Drought Story 'Round Here

Blessed rain comes, and soon the earth is dried and cracked all over again. Trees look very unhappy. I look at them and wonder whether my old friends will be back again next year. Even the hardiest of hardy, my walnut tree, looks as if it's going to die any time, now. The shoreline of Sandusky Bay is shrinking. Plants in the garden are slow to produce. Fruit is half the size it was last year around this time.

The weather here has simply not been very nice to living things, and no relief is in sight once the rainfall has gotten this far behind. NOAA reports show rainfall average statistics as only 3.4 inches for the Sandusky Bay area. Only one city, Toledo, has a lower average of 3.2.

According to NOAA,"17-day deficits ranged between 1.5 to 3 inches from the central Great Plains to the eastern Ohio Valley, and temperatures averaged well above normal. Triple-digit heat was common during the first week of July. Current NLDAS soil moisture anomalies . . . reveal widespread moisture deficits on the order of 5 to 8 inches."

I feel so dehydrated after I work outside. It's as if every living thing is competing for moisture. I think I'll buy some stock in a company that produces lotions for dry skin, or hair. I had to go to the Hair Hut for my hopeless hair. It was so dried out from the heat that it turned into an utter frizz ball. Hair salon owner, Janet, gave a sigh of relief once the dead ends laid in a thick pile on the floor. "There - that's better," she said.

The future is bleak weather-wise. According to Associated Press writer Jim Suhr, half the counties in the U.S. are categorized as disaster areas. More than not knowing what to expect, or the anticipated high prices, the whole situation makes me feel helpless. Extreme droughts don't come along often enough to anticipate what's going to happen to affect the harvest . Are there any remedies? Watering doesn't help after a time. Plants need the ions that thunderstorms produce. The next time it rains, I'm going to go out and play in the puddles. Maybe, I'll do a thankful rain dance, and hope for a happy ending to this depressing extreme drought.

Red sunrise signals hi temps

 There’s not much to harvest

 Unhappy

Apples look a little better

                                          See the difference - this cabbage is from last year




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Local Wild Garlic and Meadow Mushrooms found on Peninsula

If you’re like me and dabble in gourmet cooking (not literally,) you might look to the sides of road during spring around Marblehead peninsula.  Wild garlic, that some consider a nuisance has a wonderful mild and woodsy flavor.  Once you get a plug, it’ll be sure to grow nicely in your garden. 

I added it to my herb garden and it makes a nice statement because it’s stately and unique.  These grow up to three feet tall.  Nothing else around looks the same as these.  Look for the seeds or flowers to gather at the top of the stalk. You'll need a shovel or hand digger tool if you want to transplant one of these. The seed head flowers turn into seeds all in a cluster.  Grab a handful of seeds, and if mature enough they'll show up next year wherever these are planted. By the end of the season, the root can be harvested for more of that unique, mild flavoring.

This year, I saved the seed heads as soon as they developed. I dried them and added them in with favorite herbs.  Using kosher salt, I ran it through the herb grinder till it was almost powder.  Then I added ground up dill, sage, and oregano.  It takes a while for the flavors to congeal, but it adds tang to any recipe and is worth the wait.  Just in case a dish turns out bland, I keep a shaker of it on the table.

Meadow Mushrooms

Locals know the varied places to find wild mushrooms like Morels.  These are scattered throughout the woods during late spring around East Harbor.  Warning:  If you are not well versed in recognizing wild mushrooms, don’t try this. 

Before moving here, I was in north central Ohio.  One year I was graced with abundant mushrooms that seemed to blow as if upon some kind of fairy dust.  Looking out the window one morning, the yard was full of them. Thanks to a neighbor teaching me how to recognize this variety, I was able to harvest several pounds of these.  These are round and smooth on the edges, and have a certain glow. This is tricky, because there’s an imposter mushroom that looks very similar.  The exterior of the imposter is very similar to the edible variety.  It’s called fly agaric and - warning it is poisonous.  The fly agaric has white gills.

