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    <title>Columnists</title>
    <description>Columnists</description>
    <link>http://feeds.zebramm.com</link>
    <pubDate>Sat, 22 Nov 2008 00:34:35 EST</pubDate>
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      <title>Sanderling: A 'true' sandpiper</title>
      <link>http://www.reformer.com/columnists/ci_11039631?source=rss</link>
      <description>&lt;![CDATA[Friday, November 21 I love the seashore and beach most of the year.]]&gt;</description>
      <fulltext>Friday, November 21  I love the seashore and beach most of the year. I am not too keen about the seashore during the summer when the sun is melanoma producing, and the sand is littered with debris that has drifted from inland and is scattered in nearly naked lumps all over the place. But in the fall, winter, and spring that debris has been gathered up and returned to its city scape. Then the seashore beach is in its elemental form. The rising and falling tides stir the sands, smoothing them at the water's edge, constantly reshaping the sandbars and dunes, and often casting up the ocean's debris. &lt;/p&gt; In late October, I walked some beaches in Cape May, N.J. The low sun of the waning day glared off the placid waves. My long shadow preceded me as I walked slowly along the wet sand, just out of the water's reach. Another lone walker was far ahead, apparently more intent on exercise than I was; her pace widened the distance between us. I allowed the distance to grow greater as I stopped and watched tiny white shorebirds chasing the waves. &lt;/p&gt; Their legs were a blur as they ran up the sand ahead of the waves. Then they reversed direction to chase the water as it receded -- back and forth, like school yard children playing tag -- or teasing a playful dog on a leash. The birds I watched were Sanderlings, and they are one of the reasons I love the beach along the seashore. &lt;/p&gt; Sanderlings are common along our seacoasts except from mid-June to mid-July. During that period they are north of the Arctic circle, breeding. They waste little time in that task and are soon back along our coasts, chasing the waves. If you see a sandpiper on a sandy beach going back and forth with the water, barely getting its feet wet, you are seeing a Sanderling. &lt;/p&gt; Audubon knew this bird as the Sanderling Sandpiper. Somewhere along the line, the mavens of nomenclature decided this was redundant, and dropped "sandpiper" from its name. But the Sanderling is arguably the only "true" sandpiper. &lt;/p&gt; The "piper" part of "sandpiper" seems to come from a word meaning "chirp," or "peep," hence sandpipers are "birds that chirp on the sand," or "peep on the sand." The Sanderling and its closest relatives (in the genus Calidris) are known among bird watchers as "peeps." The Sanderling (meaning "little bird of the sand") is the only sandpiper which you will regularly find on sand -- or sandy beaches. I went through the Kaufman guide for the habitats where we are most likely to see other Calidris sandpipers. Here's what I found: &lt;/p&gt; Least sandpiper -- edges of rivers, ponds, marshes &lt;/p&gt; Semipalmated sandpiper -- mudflats &lt;/p&gt; Western sandpiper -- open flats &lt;/p&gt; Pectoral sandpiper -- grassy mudflats, flooded fields (the "grasspiper") &lt;/p&gt; White-rumped sandpiper -- flooded fields, marshy edges of mudflats &lt;/p&gt; Baird's sandpiper -- grassy mudflats, flooded fields &lt;/p&gt; Buff-breasted sandpiper -- short-grass plains, plowed fields &lt;/p&gt; Dunlin -- mudflats &lt;/p&gt; Red Knot -- tidal flats, sandy beaches &lt;/p&gt; Purple sandpiper -- rocky coastlines, jetties &lt;/p&gt; Spotted and Solitary sandpiper (not genus Calidris) -- along creeks and ponds &lt;/p&gt; Most of these sandpipers will rest and sleep on sandy flats. On northbound migration, they feed on horseshoe crab eggs buried in the sandy beaches of the Delaware Bay. But their usual, preferred place for foraging, and where they are most often seen by the watchers of shorebirds, is not the sandy beach. Most would be more accurately termed "mudpipers." But dont expect any name changes in the near, or even distant, future. There is no requirement for accuracy in a common bird name. &lt;/p&gt; The Sanderling is the exception. The Sanderling is a bird of the sand. It sleeps on sandy flats and forages at water's edge on sandy beaches. It is a true "bird on the sand that peeps." The Sanderling is common, and it is very tempting to see it along a sandy beach -- say to oneself, "Sanderling," and go on to look for something else. But they merit leisurely watching. I stood watching them as the waves broke, spray flying. They were masters of timing -- probing the sand, then nimbly running up the slope ahead of the water -- then racing the water back down to grab new morsels stirred by the water's action. &lt;/p&gt; I watched a dozen Sanderlings probing wet sand where the tide had ebbed. Something sent them flying further down the beach. I walked closer to where they had been probing. Tiny little holes dotted the wet sand, an inch apart in random lines. My feet barely left a mark on the hard, wet surface. The tiny feet of the Sanderlings left no mark at all. Had I not been watching, this series of holes in the sand would have posed a mystery, causing me to wonder what could have caused these neat, uniform holes in the sand. But I had seen the Sanderlings. &lt;/p&gt; Most of the year when we encounter Sanderlings, we see them in winter plumage. Then they are white, or gray-white, pale and chunky little birds. In Spring they molts into breeding plumage, briefly sporting a rich, reddish brown on head and foreparts. The times of transition from one plumage to the next present an array of in-between appearances. But whatever the plumage, Sanderlings are most likely to be on the sandy beach chasing the receding waters and speeding from the incoming waves. &lt;/p&gt; On that Cape May beach, the Sanderlings were frenetic in their feeding, but fairly calm with my presence. By slow degrees, I inched closer. I could see them probe with open beak, gulp some tiny delicacy, always mindful of where the water's edge was, whether to hurry toward the ocean or away from it. &lt;/p&gt; And then suddenly, the flock took flight. In an instant, 60 birds disappeared over the dunes. In the corner of my eye, I saw a dark form. Almost as quickly as I could lift my binoculars, the dark form had also disappeared beyond the dunes. I could only get a feel of pointed wings, but it was enough. Sanderlings were foraging along the shoreline in the late afternoon. So was the Merlin. I had watched Sanderlings ingesting energy against the chilly autumn night. And now I wondered if the merlin, a falcon of the north, would also be feeding. &lt;/p&gt; I can't choose between the two, and have no right to do so anyway. So I wished the Sanderlings -- and the merlin -- good luck and good feeding. &lt;/p&gt; The seashore birding that late October afternoon was very good. &lt;/p&gt;  Chris Petrak is a birding hobbyist who lives in South Newfane. Photos of the birds he writes about can be seen at  www.tailsofbirding.net . Contact him by e-mail:  chrsptrk@svcable.net .  &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;/p&gt;</fulltext>
      <pubDate>Fri Nov 21 08:04:54 UTC 2008</pubDate>
      <author>Reformer.com</author>
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      <title>After the flowers go</title>
      <link>http://www.reformer.com/columnists/ci_11029845?source=rss</link>
      <description>&lt;![CDATA[Thursday, November 20 CORNISH FLAT, N.H. I love flowers.]]&gt;</description>
