What are you putting in your mouth?? A gardening tip

It seems the evening news is blasted with food-gone-bad stories. It makes you wonder what is not only going into your mouth, but into your stomach and liver and muscles. Well this year, being the alarmist I am, I quadrupled my garden . Now is not the time to be handing out garden tips, because it's getting pretty late to put stuff in, but here are some tips that I recently learned.

1 You can grow sprouts all year long. Of course I always knew that but I just found out how delightful radish sprouts are. You sprout them like any other between two sheets of paper towel or in a jar. They are tingly and hot just like the rest. Just google growing sprouts, and you will find endless ways to grow your own and add some real healthy tidbits to your diet during the winter months.

2. You can plant next years spinach just before the big freeze (for those of us who live where it snows each year.) Plant as usual and mulch heavy with straw, then next spring you will have a splendidly early crop of spinach.

3. Did you know that those nasty peach and apricot pits have little seeds inside that are actually good for you. They taste like well, not good, and makes you pucker and want to spit them out, but my daughter-in-law found that info on the internet also. Do the keystrokes and see for yourself.

Well happy gardening, and wash those fruits and vegetables before you put them into your mouth. Even bananas before you peel them and melons before you cut through them.

That's all right this second. Just wanted to pass it on

I love winter, what's not to love...

More Than One Way to Die, part IV Orphan Moose

I realize this is not a very glamorous subject to write or read about but animals rescued from the wild are not all fairy-tale features. Those individuals having the revered interest and opportunity to take part in saving lives deserve to be told the whole story. And sadly, this is one of those chapters.

.....Baby had been grooming herself excessively. I never knew moose were such clean creatures. She is a veritable yoga guru elongating her neck to stroke bony shoulders with a thick muscled tongue that darts in and out with snake-like precision. Hind legs extend forward with flexibility of a gymnast to appease her forehead. I watched and wondered at this sprucing up ritual. Once I observed her curl velvety lips back to open passage for teeth and savagely rip out a tuft of brittle hair from her whithers. I thought this odd and jotted a note in my journal as a sign of orphan oddities. Curiosity compelled me to research this obsessive behavior. Inscesent grooming could be a comfort practice I imagined. She was without the reassurance of an adult and needed consolation
......How wrong surface impressions can be. Another barbaric act of nature had reared its hideous head. Baby was covered with reddish-gray blobs of blood-sucking ticks over one-fourth of her tiny body. We had no way of telling how many lay burrowed beneath the hide but there were an observable 30-50 exposed on patches of bare skin. Baby's concentrated grooming tactics were on-going labors to purge these blood-sucking demons from her flesh. A species called Dermacentor Albipictus or winter Ticks. *

.....Winter ticks kill. They cause blood loss, itching, inflammation and skin ulcerations. Ticks winter over in moose as well as deer and elk. Animals become infested in late summer to early autumn when they contact lumps of tick larvae on tips of vegetation.* By November ticks molt to nymphs and in January begin feeding. They peak in mid-February and molt into adults.* (Mid-February was when we first noticed the largest ones on her rump.) Numbers peak in late March through April and all drop off by mid-May.* The moose can live tick free until late summer when the cycle starts over again.* Winter ticks however are most prevalent south of 60 degrees latitude.* When winters are as horrid as the ones we have been battling, food is meager and vital protective fur drops off due to tick infestation. Malnutrition and exposure are the bold indisputable signatures found on their death certificates.

...What would be our course of action given this new information? Only what is within our power; extra food, more attention and greater love. We boosted Baby's intake of deer feed adding cracked corn. Coincidence or cure we aren't sure, but within a week we started finding dead ticks in the driveway, on the ground around her bed and on our back porch some as large as grapes. The land leeches were falling off as Baby sustained her grooming routine with vengeance. Innovation sparked new ways to rid her body of these hostile pests. She utilized the hoods of our vehicles by rubbing her chest and cheeks insatiably back and forth across the fenders and grills crushing ticks to death. I want to believe the warmth from those engines also allowed her a brief respite from the agony. All though these types of ticks do not prefer human hosts * it is a constant sanitation effort around our abode. But how reassuring to see gentle tufts of hair growing back over the ravaged skin.

.....I know without a doubt had we not intervened in the salvation of this immature moose we all would have discovered there is more than one way to die out here. I trust that with our continued efforts Baby will live to create the next generation.

Playing llfe by ear ... No regrets eh?