In any event, the Meadow Mushrom is smooth white on top and has rose colored gills.  The gills are unique, and when turning them over are obvious.  Once they get older, the gills turn chocolate brown.  By then, they aren’t usable as they’ve lost their entire flavor.

Last year in the back yard here where I live near Sandusky Bay, I saw some larger sized mushrooms that looked promising.  Turning them over, yes! – these were my favorites.  So good when freshly picked!

Over the next few days, more Meadow Mushrooms appeared.  As time went on each patchy spray got bigger.  Finally toward the end of their short season, I actually found one that was the size of a dinner plate!  This is no exaggeration.  I wouldn’t have mentioned with the accompanying photo.

 The dinner plate is a larger sized one at that!

Normally, the Meadow Mushroom looks similar to the variety sold in grocery stores.  Whatever made them grow this large is a mystery.  My husband and I cut them into cubes and froze them.  They didn’t stay in the freezer very long.

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Lakeside Marblehead Mid July Weather 2012

What’s the weather like here around Lake Erie?  The morning Toledo news predicted one hundred and ten degrees.  At five o’clock, the thermometer here near the bay read a hundred and one.  Just a few hours earlier, I talked with a friend in Florida who said the average temperature there was seventy seven.  No wonder temperatures are record breaking here in Ohio.  I headed to a local watering hole, and joined my husband.

 Muskrat Jack aka Jack Adams

At Cleat’s, a charter boat first mate named Jack Adams, known as “Muskrat Jack” sat down across the way.  He was glowing after spending a fruitless day on a charter boat fishing expedition with “Pooh Bear Charters.”   He said it was just too hot for the fish.  The catch was a poor one for Walleye Charters. In the morning at eighty eight degrees, he reports, the waves were choppy, but then diminished to zero.  They were in Canadian waters and the high was ninety six with a nice breeze.  Everyone at Cleats was inside escaping the heat while the huge waterside patio sat empty.

July 17, 2012

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Obama Lake Erie Visit More Like a Drip Than a Splash

July fifth, in a flight of imagination, I thought someone in  the Obama entourage may have read this journal. . The story about one of the three Bergman enterprises.focused on the local heritage of the Lakeside Marblehead area.  Less than week passes since this story is published, and Obama pays a visit there and buys a dozen ears of corn. More daydream imagery is as colorful as the produce displayed in abundance across multiple isles.  

Mr. President stopped at the Bergman's location nearest the freeway, posed for a snapshot in a scenario that's unnatural for this  burgeoning vegetable stand during high tourist season.  No one else was in the photo,  hence an the absence of customers.  Mr. President chased away multiple times that amount of business due to security measures.  No one else could shop for produce because of closed roads to that destination and many more.
  
Daydream imagery continues: How nice it would have been if Mr. President reimbursed the local businesses for losses incurred during high season because of various shut downs.such as roads, and air traffic.Without access to the roads, customers can't get to their usual restaurants or places to shop. With no air traffic many residents from the islands aren't shopping the usual mainland grocery places for food, or anything else. Tourist plane and helicopter flights were canceled for two days during the busiest part of the summer season. 


Other meandering thoughts went to the president's clandestine path of travel.  Which way did Obama's big black tour bus come to Lakeside after his speech to a small group in Toledo?  The station I was watching omitted filming the crowd there. From the sound of the applause, which was quite less than thundering, thoughts of a peanut gallery also came to mind.  Toledo CBS accidentally spliced the vegetable stand clip into the middle of some Toledo diner footage. Obama stood alone posing for the camera.. I mused that  Obama picked up a bag of locally roasted peanuts for the next small gathering.  


A Toledo reporter appeared at the end of this CBS Morning segment. He stated that Romney needs to give some disclosure.  In his transparent democratic bias, the reporter overlooked the fact that many U.S. citizens are still waiting for legitimate proof of Obama's birthplace.  No wonder I prefer daydreaming to reality.