      <fulltext>Thursday, November 20  CORNISH FLAT, N.H. &lt;/p&gt; I love flowers. Flower arrangements in my living and work spaces make me feel content, uplifted, soothed. Most of the year, I pick my own flowers -- though in the depths of winter I visit my local florist to buy a few stems. Even in winter I like to create arrangements using things that I've picked myself. By now flowers are getting as scarce as knucklebones on a night crawler, but I recently went outside and was pleasantly surprised at what I found. &lt;/p&gt; Actually, I wasn't too surprised. I was pretty sure I would be able to pick some Johnny jump-ups. They're relatives of the pansy with little purple faces, touched up with yellow and white in their centers. Over the years I've had them bloom in every month of the year. Even January? Sure, a week of thaw and some rain, and they'll bloom. They are flighty, moving from place to place on a whim. I found a nice batch in bloom in the vegetable garden -- I didn't put them there, they just volunteered. &lt;/p&gt; Other than the Johnnys, I had to resort to picking stems with seeds or berries, ferns and grasses. Of the berries, I love winterberry (Ilex verticillata) best. Winterberry is our native holly, and unlike the stuff you may buy with shiny green prickly leaves, these lose their leaves each fall. They're tough as nails, growing in swamps and along roadsides. I planted some alongside our brook years ago, and even after the streambed moved -- leaving the bushes in standing water -- they perform year after year. &lt;/p&gt; Winterberry is a dioecious plant, which is a snooty way of saying there separate male and female plants. I've read that you need one male for 5 or so females. But I would guess that, like the polygamous chiefs in Cameroon (where I was a Peace Corps volunteer), one male can take care of more than five females (I met a chief with 300 wives). A good male for pollinating is 'Jim Dandy', the variety I grow. The red berries fall off after a week or two indoors, or if bumped, but do add a nice bright red to any arrangement. Outdoors mine lose their berries by late January, either to birds or gravity. I've never noticed birds feasting on ours. &lt;/p&gt; There are evergreen holly bushes available that look like the stuff you buy for the holidays. China Boy (and Girl) or Blue Girl (and Boy) are hybrids that are generally hardy only to minus twenty degrees. I don't bother with them because even if they survive a winter, their leaves are often killed, making them look ratty. &lt;/p&gt; There are still at least two kinds of ferns still lush and green in our woods, but only one (that I know of) that will hold up in a vase, Christmas fern (Polystichum acrostichoides). I'm not sure why it's called Christmas fern -- someone once told me that each pinna (leaflet) is shaped like a little Christmas stocking. More likely is the fact that it is still green at Christmas and can be used in decorating homes. I put some in a vase recently and they started to wilt in 4 or 5 days, while most ferns wilt in that many hours. &lt;/p&gt; Christmas ferns grow well in moist shade, even growing in mixed conifer and hardwood forests; they will also survive on dry, rocky hillsides. They are hardy to Zone 3 (minus 30 to 40). If you pick fronds of Christmas fern, don't take more than a couple from any one plant. They are slow-growing plants, and need their fronds for photosynthesis. &lt;/p&gt; Other plants suitable for bringing inside? Rose hips, the fruit of roses, hold up well, but vary considerably in size and color. Look at your rose bushes to see if yours are suitable for use in a vase. Princess (or ground) pine (Lycopodium obscurum), which is actually not a pine but a clubmoss, is a lovely ground cover in the woods. It has long underground stems and sends up miniature "trees" that resemble tiny pines, but only 4-8 inches tall. There is a related species, Lycopodium clavatum, that is also called ground pine -- which is why I like Latin names. &lt;/p&gt; Twigs of all deciduous trees can be lovely in a vase, particularly against a bare wall. My 'Merrill' magnolias has large furry flower buds and handsome gray bark. Hop hornbeam (Ostrya virginiana) has magnificent ornately-branched stems and delicate little buds on the tip of each. Beech branches are handsome, with their gray bark and cigar-shaped buds. Then, of course, are the evergreens: white pine and hemlock are plentiful and never complain if you snip a branch or two. The pines hold their foliage well, the hemlocks shed much sooner. &lt;/p&gt; Lastly, don't forget the grasses: I recently cut stems of Micanthus sinensis 'Morning Light' and placed them in a vase with a couple of dried stems of a tall astilbe. It is a tall arrangement -- 36 inches, and the seed heads are light and fluffy. The leaves of the grass make delicate curlicues that dance when the air moves. &lt;/p&gt; Don't let the weather deter you. Go outside, pick a few stems and bring them inside to grace the table. It will help you get through the dark days of winter. &lt;/p&gt;  Henry Homeyer is the author of 3 gardening books. He may be reached at P.O. Box 364, Cornish Flat, NH 03746 or at  henry.homeyer@comcast.net . His Web Site is  www.Gardening -Guy.com.  &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;/p&gt;</fulltext>
      <pubDate>Thu Nov 20 08:01:56 UTC 2008</pubDate>
      <author>Reformer.com</author>
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      <title>So happy together</title>
      <link>http://www.reformer.com/columnists/ci_11020394?source=rss</link>
      <description>&lt;![CDATA[Wednesday, November 19 With the elections over and the campaigning done we can get back to running the country.]]&gt;</description>
      <fulltext>Wednesday, November 19  With the elections over and the campaigning done we can get back to running the country. Right? Wrong! We've still got this ever-loving battle of left and right, red and blue, liberal and conservative. During the last two election cycles, it didn't bother me as much even though I knew it was there. I guess I just didn't feel as (pardon the phrase) raped as I do know. After eight years of the Bush administration, I couldn't stand anything that had an R in front of it name (R standing for Republican and not rape, although...). So to some degree I'm not helping things. At the moment, I'm playing the part of the left blue liberal that wants 70, no 80, Dems running the Senate, not the filibuster-proof 60 (which more than likely won't happen). Even though I've gone on record as saying I'm not a fan of one side having a voting majority, I think there should be discussion -- but I guess we still got Lieberman (or do we -- what a maverick). &lt;/p&gt; Look, I only want 70 because I want revenge. I want my country back. I want the idea that we can be liked again throughout the world. Think about it for a second. The economy is good, we're all working and making ends meet, our military is used on our own soil and things are calm. How nice would that be? But look at what we have now, financial collapse, unemployment rate at an all-time high, not one but two wars with a military spread so thin that we are actually having to use our National Guard. As for things being calm let's just say the pharmaceutical companies have been doing well with their anti-anxiety drugs in the past few years. &lt;/p&gt; So the battle of left and right continues. Rush Limbaugh has already called this the Obama recession; Glenn Beck (another Republican shill) has made the statement that "our Constitution is hanging on by a thread." Beck made his statement based on losing the majority of the Senate seats because our Constitution says we're supposed to have a balance. I wonder what he's been saying for the last eight years -- especially from 2000 -- 2006 when the Pubs held control, and a president who only recognized that our American Constitution was too stiff to use as toilet paper. But it doesn't end there. The Wasilla Kid has still been going on with stump speeches