When you buy blackberry plants, they come in what’s called “bare root” form — that means each plant is basically a root and a tiny stem, maybe 2 or 3 inches long. Or at least that’s what mine looked like. They were kind of pathetic. And they didn’t graduate to being much more than that for many years.

Now, look at what has become of the three bare-root Darrow plants I purchased in September 2013:

Poking around yesterday and bringing in the beginnings of our harvest, I made a few interesting discoveries. First, I found a bird’s nest, made mostly of straw, tucked away neatly within the barbed vines.

And then, another bird’s nest — this one made from sticks.

In all of these pictures you’ve seen lots of green and red berries, but where are the black ones? Oh, you have to look around and, inevitably, they’ll be hiding JUST out of reach.

I decided to leave those to the birds. But I was able to pluck a few — standing on a chair, carefully weaving my arm through the vines, and getting caught on the briars all the same. Then, just as I’d think I’d gotten them all, I’d spot another juicy-looking specimen behind a leaf. That, of course, made me wonder how many others I was missing, so I’d peer at them some more, taking new vantage points in hopes of a ripe one catching my eye.

I remember having adventures like this with my grandmother in East Texas, where we’d go off picking wild dewberries and bringing them back (whatever was left, anyway) for a dewberry cobbler. That’s why I planted these — wanting to have my own little surprise moments of discovery. And the blackberries seem to thrive in the heat of our summers.

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So it appears it’s been more than a year since I’ve updated this site. Oh, so busy. I’ll dispense with the excuses and begin with the updates…

1. My automatic watering system is no more, through no fault of its own. That’s because a hose-end system like mine is dependent on everything being super tight and tidy at the tap, but I never got it quite right and so, when I left the tap open — so the system could distribute the water — leaks abounded. I haven’t given up entirely, yet, as hubby promises he’ll “take a look” at this over the weekend. We will see!
2. I’m no longer making bread daily. Oh, if only it were possible. Honestly, my kids are nearly teenagers now and are much pickier about the size of their sandwich slices. It was a great experience and perhaps one I’ll incorporate into our lives again at some point.
3. My garden, however, is thriving. This year, we’ve got 3 raised beds on the go, and we’re working on: tomatoes (6-7 different varieties), Genovese basil, Thai basil, Japanese Eggplant, onions, sweet potatoes (mostly for the greens), cantaloupe, habanero and ghost peppers (not doing very well, sadly, but mostly growing them for the experience), and a little perennial herb section featuring sage, oregano, thyme and tarragon. Meanwhile, the blackberry bed is growing like gangbusters and the little peach tree is actually bearing 2 or 3 fruits.
4. The off-brand power-blender is still going strong, although I dropped the canister at some point and had to order a new one from the original seller. Worked like a charm, though, and was thrilled to find the original seller still on eBay!
5. The baby goats are now full grown and as ornery as you’d expect goats to be. They like to terrorize the dogs, especially a certain little one that has come to join our family recently. I haven’t yet bred our doe, Dulcinea, as I’ve not been ready to commit to a once- or twice-a-day milking schedule, but it’s still a possibility for the future. The short-term goal with the goats is to keep them from eating our house. Easier said than done!

And now, without further ado, some pics of some of the recent action hereabouts.

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The cacti are flowering, the blackberry bush is budding out, and there’s a baby peach (I believe) on the tree. This year, I’m growing heirloom tomatoes and herbs — and that’s it, so far. I’ve set out a couple of containers — one with a fig tree and another with native flowering plants, and they seem to be doing quite well. There’s not much else to report about from the garden — I just haven’t been spending the time on it this year.

Meanwhile, I finally got a definitive answer on the identity of that mysterious tree. But, unfortunately, what I discovered was that it’s considered an invasive species. It’s a Bradford Pear, a sub-species of the Callery Pear, or Pyrus calleryana. Oh, well… I’ll enjoy it as long as it lasts, I suppose.

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After two frustrating delays, we were afraid to even believe we’d ever get our baby goats. But it’s been a whirlwind week full of lots of bleating and, finally, first-hand experience.

We had to drive 1 1/2 hours on the dreaded Interstate to meet the breeder in the parking lot of a farm and ranch store. Of course, we were running late, as I was trying to squeeze too much in and attended our property owners’ association’s annual members meeting — where I planned to advocate for laying hens in keeping with my big campaign. I had to duck out before it was finished (who knew it would go 2 hours+?), handing off my survey print-outs and post-it notes to an ally.

Turning to the matter at hand, I drove near the quite high speed limit the whole way, fingers gripping the steering wheel as I managed the ever-changing lanes being shaped by construction crews. To give you a sense of this experience, keep in mind that the reduced speed limit in the frequent construction sections was 60 mph. All along the way, I glanced in the rear-view mirror regularly, constantly fearful that the dog kennels we’d strapped in would fly off and cause a multi-car collision.

When we finally arrived and found the truck carrying our precious cargo, the transition was swift, as the breeder and her family members seemed eager to be on their way — understandable since we were running late, after all. And there we were — responsible for two new baby goats, which turned out to be much smaller than I’d expected. The feeling was not unlike leaving the hospital with a new baby in a car seat, where you halfway want to ask the nurses if they’re certain they want to let you leave with this tiny creature — because you have absolutely no idea what you’re doing.

We relaxed much more on the way home and Google Maps even helped me find a much more pleasant route home, which got us off the dreaded Interstate much more quickly.

Still feeling like we had no clue, my youngest son and I wrangled the little beasts into their newly-constructed pen. At first, they were super fearful, taking shelter inside their little dog house and refusing to come out. But before long they were showing their true nature, jumping on top and checking out their new surroundings.

More to come, of course, in the coming days and weeks as we all settle in.

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