Dismayed, I turned off the TV and checked my email for the second time that day.  It was approximately four o’clock. I would be rereading the instructions on how to file a take down of plagiarism of my work.  Instead, I got sidetracked by a targeted assignment from a site that would have paid me almost twenty dollars for a story and photo of the president.  Apparently, some editor had a finger on the pulse of Obama’s visit, and my location, and wanted me to catch the breaking news on short notice.  Of all the things required in order for me to accept the last minute assignment, the chance of a shower would have been eliminated.  Since I would have had to ride my bike there because of closed roads, this situation would be worsened. Also, I would have needed some time for mental preparation on how to be nice to Mr. President.  I didn’t accept the assignment.

Sometimes getting rid of my scowl is as difficult as portrayed in a performance by mime artist, Marcel Marceau when he's visiting a mask maker's shop. He tries on a smiling mask and couldn't get it off.  It was stuck. In this case, it’s a frown that’s been stuck on my face.

More imaginings drifted through the remaining afternoon. I wondered if Mr. President's tour might have included perusing the storm damage from earlier this week.  I also wondered about the security on the lake.  There were only two coastguard boats visible in attendance near the lighthouse.  But he skipped that stopover.  I imagine the biggest part of the security was undercover. There’s a three story Homeland Security located less than a mile from Bergman’s.  The Danbury police were even closer. 

Later, I decided to go to Waldo Pepper’s Restaurant and Tavern to have a beer. The roads were blocked earlier, and many people working in the hospitality business had arrived late for work.  Standing room only and the food servers were frenzied.  When a singular place appeared at the bar,  I sat down next to a gentleman who was quite curious.  He didn’t acknowledge me; but sat there frozen and looking straight ahead. The area people are generally relaxed and friendly, so I knew he wasn't local. His impenetrable façade was almost alarming. This enigmatic man was focused on the couple to his right, and three different times brought up political issues involving Obama . 

I studied the big guy's looks while he was turned toward this couple at the end of the bar.  His head was shaved clean.  He wore strange looking tinted glasses, hardly appropriate for a dimly lit bar.  Even though he was sitting down, it was apparent that this man was gargantuan.  I mean, he was big boned, tall and extremely physically fit. I recognized the couple as regulars around Waldo’s. They appeared reticent about getting involved in a political discussion.  The questions kept coming, as the big man with the shaved head persisted. The woman really looked skeptical, and kept glancing toward me. It was one of those woman to woman intuitive exchanges that I notice a lot anymore.

After a few sips of beer, I got bold enough to chime in on the conversation encouraged by our womanly intuitive exchanges. As the big guy kept at it, the woman offered a noncommittal question about Obama’s citizenship.  I remarked that he doesn't need to offer information about his birth place because he’s not a nominee yet. I too, tried to posture my remark within a neutral stance.  The woman sort of rolled her eyes. Her husband continued to find evasive remarks to put in.  After my two cents, the big fella finally turned stiffly toward me with three frozen near-miss glances.

In any event, the conversation sort of opened up after that.  The couple and myself being baby boomers spoke out against Obamacare.  The big fella wanted to draw something more out of us, it seems.  He looked at me once gazing through the heavily tinted glasses, through which his eyes were mostly obscured.  With an exaggerated southern drawl, he talked loudly all a sudden. He persisted with nudging for a  remark about the president.  I wanted to see where he was going with this.  "I wish he would just go away," I said, meaning Obama.  The couple had finished their perch dinners, and seemed anxious to wind up and leave.  They did so promptly. Then the huge man stood up and left without another word.

Where do wild imaginings take me now?   First, I'm going to wonder whether the mysterious man was planted there.  Was he representing some racist organization?  What was up with those glasses?  Were they the kind that have a hidden camera or what?  Why did he leave so suddenly?  Was he going to follow the couple to their destination?  The only answer I know for sure is that there's a new kind of eeriness surrounding Lake Erie, and I hope this goes away, too.




