance follows the runners, trailing about 30 feet behind the final person. So that person ends up running or walking the whole race with the sound of a diesel engine pushing them from behind the whole time. I don't think that's a sound many people would want to program into their iPods as a constant for 6.2 miles.

Would you?


Camera: Canon 40D with 70-300mm IS lens, 1/200s, f/5.6 at ISO 100 at about 8:30 a.m.

95/365 Horses at Old Fashioned Days

Would a festival called "Old Fashioned Days" be complete if it didn't include horses? Not in my book!

On Labor Day weekend, Sunday night's festivities always feature a horse pull, which has been preceded in recent years by a horse-riding demonstration. Chase has ridden in the demonstration a couple times, but this year, some other riders took a turn.

The photo above, taken during the demonstration, didn't capture a dramatic action sequence, but rather another side of horseback riding that I always enjoy seeing: a relationship between a rider and his or her horse.

If you've never been to a horse pull, it's really an interesting competition that requires a lot of practice and training. Two draft horses are harnessed together and work as a team to pull a sled carrying tons of weight. Literally tons. The team that won this year's event pulled 10,500 pounds of weight. Isn't that incredible?

The horses are "driven" by one person walking behind them, usually the owner, who holds the reins and is the only person allowed to speak to the horses and encourage them during the pull. Two other people walk with him and are responsible for hooking the horses up to the weighted sled. The horses have loads of adrenaline before they pull, so they're ready to dig in as soon as they get lined up. It's very common for them to miss the hookup the first time in their excitement. In the photo below, the guy in the red shirt has just connected the horses to the sled and is jumping out of the way as they start pulling.

As we watched this year's pull, Mom and I commented on the fact that this definitely seems to be an older-man's sport. A couple drivers/owners were in their 40s or 50s, but they were the youngest of the group. One driver was in his 80s.

I usually only make it to this one horse pull each year, but I like having it be part of my Labor Day weekend's activities!

Camera: Canon 40D with 70-300mm IS lens, 1/400s and 1/200s, f/5.6 at ISO 100 between 5:00 and 8:00 p.m.

94/365 Antique tractors on parade

Labor Day weekend wouldn't feel complete without Old Fashioned Days, my hometown's annual festival.

One of the features of the weekend is the county's largest parade, and it earns that distinction largely because of the sheer volume of antique tractors that make an appearance. You'd be hard-pressed to see more tractors in one place anywhere else. 

Chase drove a tractor in the parade this year, so Mom and I went early to get a good seat and embarrass him by taking lots of photos.

Antique tractors have a very distinctive sound, and as I sat listening to their rhythm as they drove past, I realized that the sound is one that I've really grown to enjoy. I wouldn't necessarily call it exciting, but it definitely evokes a lot of fond, familiar memories for me. It's a sound that I associate with the end of summer and the beginning of fall -- Labor Day weekend itself.

Now I'm ready for apple cider and pumpkins!

Camera: Canon 40D, 1/640s, f/4 at ISO 100 at about 11:45 a.m.

88/365 After the tree has fallen

The mighty tree has fallen!

The huge maple tree that has reigned over my backyard for the past who-knows-how-many decades has met its match, all in the course of a single day. It's amazing how different the space -- both land and air -- looks without that tree. The sunlight coming in through my kitchen window is now completely unfiltered, which I don't mind at all.

Cleanup in the spring and autumn, when the helicopters and leaves fall, will be monumentally easier without this tree. That's mainly just an annoyance, though, compared to the interference the tree caused with the house's plumbing.

Aesthetically, I think the house looked better with the tree intact. Cozier.

I'll guess I'll just have to find a new way to dress up the place!

Camera: Canon 40D with 24mm wide-angle lens, 1/125s, f/5.6 and f/2.8 at ISO 250 at about 7:00 p.m.

87/365 Timber!

Big changes are happening in my backyard. This is a 'before' shot.

The 'after' shot, coming in the next post, will not include this tree.

While I hate to see any large tree disappear, this one has caused some serious problems. It was just planted in the wrong place at the wrong time.

As you can see, the deck has been built around it, which begins to give you a clue about how close it is to the house. It's only about 15 feet from the back door. While it's been great about providing shade, its activity underground has been the root of my house's septic problems.

Pun intended.

The unfortunate news is that if the tree itself doesn't disappear, then the plumbing issues will only continue. It's a huge job that has to be handled by a professional tree removal service, but it needs to be done.

So we'll take a moment to applaud the long, strong life it's had and begin planning on where to plant a new tree to take its place. And that place will be much farther away from the house!


Camera: Canon 40D with 24mm wide-angle lens, 1/125s, f/4 at ISO 200 at about 9:00 a.m.

82/365 Homemade jam

We have a saying in my family: "We're not normal."

It's true. And we embrace it.

