For the Birds

January 29, 2000

FOR THE BIRDS

After years of feeding birds in return for their service in the garden, it dawned on me that the feed bills should be part of the entertainment budget and the feeder(s) should be where we could watch the birds comfortably. In summer the best way is to sit quietly on the front porch until the birds trust you, then enjoy a steady flurry of swoops and darts and petty quarrels. In winter, we hang one feeder directly in front of the breakfast window. Squirrels and raccoons tore down the window sill tray feeder. The birds boycotted a pretty cedar thistle feeder. Another feeder had suction cups to hold it in view, but I realized too late that we have permanently installed screens on all the windows. A cheap plastic tube full of thistle was popular until it disintegrated from the sun. Now at last I have a feeder that works, for finches and chickadees or any other bird that likes to eat upside down. This feeder has a strong metal cap to keep out rain and squirrels. It has 6 perches. It came with directions for me but not for the birds. No problem. The bird lands on the perch, swings down, picks a seed out of the tube, swings back up, eats the thistle or cracks it open on his perch, swings down again, and so on. Well, today a young finch arrived who couldn't figure this out. He knew where the hole was. He kept trying to pick out a seed by flying down to the hole, which never worked. He tried for a long time. Then he flew up to the walnut tree to observe and think it over. Presently he came back and joined the trapeze artists league.

Birds are not always helpful in the garden. I watched pheasants one morning systematically and efficiently uncover and eat an entire row of newly planted pea seeds. I have read that geese can be trusted to eat weeds and leave the vegetable plants, but I don't believe everything I read.

I have cookbooks devoted entirely to one vegetable, but I seldom use them unless there is a sudden explosion of one thing. Then a book like Too Many Tomatoes is valuable. Mostly, fresh vegetables taste so great that a little salt and butter is all they need. Asparagus and sugar snap peas seldom make it to the stove. I munch as I weed.

I am adjusting to cooking for one, but have to wonder about gardening for one. I think I will just let the borders get wider, and the rows shorter, but I am not ready to give up chopped fresh basil in my scrambled eggs, or fresh lettuce or new potatoes or onions that keep all winter, hanging in the attic. I didn't know I was growing potatoes until a guest told me so. I insisted I had never planted potatoes, which was true, but I had buried peelings. We have had potatoes every year since. I have grown them in deep trenches, shallow trenches, on top of the ground covered with hay. They grow by any system, if the weather suits them. They don't want as much water as the tomatoes do. They are handsome plants at first, then they turn scruffy and yellow and droopy before it is time to dig the crop. But meanwhile you can feel around the roots and pull off a few tiny new potatoes. The plant keeps on growing and making big potatoes. I still bury all the garbage, so we have volunteer potato plants all over the garden. They usually produce more than the seed potatoes planted neatly in rows.
The onions have to be pulled when the tops bend over, left in the garden a day or so, then spread on the front porch to dry, moved back and forth out of the rain. When the stalks are really dry I braid them into bunches of ten or so, tie them with a strip of rag from the weaving department, and hang them from nails in the attic. Each year I use the last one when the new crop has begun to make scallions. This past year there was no garden because of drought and I had to waste a lot of store bought onions . They didn't keep long enough to use up a bag full.

I plant basil and marigolds and garlic here and there to confuse the munchers who would otherwise eat all the lettuce and beans. It is my theory that it's not that they dislike these smells, but that the strong smell covers up the delicate odors of the good things. Summer, the dog, helps too. He is the only dog I have known who kills woodchucks. He finds one near its burrow and they face each other about 2 feet apart. Summer barks continually, a special bark which tells me there's no use trying to distract him. He and the woodchuck dance in a circle with the woodchuck trying to get to his tunnel and Summer looking for a chance to get past those big teeth and grab the neck. When he gets a grip he carries the animal home to the house to bury. He removes dirt with his paws and pushes it back in place with his nose.

I asked an experienced old farmer the best way to keep woodchucks out of the garden. He said, "Be there."

There is one vegetable that benefits from a recipe, and that's a cucumber. I don't have good luck with these because they insist on a steady supply of water. I like plants that just make the best of what nature sends, most of the time. If the cukes grow, we have Irene's Pickles, a recipe from a 1958 Friendly Cooks letter, and Fresh Cucumber Salad, a recent addition to family favorites, and then there's mother's all purpose Pickle Solution, to pickle whatever. I thought you could go to http://www.ball.com and get canning recipes, but Ball has stopped making jars and gone into aerospace technology. Fortunately I have the Ball Blue Book from 1941, 1 later edition, and a fine collection of fruit stained folders from Sure Jell boxes, so I can send you copies of any particular canning recipe you need. If you look for http://www.surejell.com you will get Kraft Foods, just as for Jell-O. You can get all kinds of recipes there, and open your own recipe box to keep your favorites in.

Another thing I've learned about gardening, if I weed the strawberry bed perfectly, the aforementioned birds take a bite out of every one, no matter how much bird seed I put out, but if I weed just enough to help the plants grow, but leave some weed cover, I get the berries.

There's something about 18 inches of snow on the ground that sends me to the calendar. There are just 47 days left before St. Patrick's Day and time to plant peas.