like the campaign hasn't ended, running around talking about how we should support the new administration but saying it like you've walked into someone's home and said, "Oh, nice furniture, if you like that sort of thing". It's gotta stop, it's tiring. &lt;/p&gt; Awhile back, I proclaimed that I was part of a new political party, the Pedestrian Party. This is indeed not a party at all, rather a mindset that we can run this country together without dividing from left to right. In this non-party we're able to talk it through; we find the common ground; we create a well-oiled machine of a nation that for the most part minds its own business and everyone thinks of us as New Zealand (you know a cool country that no one hates). I know my vision is a bit utopic. Getting rid of a party system is farfetched. But before you draw a conclusion and pitch my idea out the window, I should tell you that on Sundays we don't use cars because we all have the ability to fly on cotton candy clouds. It's very nice. I get it, I know that my Pedestrian Party will likely never happen -- which makes it really important to work with the system we have in place. As much as I write about politics, I gotta say I grow weary of a nation divided from left to right and vice versa. We actually need to work to together at this point and get this country back on track. It wasn't just one party that created this mess but it's going to certainly take both to clean it up. What the hell is up with that? &lt;/p&gt;  Fish is the morning talent on Classic Hits 92.7 FM. He also offers up his opinion on-line at  www.whatdahell.net . E-mail him at  fish@wkvt.com .  &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;/p&gt;</fulltext>
      <pubDate>Wed Nov 19 08:03:15 UTC 2008</pubDate>
      <author>Reformer.com</author>
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      <title>Electricity from the sun</title>
      <link>http://www.reformer.com/columnists/ci_11011659?source=rss</link>
      <description>&lt;![CDATA[Tuesday, November 18 Almost all of our methods for generating electricity are fundamentally the same.]]&gt;</description>
      <fulltext>Tuesday, November 18  Almost all of our methods for generating electricity are fundamentally the same. Coal-, nuclear-, and natural-gas-fired power plants boil water to produce high-pressure steam that spins a dynamo in a "steam turbine." The wood-chip-fired combined-heat-and-power (CHP) plant that we want to build in Brattleboro works the same way. The heat sources used in these systems, of course, are very different--each with its own environmental and health concerns--but the way they actually produce the electricity is, fundamentally, the same. Hydro power plants use the gravitational force of flowing water to spin a similar turbine, and windmills use the power of wind to do the same thing. &lt;/p&gt; There's only one fundamentally different power-generation technology that's feeding a significant amount of electricity into the utility grid: photovoltaics, or the direct conversion of sunlight into electricity. Photovoltaic (PV) cells, remarkably, produce electricity with no moving parts. There's no mechanical gearing to lubricate or wear out, essentially nothing to maintain. They just sit there, in the sun, and generate direct-current electrical energy. &lt;/p&gt; While simple in their effect, how PV cells work is quite complex. Here's an oversimplification of the process: A PV cell is made of a "semiconductor" material, such as silicon--semiconductors are materials whose electrical conductivity can be changed by adding small amounts of impurities. In a typical silicon PV cell, there are two layers of slightly different silicon, separated by a "cell junction." On one side of the cell, the silicon wants to get rid of electrons; the other side wants electrons. &lt;/p&gt; When photons of light strike the cell, the electrons in the silicon become energized, and some of them jump across the cell junction--but they con only cross that junction one way. As a result a charge differential is created, with more electrons (electrical charge) on one side of the cell than the other. By connecting a wire to the cell, this charge differential can be equalized by allowing the electrons to flow through the wire. This flow of electrons is direct-current (DC) electricity, and we can tap into that current to perform work--powering motors, producing light, etc. &lt;/p&gt; PV cells are wired together into "PV modules" so that the small amounts of current created by each cell are aggregated into useful quantities of electrical power. The modules, in turn, are often combined into "PV arrays"--sometimes huge arrays that generate many kilowatts or even megawatts of electricity when the sun is shining. Finally, inverters convert the DC electricity into alternating current (AC) that can operate standard electrical devices or be fed into the power grid using special equipment. &lt;/p&gt; The practical photovoltaic cell was invented in the 1950s by scientists at Bell Laboratories in New York. Initially, the cost was extremely high--thousands of dollars per peak watt of output. The first applications for PV were on space satellites where that high cost was not a concern. In fact, local PV expert Richard Gottlieb of Sunnyside Solar in Guilford ( www.sunnysidesolar.com ), worked at the Naval Research Laboratory installing PV cells on the Vanguard satellite as a college student in 1957. &lt;/p&gt; As the manufacturing of PV modules was streamlined and the cell efficiencies improved, costs came down. By the 1970s, PV power became practical for applications like remote radio repeater stations and Coast Guard signal buoys. In 1983, I organized a conference for the Northeast Sustainable Energy Association, "Photovoltaics: From Research to Reality," which was held at MIT in Cambridge. By then, some pioneering designers were incorporating PV arrays into houses. Steven Strong, of Solar Design Associates in Harvard, MA, designed some of the first such homes, and he continues to be a leading designer of PV-powered homes. &lt;/p&gt; Today, there are tens of thousands of homes throughout the country that derive a significant portion--sometimes all--of their electricity from PV arrays. Many of these are "off-grid" homes that are totally independent of utility power. They have battery banks so that lighting and other electrical devices can be used at night or during very cloudy periods. There are dozens of such homes in the Brattleboro area. &lt;/p&gt; Other homes with PV power are "grid-connected." Rather than batteries, these homes have "net-metering" systems that feed electricity into the grid when the sun is shining and the PV system is producing more electricity than the house needs to operate. In states with net-metering laws, including Vermont, New Hampshire, New York, and Massachusetts, when the PV system is producing excess power the electric meter spins in reverse, and the utility company effectively pays you for that electricity at the same retail price you pay for electricity. &lt;/p&gt; Though PV costs have dropped a great deal since the 1980s, high first-cost remains an impediment to widespread use of PVs. For a grid-connected PV system (without batteries), installed costs today range from About $6,000 to $12,000 per peak kilowatt (kW) of capacity, before government incentives or tax credits. Thus, a 4.5 kW residential system, which would produce about as much electricity annually as a typical home uses, will cost in the range of $27,000 to over $50,000. Grid-connected PV systems are eligible for cash subsidies from the states of Vermont, New Hampshire, Massachusetts, Connecticut, and New York, as well as a 30% federal tax credit. For more information on costs and subsidies, contact an installer, such as Richard Gottlieb or one of the companies listed in last week's column. &lt;/p&gt;  Alex Wilson is president of BuildingGreen, LLC in Brattleboro, coauthor of the Consumer Guide to Home Energy Savings (9th edition, 2007) and author of Your Green Home (2006). He is also chair of the Dummerston Energy Committee and a board member of Brattleboro Thermal Utility.  &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;/p&gt;</fulltext>