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A Real Estate Story of the Uncommon Kind

My husband and a builder friend literally built a mini empire of real estate holdings. I wasn’t there when the first house was built.  When I arrived on the scene, my husband built on a sixteen by twenty four sunroom for me, though.  It turned out to be the same size as our park model camper we later built on Sandusky Bay.  Eventually our building projects extended to two more houses.

In planning our Lake Erie retirement house we spared no expenses.  This house is located close to Marblehead.  The design is Cape Cod, but it really wasn’t that much smaller than our house in country with the sun room.  A big factor that highlighted our retirement is that the new Lakeside house has a lot less yard work than our country acreage we left behind in Central Ohio.

In the frame of mind that retirement brings, we never once thought there would still be another house building project in the future.  Nor did we have the mindset that we’d be around that long after signing retirement documents that included new insurance.  These had provisions that included dismemberment of body parts and a host of other morbidities.  Consequently, the fact that we would be leaving the Lakeside home to posterity made our building project into a much larger issue than simply building a house.

For me, the new house would also represent a legacy.  This is something we’d be leaving behind for the world – a statement about our lives.  So thoughts of posterity affected a lot of the choices of materials we’d use on the interior and exterior.

We chose cementuous siding instead of the currently popular, affordable vinyl siding. Cementuous siding is molded to look like cedar, and is made of cement plus aggregate. I wanted to leave something of value, and the cementuous siding will still be here long after we’re gone.  The insulating factor keeps it cool in summer and warm in winter.  The homeowners insurance is cheaper because this kind of siding is fireproof.

However, with cementuous being a new type of siding back then, we didn’t know  each “board” weighed ten pounds.  Most of the siding required hoisting these ten pound boards up a ladder. 

We used double pane, tilt in windows which also gives protection from the Noreasters that come along in winter.  Stainless steel and brass fixtures went into the bathrooms.  We ordered custom cabinetry for there and the kitchen.  The list goes on.

Our house is now being considered for a possible inclusion into a fenced in resort where property is always coveted. After considerable coaxing and complaining, I got to talk to the CEO of the resort, and he arranged new pavement for our street.  This makes a big difference.  The value of our house immediately goes up twenty percent.  If and when we are included in the resort, the value of the house becomes thirty percent more than it was.  Even though the economy is sluggish, the motivation to instill an intrinsic, heartfelt quality may be a saving grace that buffers the problems of the current economy.




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Storm pelts Lake Erie from Michigan to Sandusky

Was it a storm or a tornado?  Winds aloft aren't an uncommon event around Lake Erie.  Anyone who knows the Edmond Fitzgerald song should tune into it now, because strange events that no one understands are commonplace around the Great Lakes.  Unlike the ocean, the smaller bodies of water are more prone to rock the boat because of the short distance from shore to shore. Between 6:30 and seven p.m. yesterday, the first day of July, a violent storm came out of nowhere.   Catawba got bombarded first.  Completely missing the Lakeside area, lightning, hail and forty to sixty mile an hour winds wreaked havoc and destruction in its path across Sandusky Bay area where more damage occurred. 

Loud riveting knocking noises brought me to the patio door to discover the cause of the sharp, staccato thumps.  Staying away from windows is a well known admonition, but that was impossible.  I had to see what was happening.  The sky was yellow toward the southeastern horizon indicating tornadoes. Mesmerized for a split second, I looked starboard again and noticed the wind was blowing in two different directions right there in front of the patio door window. Branches of willow trees, maple, ash and various fruit trees passed horizontally so rapidly they were a green specked blur. 

With huge noisy hail pummeling the house from the north, a chilling fear hit.  That’s when I headed for an interior closet. Though soundly positioned behind the closet door with coats all around me, I still heard the hammering noise of the hail. It continued hitting for another minute or two, and suddenly curtailed leaving only scary silence in the darkness of the closet. 

