The Ballad of Frick and Frack

Frick and Frack

Warning! Cuteness Overload! And, perhaps a bit of sadness.

I write the following today to remember a great love and friendship before it has time to pass from my mind, as most things do as we move on in life. Pictured to the right are Frick and Frack. It really doesn't matter who "Frick" or "Frack" is. What is important is that tender, and rare, relationship between cat and dog who find each other at the right time.

Frick and Frack at rest. A rare moment.

We didn't do this by design. That would have been far too easy and somewhat impossible. This relationship was completely by chance. It just worked. Somehow, it just worked. The decade that followed was pure magic.

The dog, Bandana, a "Heinz 57" mix of herding breeds, was discovered on a working horse ranch in Southern Oregon. His owner, Tenaya Yager, made the painful decision to part with him during our 2010 visit. Lenny, the Maine Coon cat, was a gift from Mary Beth Barber. She discovered a litter of feral kittens in the sub-basment beneath her Sacramento home in 2011. She rescued them and bottle-fed and cared for each one before presenting Lenny as a gift.

The Kiss

The cats that my ex-wife, Venus, and I had at home never did care for Bandana after we brought her home. That is a kind way of describing it. Outright revolt, revulsion and disowning us as cat owners would be a more correct description. But all of that changed a year after adopting Bandana when we opened our home to Lenny. One lick from Bandana was all it took, and the legend of Frick and Frack was born. The two immediately fell in love with one another and were constant companions and partners in crime. They never left each other's side.

I thank the Good Lord that digital photography came into vogue by 2011. Otherwise, we would have enriched the makers of Kodak or Polaroid film by another million bucks or two. Frick and Frack would come to dominate photos and social media postings over the next decade. Who could possibly ignore that cuteness overload? The two would get into one adorable pose after another, usually around dinner or snack time. Or, if they wanted something we were eating at the dinner table. Which is usually what Frick and Frack did at dinner time 365 days a year. These two had discovered a couple of human SUCKERS, and took full advantage of it.

Frack on Frick

Here is a photo of Frick and Frack on the couch. Or a photo of Frick and Frack on the floor. Oh look! Frick and Frack are curled up on the bed together! Here are Frick and Frack outside, checking out the garden. "Is that dog lying on top of that cat???" This is a common question we received on Facebook, Twitter, Google or any other place we deposited multitudes of pet photos. "Why yes she is," came our response. "Pay no mind," we would respond. "They just want snacks." What we didn't say is that most of the time Frick and Frack were rewarded with any snack they wanted.

Did You Say Snacks?

If these two partners in pet crime weren't in one adorable pose or another, they were usually putting on one of their typical Battle Royale rumbles in the living or dining room. It would start when Frack would chomp on Frick's fuzzy tail and pull on it like a tug toy, which ultimately resulted in a massive, full-claw return swat from Frick. The battle was on. Or, sometimes it was Frick who put on his best Tiger Tank Surprise Attack from the rear, hitting Frack full-force when she wasn't looking or was peacefully sleeping. The battle, which never really ended between the two, was on again. The two proceeded to roll around on the floor for the next 5-10 minutes, usually knocking over whatever was in their path. Many chairs and even one Christmas tree met its demise when these two decided it was time for non-stop action.

Wandering the Garden

The battle took on a new form whenever we took Frack (the dog) for a walk. Frick would follow for awhile, but never lose sight of his home. It wasn't that he was scared, he just preferred to stay behind and plan his attack after Frack returned 30 minutes later. Frack always suspected that Frick would be up to something, waiting to unleash a surprise attack. Frick would never disappoint Frack, launching himself from underneath a bush, a parked car, from behind a pillar of bricks and, at least one time, with a flying leap from the roof. I have to admit, I was surprised with that mode of attack myself.

No matter how brutal the previous play session had been, Frick and Frack always made sure to position themselves into the most ridiculous and adorable pose possible after play time subsided and dinner time arrived. That's just who they were. They spent a lifetime irritating and loving one another. They were never apart. They were always by each other's side.

Chairs are for Frick and Frack

Did I mention how carefully they planned an assault on the vegetable garden AFTER Venus and I had carefully planted tomato plant starters on top of smelly fish heads? On the best garden advice available at the time? We came home the next day to find 16-tomato plants dug out of raised beds and a few paltry bits of those fish heads that we thought we had buried deeply enough to guard against theft. The culprits had dirty paws and full bellies. Frick and Frack had struck again. It was a team effort.