      <pubDate>Tue Nov 18 08:03:10 UTC 2008</pubDate>
      <author>Reformer.com</author>
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      <title>More on the red bird</title>
      <link>http://www.reformer.com/columnists/ci_10982220?source=rss</link>
      <description>&lt;![CDATA[Friday, November 14 "In richness of plumage, elegance of motion, and strength of song, this species surpasses all its kindred in the United States.]]&gt;</description>
      <fulltext>Friday, November 14  "In richness of plumage, elegance of motion, and strength of song, this species surpasses all its kindred in the United States. It is known by the names of Red-bird, Virginia Nightingale, Cardinal-bird, and that at the head of the present article." So began John James Audubon's description of what he called the Cardinal Grosbeak, and which we today know by the common name, Northern Cardinal. Early residents or wandering naturalist sometimes tried to associate it with particular states, naming it the Virginia Cardinal and Kentucky Cardinal. It has also been known as the crested redbird, perhaps to distinguish it from the uncrested, Summer Tanager, also red and also southern. &lt;/p&gt; Scientifically, the Northern Cardinal is Cardinalis cardinalis. There are three species in the genus, Cardinalis. Pyrrhuloxia, a bird of the southwest, looks like a gray cardinal with an oversized beak. Vermilion Cardinal is found in northern South America, principally Columbia and Venezuela. &lt;/p&gt; Our Northern Cardinal has been through various scientific classifications and has had a variety of common names as we already know. It achieved its current common name designating it as "northern" in 1983. "Northern Cardinal" was intended to avoid confusion with seven other species which are also called cardinals, even though only one of those species is in the same genus. The only other cardinal which might be seen in North America is the Red-crested Cardinal which escapes regularly in Florida and California. &lt;/p&gt; Most people would be hard pressed to name any of those other cardinals, but to avoid confusion our cardinal is called "northern," because it is abundant in the South of North America. Confused? What does bother me is the complete lack of imagination and poetry by the academics who decide on names, but that is another column. &lt;/p&gt; "Cardinal" comes from the Latin, cardinalis, meaning "important." The root meaning was originally "hinge," and evolved to mean "important" in the sense of something on which an object or idea depended, or hinged. Eventually "Cardinalis" came to designate an important (cardinal) church in Rome and a member of the College of Cardinals which elects the Pope. These high church officials wore (and wear) red robes and red hats. When the European colonists to North America encountered a bird with a red hat (crest) and red robes they called it "Cardinal," in spite of their generally Protestant and anti-Catholic tendencies. &lt;/p&gt; Bent summarizes the behavior of the cardinal this way: "In the cardinal we have a rare combination of good qualities, brilliant plumage, a rich and pleasing voice, beneficial food habits, and devotion to its mate and family." &lt;/p&gt; There are many stories about how solicitous the male is toward his mate, how tirelessly he cares for his family, and how strong is the instinct to care for and feed the young. The male has been described as a model husband and father. &lt;/p&gt; There is the story of a pair of cardinals which lost its nest. They rebuilt. While the female incubated, the male began feeding four young robins, being as attentive as the robin parents. When his brood finally hatched, he fed both his own young and the robins? young. &lt;/p&gt; And then there is the photograph in the National Geographic "Song and Garden Birds of North America" which shows a cardinal feeding goldfish: "Hungry goldfish crowd the edge of a backyard pool in North Carolina as a cardinal passes out tidbits of food. For days the bird followed this strange routine. Alighting on the pool fence, he chirped. As the seven goldfish gathered, he fluttered down and began to feed them. In their eagerness they almost leaped from the water. Food gone, the bird flew off for more. Perhaps this foster parent had lost his own brood." &lt;/p&gt; But, I suspect that DNA studies will show, if they haven't already, that cardinals, male and female, are just as free with their favors as are most other species, and that neither are models of marital fidelity. Most broods of most songbird species are genetically diverse. The female has cheated on her mate, and unless there are a lot of free roaming bachelors around, the likelihood is that the male has cheated on his mate as well. I would be surprised if the cardinal were any different. &lt;/p&gt; When we have a bird we really like, we tend to accentuate its "virtues" and over look less desirable traits. This is especially true with the cardinal. The male cardinal is fiercely territorial. He and will attack any potential rival, and, as I just suggested, probably for good reason. He is so paranoid about the presence of another male in his territory that he will attack that male relentlessly. Sometimes the male attacks his own reflection in a window. For several summers we had a resident male who, day in and day out, banged against a bedroom window in a futile attempt to drive away the rival male. Such jealous rage betrays obvious insecurity about the fidelity of his mate. He was so persistent that it is a wonder he didn't break his own neck, or otherwise do himself damage. &lt;/p&gt; Many people tell me they don't like Blue Jays because they are bullies and chase away the smaller birds. But watch your resident cardinal. Like most writers, Bent is admiring of the cardinal and only reluctantly reports their truculent side: "Although amiable at times, the cardinal is generally mildly dominant at feeding stations and sometimes decidedly belligerent ...." &lt;/p&gt; I watched my resident cardinal at the feeder this morning. "Belligerent" is a good adjective to describe his interaction with the smaller sparrows on the ground. On one occasion, he even turned a Blue Jay timid. &lt;/p&gt; Looking through my photographs of the cardinal, I do not have any where the cardinal is sharing the bird feeder amiably with other birds. He has sent them away. I have one winter photo with the cardinal on the tray of the bird feeder. It is snowing heavily. The white pines in the background are almost white with accumulated snow. On top of the feeder, looking timidly over the eave are three pigeons. Pigeons are big birds, roughly twice the size and four times the weight of a cardinal. But Mr. Cardinal was in no mood to share his feeder. They had to wait their turn. &lt;/p&gt; I love the cardinal. He is gorgeous (so is she). He is hardy; you have to admire a creature that doesn't flee south just because of a little snow and cold. He is a survivor. &lt;/p&gt; But what I love most about the cardinal is that he and she sing any time during the year, even on a snowy day in January. You have to love that. &lt;/p&gt; Good birding! &lt;/p&gt;  Chris Petrak is a birding hobbyist who lives in South Newfane. Photos of the birds he writes about can be seen at  www.tailsofbirding.net . Contact him by e-mail:  chrsptrk@svcable.net .  &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;/p&gt;</fulltext>
      <pubDate>Fri Nov 14 08:05:55 UTC 2008</pubDate>
