May 10, 2004

We returned from Vancouver the end of April and began preparing the garden. The perennials are up and many herbs which we can add to our salads.  The early wildflowers have been especially joyful.  We discovered two patches of Calypso Lady Slipper south of the cabin.  This exotic purple orchid is the earliest of the Lady Slippers to flower locally and is usually quite reclusive and hidden.  A Clematis is blooming profusely east of the cabin and its deep blue blossoms—like blue stars reaching for the sky—are climbing to the top of a Saskatoon bush.

May 28, 2004

The garden is planted and we have renewed our gopher proofing.  Last year Ralph cleared the ground on each side of the fence so we could see any new holes.  At the fence base we then spread a foot of fine wire on the ground and weighted it with stones.  We ran the wire vertically for a foot and attached it to the main six foot wire fence.  The fine wire keeps the gophers from digging at the base of the fence and we fill any new holes dug within the cleared area.  With a couple of exceptions this has been largely successful.

Our gopher population has greatly increased.  However as long as we can keep them from the garden, they are immensely entertaining.  The young play and cavort like kittens.  One day I saw a small head poke from a hole near me. As I watched, the first was pushed to the side by a second, then a third poked up, then all three jockeyed for positions atop the mound where they then sat studying me—just as I sat studying them. 

Their high-pitched warning whistle can be irritating so Ralph has developed ways of talking and communicating with them—training them not to whistle at us. Because of this(?), or because they have decided we are essentially harmless(?), they seldom bother to send warning signals on my or Ralphs’ approach.  Yet they still whistle for newcomers and have special whistles for birds of prey, predators, etc.  By listening—and practicing our interpretive skills— we have gained instant knowledge on who/what is in the area. Who needs a watch-dog.  We have “watch-gophers”!

June 20, 2004

It has been extremely hot.  No rain.  The vegetation looks wilted and the forest floor is dry underfoot—too much like last year’s extreme forest fire hazard, only two months earlier in the year.

How does one fireproof wild forest, which is most of our property?  Plus our land backs onto limitless Crown land in all but one corner.  Do we destroy one of the prime reasons for living in this area—accessible wilderness—because of the potential of something which may or may not happen—forest fire?

(In our second summer on the place, Ralph was away working at a children’s camp and I was home with our two daughters.  A major fire occurred on the mountain behind us.  A wind change filled our valley with dense smoke—obliterating the sun.  In daylight the sky was red above the mountain.  Our neighbour came to see if I wanted to leave.  I looked at the river and our ponds and didn’t see a danger to our persons so decided to stay.  But I had the experience of a fairly close observation of the effects of a fire just over the ridge. The fire was controlled soon after this.)

We decided to expand last year’s fire break.  And we invested in a high pressure fire pump and fire hose.  We are only two people.  One must start the pump while the other controls the nozzle.  Because I am still working on strengthening my left shoulder which I broke in January, Ralph worried that I might not be able to hold the pressure of the nozzle.  So I was to start the pump.

I’m not mechanical and I don’t like machines but fire prevention requires out of the ordinary effort.  For maximum benefit it would be necessary for both Ralph and I to handle the system.

Today was our trial run.  We decided to water the garden and fruit trees.  By the time we had everything set up it was midday—hot.  My first little problem was trying to accommodate sound mufflers, glasses, and hat on my head at once.  I discovered I could do without the glasses and I was able to balance the hat on the earmuffs….  Open the fuel… then close the choke… then turn on the electricity.  I got a good firm stance—feet wide apart, left hand braced on the handle and avoiding the muffler and the exhaust with their caution HOT.   I  pulled the starting cord with my right arm gently until I felt some tension, then strong pull back….Nothing.  Okay, again—stronger and faster (thank goodness it was my left shoulder I broke).  In my exuberance the pump bounced but nothing happened.  I had visions of doing exercises to build up my right arm.  Ralph came down and pointed out I had the angle of the cord too much to the side…Try again.  Gently, strong pull, straight out…and SURPRISE the engine rumbled, vibrated, and came to life!  I turned off the choke and the engine chugged happily.  I push the throttle full on and saw the water blasting like a geyser at the top of the hill.  Obviously enough pressure.  I back off the throttle.

I joined Ralph in the garden and took my turn on the hose.  I could feel the pull of the heavy fire hose on my left shoulder but was pleased that it didn’t present a problem.

So…we took turns watering the garden, experimenting with adjusting the nozzle for best use and gave the plants a thorough soaking.  After two hours the plants looked happy and refreshed like after a torrential downpour.  Only a few got flattened in our excesses and the splattered mud was washed off the leaves two days later by a gentle shower from the sky.

Ralph and I were relieved and pleased—we had lots of pressure and both/either of us could operate the system in an emergency.

We hope it will only be needed for the garden.