Stop here. Don't read any further. Because all good things do eventually come to a tragic end. I will keep this as short as I can.

Your bed? Not anymore!

As the years flew by, the play and antics subsided somewhat. Play time morphed into a lot of nap time for the both of them. But, they were still together. There came a point, however, where Bandana, the Frack, grew tired. A limp that developed after she had stumbled into a gopher hole worsened. Herding dogs like Border Collies, McNab Shepherds and Aussie Shepherds are very hyperactive as young adults. But when they begin to slide downhill, the end seems to take place very quickly. Bandana was no different. Frack passed in February of this year. I held her close as she took her last breath. I promised I would never forget the "Blonde Bombshell." The neighborhood children simply adored her.

Although I gave Frick all the love and attention I possibly could after losing his Frack, he followed a short time later. His last act was to crawl underneath my bed, where Frack had spent part of her final year. It's where he drew his last breath. That was yesterday. I'm a still a bit emotional at the moment, so please forgive me. I'm not going to bore you with all the visits to the veterinarian that took place and all the solutions that were prescribed over the last six months. Needless to say, none of them worked. It's tough to heal a broken heart.

Frick with his new Frack

I can only say that I tried my best to engage Frick. At one point I even adopted another Frack from the Bradshaw Animal Shelter in Sacramento County. It stopped Frick's slide. For a little while. But it wasn't enough. It wasn't the answer. I don't know if there was a solution. If there was one, I didn't find it.

We never forgot the kindness of both Tenaya and Mary Beth. They were reminded of the gifts they had bestowed every time a picture was posted on any social media account, which must have numbered in the hundreds through the years. We made sure that both saw each ridiculous Frick and Frack pose and moment.

"I talk about Bandana a lot," Tenaya admitted after calling to console me following Frack's passing last February. "The decision I made to give her to you was a validation of what I would become. I unite pets with people."

Marybeth also checked in to thank me for being a good cat "papa."

This relationship between dog and cat is not unique. Perhaps  you have been graced by a Frick and Frack in your lifetime. It is my sincere hope that you have. I have had no greather joy in life than to witness the love and joy that Frick and Frack demonstrated time and again. They are just memories now. Memories that I will never forget. I have to move on now. I will move on. But I will never forget.

Magical Piles!

Thorny Rose Bush Pile-THORNS!

It's right about this time -- during President's Day I guess -- when "piles" begin forming in the Bird Back 40. It starts with one pile. And pretty soon, there's two. Oh -- and where did that itty bitty third pile come from and how did it get so darn big so fast? And, before you know it, there's piles all over the Bird Back 40.

 

I call them "magical piles" because they appear to form overnight -- usually after a Saturday or Sunday. I suppose I could be the culprit behind these "piles." However, I usually like to place the blame on someone else. Why else would we keep a dog around? It's Bandi's fault! Of course!

 

Where Did That Big Pile Come From? DOG!!!

Mystery solved my friends.

 

These piles are forming now because Bill Bird spent a wee bit too much of his time during those Autumn Sundays to watch an NFL game or three. The 49ers are suddenly the rage of the NFL again. I blame these piles on the exciting and unorthodox play of a one Colin Kaepernick!

 

Cut back the rose bushes? Nah! Perish the thought! CK7 is on! Clean out the artichoke beds? Are you kidding? Did you see that play Eric Reid made?

 

Two More Piles? They're Multiplying!

The President's Day holiday is a gardener's holiday for those of us who practice this foolish craft on a part-time basis. There are beds to clean out (more piles!), onions and spring seeds to plant and the thought of heirloom tomatoes crosses the gardening-struck mind. That's right kids. Later today Bill and Venus Bird will start planting the 2014 Heirloom Tomato crop.

 

But, before we get too excited by this prospect, let us remember that warm afternoon weather brings on the opportunity to get busy in the backyard. Did we plant those pear trees last weekend? CHECK! Mission accomplished! Did you install drip irrigation sprinklers to water that new pear orchard? Uh, well....

 

Hey! We'd Like a Drink Please!