      <author>Reformer.com</author>
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      <title>Forcing bulbs</title>
      <link>http://www.reformer.com/columnists/ci_10971964?source=rss</link>
      <description>&lt;![CDATA[Thursday, November 13 CORNISH FLAT, N.H. Winter, I regret to inform you, is here.]]&gt;</description>
      <fulltext>Thursday, November 13  CORNISH FLAT, N.H. &lt;/p&gt; Winter, I regret to inform you, is here. &lt;/p&gt; No, not by the calendar. But it's cold and raw outside and it gets dark early, and I've taken out my long johns and flannel-lined jeans. So I say it's winter. We'll all get used to it, but I doubt we'll see a shorts and t-shirt day until April. That's nearly half a year. &lt;/p&gt; No wonder Karen wants us to move to California. There is much we can to avoid the winter blues, however. Planting bulbs for forcing is one of them, and now is the time to do it. &lt;/p&gt; Tulips are an impossible dream for many gardeners. Planted in the fall, the bulbs are eaten by rodents during the winter. Or if they come up in the spring and are ready to bloom, the deer arrive and have them for pre-dinner appetizers. But if you grow them indoors, you can enjoy their splendor -- and enjoy them while there is still snow on the ground. &lt;/p&gt; Here is what you need to do: buy some tulip bulbs, plant them in a large pot and keep the pot in a cool dark location for 16 weeks. But you need to read the packages carefully. Always buy bulbs that are labeled "Early Spring." Mid-season or late-season tulip colors may make you swoon, but if you want tulips for forcing indoors, pick early blooming ones. The same goes for daffodils and other bulbs, although those only require a 12 week cool period. &lt;/p&gt; Instead of planting tulips or daffies 6-8 inches deep -- the way you should outdoors -- plant their little pointy noses just beneath the soil surface of your pot. I make up a mix for forcing bulbs using 50 percent compost and 50 percent potting soil that comes in a bag. Or I'll make a 50-50 mix of sandy garden soil and compost, and add some perlite to lighten it up. The planting soil should be lightly moist at planting time, but not soggy or else the bulbs may rot. &lt;/p&gt; There is no need to leave space between bulbs for future offsets (bulblets) to grow, nor do you need to fertilize them. These bulbs are going to be used once in the pot, then either tossed out (tulips) or planted outside (daffodils). Squeeze as many as possible in the pot for a good display -- plant them shoulder to shoulder. &lt;/p&gt; I plant our window box with daffodils each fall, then bring the box inside to store it in our chilly basement. Ideally you will find a place that is between 32 and 50 degrees. If you have a garage or entryway that is protected but not heated, or if you have a cellar bulkhead, you probably have the right conditions. &lt;/p&gt; I've read that you can keep bulbs in the fridge for 12 weeks, then plant them in pots and bring into the warmth immediately -- but who wants tulip bulbs in the fridge for three months? &lt;/p&gt; Forced bulbs can survive if the temperature goes a little below freezing, but they won't survive in a pot outdoors. One year, as an experiment, I planted the window box with daffodil bulbs and left it on the deck, but the box got too cold and all the bulbs were ruined. &lt;/p&gt; Most homes are prone to occasional rodent incursions in winter, so it probably makes sense to protect your bulbs. I once had all my tulips, crocus and scilla dug up and eaten -- in the basement. So cover the pots with wire screen, but be careful: after cutting wire mesh it can have razor sharp edges. Daffodils are poisonous to rodents, so they are not interested in eating them. &lt;/p&gt; Check on your sleeping beauties from time to time throughout the winter. The soil shouldn't get totally dried out, so some years I give my pots a light sprinkle of water in mid-winter. &lt;/p&gt; And wait at least 12 weeks before bringing forced bulbs up into the house -- even if they send up shoots. When the time is up, put them in sunny window and watch them develop. &lt;/p&gt; If you long for spring blossoms and can't wait for your forced bulbs, get some paperwhites. These fragrant beauties are in the daffodil family, and are ready for action on day one. Instead of planting them in soil, most people just arrange them so they sit on small stones in a bowl of water. Let the bottom of the bulb just kiss the water, and in a day or two roots will extend down into the water. &lt;/p&gt; For best results, let the roots and shoots develop in the dark for a week, and then place them on a sunny window sill. &lt;/p&gt; Paperwhites, for me, vary considerably in how long they take to blossom. I've had them bloom in a month, but six weeks is probably average; I've had to wait eight weeks on occasion. Once in bloom they are very fragrant and look good for a number of weeks, and I like them even after they have passed their peak. &lt;/p&gt; These bulbs are not for outdoor planting here -- they are only hardy to Zone 8 or 9 plant -- so when they are finished, just toss them in the compost. &lt;/p&gt; So don't despair. Spring is only six months away. And we can have blossoms even sooner. &lt;/p&gt;  Henry Homeyer is the author of 3 gardening books. He may be reached at P.O. Box 364, Cornish Flat, NH 03746 or at  henry.homeyer@comcast.net . His Web Site is  www.Gardening -Guy.com.  &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;/p&gt;</fulltext>
      <pubDate>Thu Nov 13 08:09:48 UTC 2008</pubDate>
      <author>Reformer.com</author>
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      <title>Break down the walls</title>
      <link>http://www.reformer.com/columnists/ci_10961903?source=rss</link>
      <description>&lt;![CDATA[Wednesday, November 12 What does this mean, the first African American president?]]&gt;</description>
      <fulltext>Wednesday, November 12  What does this mean, the first African American president? Well, in a word, it's huge. This really does signify to me that this country we live in -- America -- has turned the corner. It tells me that we are able (at least a majority of us) to draw judgment based on what's being said and not who's saying it. So when 11 p.m. hit on Nov. 4, and they turned California, Oregon and Washington blue, I'm not ashamed to admit I shed a tear. I was filled with pride that this nation that I've been so critical of for the past eight years finally stepped up and did the right thing. But moreover, this was a part of history. &lt;/p&gt; On Nov. 5, 2004, George W. Bush, having squeaked out the last election with 286 electoral votes and 51 percent of the vote, declared a mandate to move this country forward. So I ask, what does 364 electoral votes and 53 percent of the vote give you? Honestly, it gives you the same thing that Bush had, and that is the presidency, and the hope that people will act upon your words. The last president that had a "clear" mandate was Lyndon B. Johnson, when in 1964 he captured something like 61 percent of the vote. But they all have one thing in common, mandate or not, they are the elected and it's up to us to believe or not believe in them. &lt;/p&gt; Now it's up to us. We have to help lead this nation forward; we have to get back to uniting and not dividing. To quote another great president, "Ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for your country." It's true, and when things get tough, it's one of the first things we forget. We withdraw and retreat to self-serving; granted with the way things have been going there's been nothing else we could do, because we didn't have faith that anyone had our backs. Well, we've got this fresh start coming on Jan. 20. What are we going to do with it? What we should do is start helping one another again. It can be as simple