I'm getting anxious. My findernails are nubs, I've gained too much winter weight and I'm tired of my own cooking. As much as I love the snow and how beautiful it is and how much fun it is to play in and shovel, and plow and mop up off the floors, I am really getting cabin fever. So today I begin planning our summer sabatical. From the Redwood Forests to the Inside Passage, a long, lean ride of a lifetime. I'm talking three-wheelin it. I have a classic 1988 Goldwing 1500 with a Motor Trike conversion on it and I Loooove my hot ride. There is so much more to experience straddling a leather seat; wind in my hair, bugs on my windshield, rain in my face and all those other motorcyle cliches. They are all true by the way.
..... However, I feel there needs to be a theme to guide us. How insane would it be just to hit the open road and play life by ear? Last year it was National Parks, I love our National Parks. I feel we need to enjoy them while they last because they are not always going to be there. What else isn't going to be here in ten or thirty years that I will regret not seeing if I don't go?
.....Twelve weeks and counting, who else would like to go or ride along the way?

Solitude or Sanctuary? Orphan Moose Part III

We have named her Baby. We watch her lumber through chest deep snow, she travels with deliberate energy-saving steps. Another blizzard hit last night at our Pacific Northwest homestead adding two more feet of freezing snow to our all ready seven foot drifts. On clear days Baby roams about the neighborhood. On blustery days she huddles beneath a large doug fir fifty feet from our back door. Here she has hallowed out a resting spot in the snow next to her feeding station and salt block. I can capture her moods and moves from my bathroom window or back porch without invading her space.

...Experts say that moose are solitary, individualistic animals desiring privacy and space. But I wonder if this orphan feels the same way. She pops into view when our truck comes down the driveway, she makes the local deer and magpies her friends and she always finds the way to her bed by sunset. As an orphan, is the inherited desire for solitude overpowered by the need for sanctuary? Of all the studies on can do on moose behavior, I don't imagine they have one that measures desire or emotion beyond sexual activity. Maybe it is only important ot me. So let it be known that the remarks I make here are strictly my own observations and commentary influenced by my own feelings and emotions.

....I believe emotions are practiced by all creatures. I have observed what appears to be contention, curiosity and concern revealed in her walk, her gaze and the twitching of her ears. Laid back the ears have been known to mean don't-get-to-close, but it could also mean she is listening for sounds from behind.* Cocked forward the ears are in position to alert her to signals that lie ahead; couriousity or cautionary. The ears outwardly erect fro her body have been known to be an expression of concentration and more intent listening.* Ears pointed down and laid back is a display of attack or merely listening to sound from below.* I always honor the 'display of attack' message just to be on the safe side.

.....She flips her fuzzy infant ears forward when she sees Marti serving her morning meal. She prances about slipping on icy paths conflicted between the need to eat and an entrenched fitght or flight response. When we are out of sight she ambles between vehicles, even wanders onto the porch because she can smell the apple box. Curiosity, I believe, has helped her expand a confort zone around us and our abode. However she remains alert and anxious keeping a respectable distance when we share the same ground. I am glad to see this morsel of fear smoldering beneath the surface. That fear will help insure a longer adult life for her after she leaves us. Till then I will do my part to make her feel safe and independent. I will sustain an enviornment where she is comfortable and adored and we both can spend some quality time trying to figure out the importance of solitude and sanctuary.

*Ecology and Management of the North Amerian Moose, Wildlife Management Institute, Compiled and edited by Albert Franzman and Charles Schwartz