Like a baby's tears followed by laughter, the day turned clear.  Watching the bluish sky turning into twilight would never have given a clue of what had just happened. I felt I could go outside now, and see if there was any damage.  There was.  For starters . . .
                                                        

Sheets of opposing winds blew the boat into the camper    

Previously pristine camper dented on one side pock marked on other

A four hundred year old tree fell on the neighbor’s barn and demolished it.  Our boat that was parked in the driveway turned diagonally and smashed into the adjacent parked camper. Bits and pieces of tree limbs coated the ground.  I ran to the neighbors to find out if everyone was alright and was hoping no one was in the barn when the tree fell on it.  They were all fine, to my relief.

Nothing to save of this structure -  the damage inside minimal 

Our house for sale sign was riveted. . .

Ripped and torn sign but no damage to house

    

We were lucky that there was minimal damage to the house, like screens knocked out, and a few dings to the seamless siding on the north side.

The dings only show when the sun is in the east

By the way. . . we were so glad that we used cement siding. We got a discount on the insurance for this.

Garden produce laid face down in the mud along with summer’s hopes and dreams.  Pools of water gathered everywhere as the fading sun turned into a yellowish blue twilight.  Vinyl siding looked like Swiss cheese. Hanging planters laid smashed on the ground. We gathered in the neighbor’s driveway and exchanged stories of what we were doing when the storm hit.  Excitement faded into the despair of futility with the realization of the oncoming nightfall. The morning after was a whole new day.

Neighbor friend, Ron, finds shade under the branches of the fallen tree 

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Bergman’s Vegetable Stand and Greenhouse - Lakeside Heritage of Quaintness

Mrs. Bergman’s Babies

Around Lakeside Marblehead, the Bergman family still grows produce in the abundant fields surrounding the quaint vegetable stands.  Bright red apples on wooden signs catch the eye of passersby, but this is only a rich detail.  Almost everyone visiting Lakeside area notices the wonderful displays of vegetables and flowers. Bergman’s steps up to the plate preserving the history of a long standing family enterprise.

Locals put in orders for Mrs. Bergman or her daughter to have ready in the springtime.  At a time during a bygone day she’d leave the door to the produce section ajar and she operated on the honor system for the locals.

The fertilizers were organic for a long time, as she allowed fishermen to throw scraps of the catch into a compost bin.  The results came in the form of the most beautiful, healthy nursery products. The finished results of flat after flat displayed abundantly in multiple rows signaled the coming of spring.   Well into her eighties, Mrs. B roasts her own peanuts in an iron pot belly stove that’s been around even longer than she has.

She’s a tiny framed widow who lost her husband a few years back.  Still very clear minded, she runs her operation flawlessly with the help of her daughter and a handful of loyal employees.  Sporting a stylish hairdo, there isn’t a gray hair to be seen on her head.  She’s got a nearly flawless complexion, and walks a perfectly graceful stride.

Lately she has gotten very attached to her plant starts – almost as if these were her babies.  The zucchini starts were sold out quickly this year.  So, Mrs. B started a new batch to compensate.  Always a late bird, I couldn’t find the zucchini plants anywhere, so I asked her assistant for help.  Mrs. B overheard me and beckoned.  We walked all the way to the back of greenhouse number four, and there were her babies.  Before she would let me buy them, she had to explain that the tertiary growth had not begun yet.  From there came a complete set of instructions qualifying the forward movement of selling me one or two of these plant babies.

Later, I went there looking for dill.  I like to have the dill plants mature early because I mix up pickling brines ahead of time. That way, when the avalanche of ripening produce hits, I’ll be ready for canning.  When I asked about the dill, I got the advice that it’s too soon for dill yet, because it would be ready to harvest too soon.  It’s a fast growing herb.

“Aren’t there any seeds I could get?” I asked. 

“No,” she answered.  And her assistant confirmed.

Amused, but still wanting my dill, I went back to the tent with the seed display.  Searching, searching up and down the rack, I finally found them.  The dill seeds were hidden at the very bottom of the display.  They were tucked behind some flower seed packets.  I was hoping Mrs. Bergman wouldn’t be there when I checked out with my packet of dill.  I would have felt guilty if she knew I had not followed the earth mother’s advice.

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