as volunteering your time to our local food shelves, raising money for the heat fund, getting involved in a youth program ... something, anything, it all helps. I think when President-elect Barack Obama says we need to chip in and work together, I really believe that this is the kind of thing he is talking about. &lt;/p&gt; One thing that the McCain campaign brought to the forefront was something Obama said to Joe the Plumber: "We're going to spread the wealth around." Now to the staunch conservative that meant bad things were going to happen to rich people and everybody else was going to get a free ride. Well, for the past eight years the middle class has been crushed to death, taxed to within an inch of their lives, and just when you thought it wasn't going to get any worse gas shot up over $4 a gallon. So it's a simple concept, tax the wealthiest a little more and the middle class a little less. It makes sense to me because trickle down economics just didn't work. So it's time to see if it can trickle up, whether that will get the bills paid. Because when one percent of the people hold 33 percent of the wealth, how are they expected to "trickle" it down to 99 percent of the folks and that doesn't even factor in greed, just logistics. &lt;/p&gt; Today marks a week of change. What have you changed? Have you started to think about what you could be doing? Are you doing it? Put it out there, pay it forward and push this country into a better place. Change has been elected, not erected, we still need to build. The good news is we've got some momentum so let's not slow down people, our work has only just begun. Don't look back in two years having done nothing and ask, what the hell is up with that? &lt;/p&gt;  Fish is the morning talent on Classic Hits 92.7 FM. He also offers up his opinion on-line at  www.whatdahell.net . E-mail him at  fish@wkvt.com .  &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;/p&gt;</fulltext>
      <pubDate>Wed Nov 12 08:01:22 UTC 2008</pubDate>
      <author>Reformer.com</author>
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      <title>Solar water heating</title>
      <link>http://www.reformer.com/columnists/ci_10953921?source=rss</link>
      <description>&lt;![CDATA[Tuesday, November 11 Brattleboro is fortunate to have a long history with solar water heating.]]&gt;</description>
      <fulltext>Tuesday, November 11  Brattleboro is fortunate to have a long history with solar water heating. When I moved to the area in 1980, the company Solar Applications had been installing solar hot water systems for five years, and a spin-off company, Solar Alternatives, was manufacturing quality flat-plate solar collectors -- many of which are still in use in the area. While Solar Alternatives closed down in the 1980s with falling energy prices and the end of solar tax credits, Solar Applications has continued to install and service solar water heating systems for more than 30 years. &lt;/p&gt; Frenchman Alain Ratteau, who founded Solar Applications in 1975, sold his company this year to Andy Cay, and it has been renamed Integrated Solar Applications. When interest in solar waned in the mid-80s, my friend Alain shifted most of his focus to oil or gas space heating (specializing in the more sophisticated systems), but I was always impressed that he maintained the company name Solar Applications and maintained a deep commitment to renewables. Alain works with the new company and is helping to establish it as a premier provider of not just solar water heating systems, but also solar space-heating, solar-electric, micro-hydro, wind, and biomass. Visit the company on Spring Tree Road (past the Marina Restaurant). &lt;/p&gt; Most solar water heating systems consist of one or more flat-plate collectors mounted on a roof or separate rack through which potable water or another heat-transfer fluid is pumped. This fluid circulates to a storage tank where the solar-heated fluid passes through a heat exchanger to heat water in the tank. With "closed-loop" systems, the heat-transfer fluid -- usually a mix of water and nontoxic propylene glycol antifreeze--remains in the collector all the time. In other systems, referred to as "drainback systems," plain water is used in the collector, and when the collector gets too cold, the water drains back into a small tank in the house. &lt;/p&gt; Other systems operate passively by "thermosiphoning" (the principle that heated water rises naturally). With this approach, more common in warmer climates, potable water in the collector naturally circulates into a storage tank located above the collector. &lt;/p&gt; A fairly recent option with some solar water heaters is a solar-electric (photovoltaic) panel to power the circulation pump. In this case, the PV panel serves as both the pump's energy source and the controller. When the sun is shining and the PV panel is generating electricity, the pump operates and water is heated; when there isn't enough sunlight to power the circulator pump, the solar water heater shuts down -- it's a simple control system. &lt;/p&gt; No matter what type of solar water heating system is used, in our climate it is generally used as a "preheater" for a conventional water heater--which can be either a storage-type water heater or an on-demand (tankless) water heater. The standard water heater, which could be electric or gas-fired, boosts the water temperature as needed. &lt;/p&gt; Don't expect a solar water heater to provide all your hot water. A well-designed and properly sized system in our climate may provide all of the summertime hot water, but it is likely to provide less than half of what you need during the winter months. Some homeowners combine solar water heating with a heat exchanger in a wood stove--so that they're heating their water primarily with renewable energy sources year-round. &lt;/p&gt; To maximize the percent of hot water your family can obtain from the sun, it's important to conserve hot water use: install low-flow showerheads and faucet aerators; insulate your hot-water pipes; buy a top-efficiency dishwasher and only wash full loads; and consider washing clothes in cold water. &lt;/p&gt; Installers of solar hot water systems in the area include Integrated Solar Applications in Brattleboro (802-257-7493), Gary MacArthur in Marlboro (802-257-7026), John Kondos of Home-Efficiency Resources in Spofford (603-363-4505,  www.home -effiency.com), Green Energy Options in Keene (603-358-3444), and the Greenfield Solar Store (413-772-3122;  www.greenfieldsolarstore.com ). Somewhat farther afield are groSolar in White River Junction (802-374-4494,  www.grosolar.com ) and Solar Works, Inc. in Montpelier (800-339-7804,  www.solarworksinc.com ). &lt;/p&gt;  Alex Wilson is president of BuildingGreen, LLC in Brattleboro, coauthor of the Consumer Guide to Home Energy Savings (9th edition, 2007) and author of Your Green Home (2006). He is also chair of the Dummerston Energy Committee and a board member of Brattleboro Thermal Utility.  &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;/p&gt;</fulltext>
      <pubDate>Tue Nov 11 08:02:47 UTC 2008</pubDate>
      <author>By ALEX WILSON</author>
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      <title>From abomination to Obama Nation</title>
      <link>http://www.reformer.com/columnists/ci_10933713?source=rss</link>
      <description>&lt;![CDATA[Saturday, November 8 To loosely quote soon-to-be First Lady Michelle Obama, this is the first time I can remember being truly proud of my country.]]&gt;</description>