We often use it as a way to remind ourselves that the way we do things may not be the norm, so be conscious of your expectations for other people.

Take summertime, for instance: Sounds of summer for me include the pinging of shelled peas as they fall into a metal bowl (before being frozen), and the rattling of a pressure cooker on the stove (storing green beans). My family has always grown a large garden, and Mom stores a lot of food for the winter. It takes work, and it's a dying art in a lot of ways. I realize it's not the norm. But I sure do love it!

The latest item to be preserved this year is homemade jam, made from concord grapes grown at home.
Because I'm used to having a reserve of home-grown and -made jam, it feels... wrong... to buy jam. It helps if it's from a local producer, but I still feel a bit like I'm committing a crime when I buy jam.

It's not normal.

Camera: Canon 40D with 60mm macro lens, 1/250s, f/4 at ISO 100 in direct sunlight by a window at about 5:15 p.m.

73/365 Excavating

It seems like I've been hauling my laundry around for eight years straight.

It's not true, and is an exaggeration, but sometimes it seems that way! While I was in college, I took my laundry home with me on Sundays and did it there, rather than at the dorm or sorority house. It was cheaper, I didn't have to fight for an unreliable machine, and I (best of all) got to see my family.

When I moved into my house, it took us a while to find and buy a washer and dryer that would fit in my teeny space -- which meant hauling my laundry to Mom and Dad's to do every weekend.

Then I had a couple months of relative ease with my own washer and dryer.

But then, one day this past winter, the septic system backed up. Oh, the joy, if you've never had that happen! We discovered that there were tree roots growing inside the pipes of the septic system in my yard. We had the pipe from the house to the tank roto-rootered, but it didn't fix the problem.

So it was back to hauling my laundry to Mom and Dad's, until we could have an excavator come out to the house and do a bigger fix on the situation. That day finally came last Saturday!

Chase (pictured above, once again demonstrating his amazing skill with machinery) and Brent Sellers, of Sellers Excavating, tore into the backyard and figured out the problem. The good news is that we think they've fixed it (knock on wood!), and it should last for at least 10 years. They cleared out more tree roots from the finger system and replaced a clay section of pipe with PVC. We feared the problem would be bigger than that, so we're all relieved.

So, Saturday night, I happily did laundry in my own house. It was marvelous! Big round of applause to Chase and Brent for saving the day.

Camera: Canon 40D, 1/400s, f/4 at ISO 100 at about 9:00 a.m.

38/365 How does my garden grow

I have a garden! Dad and I spent a beautiful afternoon getting it in, and I'm awfully excited about it. I made sure to get before and after photos, which you see here.

I had a small garden last year in a different location that didn't work out so well. From four tomato plants, I reaped about six tomatoes, and they were still attempting to ripen at Thanksgiving. And my cucumber plant's lone cucumber never did mature. The spot was too shady and the dirt in too poor condition. So this year: relocate!

Being surrounded by large maple trees, my yard is largely shaded. Great for the electricity bill, not so great for growing plants. So we chose to put the garden on the south side of my garage, in the one area of the backyard that gets some substantial sun.

The roof of the garage doesn't have gutters, so we also had to take that into consideration and put the plants outside of the drip line. We bought five bags of organic top soil, because we expected the soil to be in starved condition -- but, lo and behold, when we tilled it up, it looked fantastic! I have two bags of top soil left over that I'll have to share somewhere else in the yard.

I now have six lovely plants growing in my garden: two Better Boy tomatoes, one cherry tomato, one cucumber, one red pepper, and one jalapeno. Add three marigolds for bug control, and voila! Six plants doesn't sound like much, but with a good location and plenty of room to stretch out, I expect they'll produce plenty of fresh vegetables for me.

I also didn't want to get in over my head this first year. If all goes well this year, look out 2011!

Camera: Canon 40D
Before photo: 1/250s, f/5.6 at ISO 100 at about 11:00 a.m.
After photo: 1/125s, f/5.6 at ISO 200 at about 5:30 p.m.

36/365 Cooky neighbors

Come nightfall, one house in my neighborhood stands out. During the day, it masquerades as an ordinary ranch-style house nestled in a well-established neighborhood.

But when the sun sets, it looks like a small airport.

These neighbors have accent lighting focused on every. Single. Tree. And Bush. And Rock. And window around the house. Seriously. Their electricity bill must be astronomical. The patriarch of the family has also boasted about their highly sophisticated video security system.

And all that makes me wonder is: what the heck do you have in there? Because while the house is very nice, it's nothing special, or large, or fancy. It's just an ordinary home. An ordinary home that doesn't normally require that kind of security.

The mystery-novel reader in me wonders what's going on behind those closed doors.

Camera: Canon 40D, 10 seconds, f/5.6 at ISO 100 at about 9:30 p.m.