An Orphan Called Chapter One/ Part Two/ Starvation, Not an Option

.....This past week CO has tolerated freezing 40 mile per hour wind gusts with snow pelting her eyes and nostrils as she tries to eat. She has endured forced exertion wading through belly deep powder; consuming life dependent calories. I couldn't sit back and watch her waste away. We took action; I've been a mom too long not to do something. The choices we are making now will determine the quality of the rest of her life. To not eat even for a few days will debilitate her physically as a calf and within the next 16-24 months as a fit breeding cow. If and when she breeds her offspring could suffer frail physiology as well.* We purchased two bales of grass alfalfa hay, sweet to the smell and deep green with nutrients. CO's first reaction to this alien chow was to bed down in it. But it's her body and I trust she knows best. Later I spied her nibbling on the grassy stems but bedding still appeared to be preferred. I have since learned that grasses only make up 2% of a moose's diet.* We then purchased a bag of "deer chow" from the farm store that contained fiber, fat and priceless proteins. Her first feeding was the next morning after my husband, Marti, had started his van to go to work. She sniffed the fragrant pellets that we measured into a large bowl and shoved firmly into the snow next to her bed. We felt the pellets migh be difficut for her to scoop out of the snow and we didn't want her dumping them. She folded legs beneath her and began eating the store bought fare at a delicate pace very becoming of the lady she is. The sound of that engine revving up would soon become her breakfast bell.
.....We chose not to feed her too much, all though I had no idea how much too much was for a moose. I did not want her to depend on this minor sustenance for survival. It is imperative that she wander about during the day exploring and staking her territory looking for pine needles, twigs, and bark to complete her daily meals. A grown moose consumes large quantities of browse to stay healthy (I haven't come across any numbers yet) even a moose calf would need "a lot" to stay alive. Her immature legs and sinewy neck, I noticed, barred her from reaching up to skim conifer needles from most trees, but then again, the same snow that weighed her down also weighed the branches down. Is this Mother Nature's idea of balance? It's also a delicate balance for wild cratures battling the severe cold not to expend more energy than they are capable of gleaning. I trust her natural instincts are guiding her.
.....Next we offered her apples. We cut them in half to allow her mouth some gripping surface and stacked them next to her dinner bowl. She nibbled, munched, then savored this midwinter treat. There are uncultivated apple trees growing about the foothills where we live so I surmissed that the shiny red fruit would not be a foreign fare. And by her enthusiastic indulgence I was correct.
.....The last human influenced victuals we provided was a salt block. I observed her licking the hood and sides of our vehicles. It wasn't hard to figure out that she needed salt in her diet. The road chemicals were definitely not in her best interest, traveling down to the busy highway in search of this necessity would not be either. We positioned the mineral block in her feeding area and it became her new best friend. No more licking toxic road residue.
.....We have done all that we should be doing all the while maintaining our respectful distances from each other. She is still a wild animal and for her future's sake, she needs to stay that way.
.....CO's visits are more frequent and prolonged. I relish her distant company and thank her daily for allowing me to observe her. I have come to believe she is a gift to me from a Higher Source; a symbol of support to pursue passions that have baeen waiting for me for half a century.
..... I have posted part two of my docu-mini-tary on my video site at http://www.metacafe.com/, just type in orphan moose. See you next week.
..... * Ecology and Management of the North American Moose. Franzman Schwartz publisher

An orphan called "Chapter One"

.....We were adopted in the wildest way again. On a crisp January morning luminous with icy jeweled branches an infant tiptoed into our lives. Standing 4 feet at the shoulder weighing about 350 pounds she cocked her head quizzically flipping large meaningful ears back and forth wondering what type of creatures she had stumbled upon. Being human beings with unlimited access to life experiences and the internet, we knew in a minute we were being stared down by an infant moose calf. It didn't take long to figure out this baby was living solo. We had seen her, (coloration around his face indicates he is a he, but not really for sure yet)., and mom wandering about our property not two weeks ago; just before heavy snows hit hard and fast. Now we watched this gangly miniature wild thing wander aimlessly looking and waiting for a parent to return. So where was mama? Just speculation here, but the only predator thriving in this area is man. No hungry wolves, they would have taken baby first anyway. Grown moose, especially females with calves, are admirable adversaries for even wolf packs. They will kick and stomp with brutal ferocity to stay alive and protect their young. Definitely no grizzlies living on our mountain top awake or asleep. So one can be fairly accurate in deducing that mama was poached.
.....At this writing the youngster has been around for three days. she has been stripping fir boughs for nutrition, consuming snow for moisture and saving valuable energy hunkering beneath a grove of conifers less than fifty feet from our front door. On the first day she showed up about noon, slept a while, walked around for a while then wandered back down the path into the woods. Day two she appeared at exactly the same time, staying and leaving as the sun went down. The third day I pulled my Canon out of its pack and started filming this haunting creature. Why did she keep coming back to this spot? Loneliness, companionship, even from strangers .. sorrow? Maybe this was the last place she was with her mother. I wondered if she was getting enough to eat. Did the snow contain enough moisture to sustain her? If history is correct, we reasoned she was about nine months old. Moose calves are usually born late spring, May through June. So the nine months she had a mother to teach the basics of survival it appeared she learned well. The cow moose would have chased her out of the nest come late spring anyway when brother or sister was born. But until then it would have been nice to have that giant furry cushion of comfort standing guard beside you during this worst of the worst winter weather.
..... We will call this writing "An Orphan Named Chapter One," part one. Let us hope that by next week I can cheerfully write part two to this docu-minit-tary. Log onto http://www.metacafe.com/ and you can watch the saga unfold. Video will be posted January 10th. Type in the keywords "Travelin Yeti, orphans" See you next week.