      <fulltext>Saturday, November 8  To loosely quote soon-to-be First Lady Michelle Obama, this is the first time I can remember being truly proud of my country. &lt;/p&gt; As I watched Obama and his beautiful family walk onto the stage at Grant Park in Chicago for his acceptance speech, I was sincerely overcome with emotion and excitement, and felt an eerie connection with the American flag that I did not recognize. &lt;/p&gt; Somewhere inside my busy brain, there was another thought flittering: what am I going to think about now? &lt;/p&gt; This election has been going on forever, and I've been following it since Fred Thompson was still languidly lounging around on the Republican stage. &lt;/p&gt; As I considered the options for what would now occupy my brain, the answer became quite clear, and the relief I had felt was numbed slightly. Only one part of this is over. Now, thank God, we all have the next eight years to think about. &lt;/p&gt; The pressure is on. We've gotten what we wanted, and now I hope Barack Obama can do this. And I honestly, honestly think he can. What makes it scary for me are the towering expectations he faces. &lt;/p&gt; Pretty much nothing could look as ugly as the last eight years, but the name Obama is now so synonymous with two words that I'm sure even if I didn't write them you'd know which ones I was referring to. (Hint: One starts with an "h," the other starts with "c." Yup, you've got them.) &lt;/p&gt; The reason that these words, which are basically tired out after this election, have been so important to his campaign is because after the last eight years they are what the American people are begging for. &lt;/p&gt; And, if the global celebrations that ensued after his victory was announced are any indication, there are a few more countries eager for this stuff, too. I think that he can definitely fulfill both of these promises to at least some extent, but some people I've encountered seem almost ignorant in their expectations. &lt;/p&gt; I'm guessing Barack Obama will not single-handedly initiate a state of world peace in less than a decade. More realistically, he'll plow through somewhere around half of the goals he has set for his country, perhaps nearly all. &lt;/p&gt; If he could even get through about one fourth of them, our entire world will be a much happier place. &lt;/p&gt; It is also important to acknowledge that even if Obama does fall short of some of his promises, he has already accomplished some massive feats. &lt;/p&gt; No one can argue that the record numbers in voter turnout this year, especially among younger voters, should be attributed to the excitement that Obama generated as a candidate. &lt;/p&gt; Also, he is a black man, and he was just elected president of the United States of America. That sure isn't anything to sneeze at. &lt;/p&gt; In his acceptance speech, Barack Obama spoke about how to make America the country we hope to become through unity and a "new spirit of patriotism," and of the need for "service and responsibility" by people working both for this country and its citizens. He reminded us that we "rise or fall as one nation." &lt;/p&gt; I believe that these were important statements since, although we are placing a humongous amount of responsibility in this man's hands, we all as citizens of this country have to share in this responsibility. &lt;/p&gt; I'm not trying to sound like a military recruitment ad or anything, but you cannot think that in casting your vote (which you hopefully did if you were of age) you have done all you need to do to help strengthen your country and insure that things will go in the direction you want them. &lt;/p&gt; If you have huge expectations for President Obama, remember that maybe you should have some expectations for yourself. &lt;/p&gt; In his speech, Obama also said, "The road ahead will be long. Our climb will be steep. We may not get there in one year or even one term, but America -- I have never been more hopeful than I am tonight that we will get there. I promise you -- we as a people will get there." &lt;/p&gt; By the end of that stunning speech, how could anyone not believe him? I know I do. &lt;/p&gt;  Kim Butts is a junior at Brattleboro Union High School. Her column appears monthly. You can contact her at  kimbutts@svcable.net .   &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;/p&gt;</fulltext>
      <pubDate>Sat Nov 08 08:03:45 UTC 2008</pubDate>
      <author>BRATTLEBORO</author>
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      <title>Glittering, romantic winter</title>
      <link>http://www.reformer.com/columnists/ci_4429195?source=rss</link>
      <description> Monday, October 2   Winter. Think it, and if you're the romantic type, the world turns bright with snow that sparkles -- just as the snow in a Grandma Moses painting sparkles. It actually glitters, from glitter. You know, those decorative silvery flakes they sell in crafts stores.]]&gt;</description>
      <fulltext>Monday, October 2   Editor's note: The Reformer has been publishing winners in the second annual Write Action Literary Contest. The theme this year is winter. Below, is the first-place winner's submission  &lt;/p&gt; Winter. Think it, and if you're the romantic type, the world turns bright with snow that sparkles -- just as the snow in a Grandma Moses painting sparkles. It actually glitters, from glitter. You know, those decorative silvery flakes they sell in crafts stores. You can see them in the original paintings sprinkled over the trees and fields. And if you're still not sure, read the nameplate next to the painting that describes the medium as "Oil and Glitter on Canvas." &lt;/p&gt; It surprised me to learn that Grandma Moses would enhance her winter scenes with glitter. She was truly an original. But what surprises me more about a Moses painting is all the people -- and all of them outdoors. Rather than country landscapes undisturbed by human activity, a Moses painting is swarming with men, women, and children. Out in the weather. In all the seasons, even winter. As though they belonged there. As though it was natural for them to be there among the hills and fields and flowers, and streams. Among the horses, cows, sheep, and turkeys. &lt;/p&gt; In a Moses painting, the human race appears to be a busy outdoor species -- splitting and stacking wood, hauling pails of milk, plowing the garden, hanging clothes to dry, pitching hay, harvesting apples, maple sugaring. But also dancing, climbing trees, pitching baseballs and snowballs, ice skating, sledding. Everyone bending and lifting and hauling and stretching using the native strength and grace of arms and backs and muscular legs. &lt;/p&gt; The body, moving under its own power, is the most perfect engine on earth. It gives back in well-being what it does in work. Thus, Moses people appear to be healthy, convivial creatures who have a spirit for living. The poet Wallace Stevens writes: &lt;/p&gt;  What is there here but weather, what spirit   &lt;/p&gt;  Have I except it comes from the sun?  &lt;/p&gt; Both Stevens and Grandma Moses convey in their art the idea that human creatures are closely connected with nature, that we are not only  in  nature but  of  nature. Granted, Stevens' lines are poetry, and fiction. And the paintings of Grandma Moses are in the primitive mode, and are unrealistic (there is no unhappiness and it never rains). Still, their view of a connected world is a true one. &lt;/p&gt; The natural world is in us. We are composed mainly of oxygen, carbon, hydrogen, and nitrogen. We are fire and air and earth and water. We are a microcosm within the large, magnificent cosmic thing. We are that part of the cosmos that talks and sings and often wears colorful scarves. We fall in love, too. &lt;/p&gt; From some reports, love happens outdoors mostly -- while ice skating, or taking a stroll on a country lane. My son proposed to his wife when they were hiking up a mountain trail. He had always known he loved her. But, he said, it was the way on that day she moved among the swaying pines as the sun filtered down on her that caused his heart to swell and the words to spill out. &lt;/p&gt; In the legendary land of Camelot (as depicted in the popular musical) the noble knight is smitten, not by the queen as she sits on her velvet throne, but by the fair queen out in the weather. How can he leave his love in summer, he croons, when her hair is streaked with sunlight? Or in autumn, when she sparkles from the brisk, fresh air? And never, never in winter, he wails, when he beholds his royal darling running merrily through the snow. I think it is safe to say that the knight would not have been provoked to such a lyrical outburst had the queen spent her waking hours inside the castle where nary a sunbeam or summer breeze could work its magic on her. &lt;/p&gt; All this would suggest that, in our efforts to make ourselves attractive to a mate, rather than take a trip to the hair salon or work out on an exercise machine, we simply become part of the landscape and let nature transform us into creatures worthy of love: Weed the cabbage patch and let the wind tussle our locks. Paddle a canoe and let the sun gild our biceps. &lt;/p&gt; This week I am going snowshoeing with a new-found friend. We will be two clean-running engines traveling silently through a hushed and tranquil wood. It will be a beautiful way to spend the afternoon. And, if a ray of sun should fall across my face just right, or if he should move his limbs like the branches of an undulating pine tree ... Well, who knows what might happen? &lt;/p&gt;     Martha Nelson writes from Dummerston.   &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;/p&gt;</fulltext>
      <pubDate>Mon Oct 02 11:07:06 UTC 2006</pubDate>
      <author>By MARTHA NELSON</author>
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      <title>Blame it on the rain (and snow, cold and heat)</title>
      <link>http://www.reformer.com/columnists/ci_4429194?source=rss</link>
      <description> Monday, October 2    CORNISH FLAT, N.H.  -  Being a gardener can be a humbling experience. As the name of my Web site,  www.gardening -guy.com, says, I fancy myself a gardening guy.    Some years I struggle not to think of myself the czar of zucchinis or the King Tut of tomatoes. Not this year.]]&gt;</description>
      <fulltext>Monday, October 2  CORNISH FLAT, N.H. &lt;/p&gt; Being a gardener can be a humbling experience. As the name of my Web site,  www.gardening -guy.com, says, I fancy myself a gardening guy. &lt;/p&gt; Some years I struggle not to think of myself the czar of zucchinis or the King Tut of tomatoes. Not this year. This year I've had a lot less than perfect success. But I try not to focus on mistakes and failures. &lt;/p&gt; The season started off with weeks of rain, soggy soils, grey skies. As usual, I started my seedlings indoors in early April. But I couldn't get them in the ground as early I'd have liked -- my garden was often swimming. Even though I use raised beds, the ground stayed cold and wet through much of June. &lt;/p&gt; Eventually I planted, but by then some of my plants had decided this wasn't their year, and just dozed all summer. The sun often hid behind a mask of gloom. Even in midsummer we never had any real hot days, the kind people like to complain about. &lt;/p&gt; By mid-September, I still had too many unripe tomatoes, and frost was looming just over the horizon. I won't be making ketchup this year, or much sauce. &lt;/p&gt; All the cool wet weather was perfect for encouraging fungal diseases. Many of my full sized tomatoes developed rotten spots. Unheard of. &lt;/p&gt; My Sungold cherry tomatoes produced fairly well, but kept dropping unripe tomatoes on the ground. And my peppers? Forget about them. Even my mildly hot Hungarian wax peppers that usually produce in huge numbers (in the comfort of my unheated hoop house) produced very little. &lt;/p&gt; I remind myself that I am not the only one who has had a bad year. At the farmers markets of the region, gardeners have been seen buying zucchinis. Lurking around, whispering furtively, "Hey man, you know where I can score some zukes?" I haven't heard a single zucchini joke this year. And people aren't locking their cars this year to prevent friends from depositing bags of those large green missiles in the back seat. &lt;/p&gt; Pumpkins? I don't have one decent carving pumpkin, and just a few cooking pumpkins. My cukes look like half-inflated balloons: full diameter at one end, scrawny at the other. &lt;/p&gt; So, what has done well this year? &lt;/p&gt; We had a bumper crop of blackberries, and blueberries have been splendid. Those successes can be attributed, I think, to plenty of rain following a mild winter. Fruit buds are set the summer before, and cold weather in winter can kill those buds. Maybe global warming is not such a bad thing. Maybe I should buy an SUV. &lt;/p&gt; And potatoes have done quite well for us. We have harvested almost four 5-gallon pails of spuds from 35 feet of potato beds. Not great, but we won't suffer. &lt;/p&gt; Broccoli, cabbages and lettuce have done well. They like cool, moist conditions, and sunshine is less important to them than some other veggies. &lt;/p&gt; On July 29, I planted red meat radishes, a mild fall radish with a pink interior, and they have done well. These radishes (available from Johnny's Select Seeds,  www.Johnnyseeds.com  or (877) 564-6697) stay tender and tasty even if they get as large as baseballs, and I will let a few do just that. &lt;/p&gt; I planted purple cauliflower from seed, one that I got from Renee's Garden Seeds ( www.reneesgarden.com  or (888) 880-7228) and it produced gorgeous heads. Not as tender or large as traditional cauliflower, but it's worth growing just for the added color in the garden. &lt;/p&gt; Flowers this year have been okay. The season started in February with snowdrops popping up around Valentine's Day. I cut the buds, tiny though they were, and brought them inside to use as arrangements in miniature vases. Get some now, and plant on a south-facing hillside where the snow melts early, if you wish to have an early-season morale booster. &lt;/p&gt; I planted some double snowdrops last fall thinking that they would be extra special, but was disappointed: since the blossoms look down, they really don't look much different than the singles, and not worth a premium price. &lt;/p&gt; By the first week in August, I recorded that I had 75 species of flowers in bloom (including about a dozen annuals). But some were struggling. The blankety-blank lily leaf beetles, those bright red lily terrorists, had started to win: hand picking twice a day was not enough. My Oriental and Asiatic lilies were being devastated. &lt;/p&gt; I give up. From here on in, I'll not be buying anymore lilies. I will continue to pick the beetles next year, and maybe with different conditions, I will hold them off. &lt;/p&gt; Zinnias, on the other hand, are sure winners, no matter what. I grew the Benary's series, both the mixed colors and the lime green one. These zinnias are 3 to 5 feet tall, bloom from midsummer till frost, and are long lasting in a vase. &lt;/p&gt; So if you're discouraged by your gardening efforts this summer, don't be. Blame everything on the weather. All of us suffered some defeats, and more this year than most. Focus on your successes. &lt;/p&gt; Send me an E-mail or letter if you like, and let me know what worked for you (or what didn't), and what you did to make your garden grow better. Next year has gotta be better. &lt;/p&gt;     Henry Homeyer is the Vermont/New Hampshire associate editor of "People, Places and Plants" magazine. Write him at  gardening.guy@valley.net  or P.O. Box 364, Cornish Flat, NH 03746.  &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;/p&gt;</fulltext>
      <pubDate>Mon Oct 02 11:06:26 UTC 2006</pubDate>
      <author>Henry Homeyer</author>
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