Not a problem, right? All we have to do is access the toolbox set aside for all things drip irrigation! If you're going to garden extensively like we do, wise use of water is an absolute necessity. This is the reason why we dedicate that big, orange plastic toolbox to all things drip irrigation. Of course, we haven't checked that box since Colin Kaep began chucking that pigskin last fall. And wouldn't you know it? It appears you ran out of every key piece of drip irrigation equipment you needed to accomplish the task at hand.

 

Since I can literally count on my local Home Depot to be out of stock of everything I need at any particular moment (it's uncanny how these things happen, people), it means a side trip to Emigh's ACE Hardware store. This is a little far from our North Natomas location. But if there's one thing I can count on, it's this. Emigh's doesn't run out of stuff. Ever. Bank on it. That little sprinkler head you needed is going to cost you a quarter more -- but at least it's in stock.

 

Yeah, it's Another Pile!

With drip irrigation parts acquired, it's time to accomplish that task at hand! What was that task? Oh yeah, irrigate the pear orchard. But wouldn't you know it? That pesky thing called "the sun" suddenly went dark. And while I just might be crazy enough to install irrigation in the dark, one simple thought crosses my mind.

 

What happens if I trip and fall into that thorny rose bush pile?

 

Yep -- I'll wait till tomorrow.

Spring Greens

Asparagus Anyone?

Spring season means it's greens season -- and you will find no shortage of the good stuff popping to the surface right now in the Bird Back 40. Proof is offered to your immediate right. These are three of the fattest asparagus spears to ever sprout from a 4X4 raised bed that the wife that is Venus and I filled with asparagus crowns three years ago.

The bed produced a few tasty spears last year and then was quickly overtaken by weeds and forgotten up until two weeks ago, when I decided to clear a path through the weed jungle that had taken over a side yard to see what a season of neglect had wrought.

Now emerging: Tonight's Dinner!

Not to worry. The asparagus bed not only survived my neglectful ways, it also managed to recover from the Ultimate Digging Machine's (aka Bandi) attempt to dig a hole to China. Heck, I hadn't even fertilized the bed for a good six months! But as I began to chop and clear away at the neglect, one thing became abundantly clear: I may have neglected the asparagus bed. But it's not going to neglect us.

There's a bumper crop of fat and tasty spears from a myriad of varieties that we've planted through the years. Not all asparagus crowns survive the planting process, which is not a problem. If there's a bare spot there? Cram in some new crowns! Something will eventually take. We have the crops to prove it.

Purple Asparagus

Of course, not every part of the patch is throwing up fat and tender spears. There's still a few crowns that could benefit from a few more years of growth. The spears that are emerging from these root systems aren't all that fat and probably won't be very tasty. But that's OK! Because next year? Next year they just might catch on and then we'll have a bed in full production.

But there's far more popping to the surface in our raised gardening adventures than just tasty asparagus spears. Venus littered one of the 4X8 raised beds with a multitude of seeds just three short weeks ago. She still hasn't lost her touch. What was once bare earth is now flowering with green.

Spinach-Lettuce-Radishes

You'll find more than one variety of spinach in this bed. Yeah, you'll also find a French Breakfast radish or two. Standard Cherry Bell radishes more your speed? Easter Egg radishes? That and more is now ready for harvest. No need to pull up an entire plant for a spinach salad. Venus just clips the best and leaves the rest, and let me tell you something: home grown spinach is one tasty treat.

Guess what happens when you mix spinach with asparagus? It's called DINNER! It's finally that time of year when the spring gardens start providing the things we'd been forced to grudgingly purchase at the nearby grocery store. Nothing against the store mind you, but it's much easier to just go outside and pick what you need.

More Peas Please!

Not quite in production yet, but getting there? That would be the 2013 pea crop. Once again, a tip of the proverbial gardening hat to the wife that is Venus. Once again she has worked magic with nothing more than a bag of seed. She littered another raised main bed with pea seeds last fall. I've come to discover that the month of October is the perfect time for planting pea seeds.

The plants don't look like much when they first emerge and grow very little, if at all, through the frosty cold winter months. But what you can't see in these photos is the root development. Peas may not grow much above ground during the winter, but the root system gets quite extensive.

Flowering pea vines

And when spring hits? The party is on! These vines are now approaching five feet in height and will probably grow above the stakes that are currently holding the crop up. I'm happy to report that the colony of bees on the other side of the yard recently discovered this crop and are currently pollinating it like mad. That means peas. Lots and lots of peas and very soon now I might add.

Will asparagus season hold out for the pea crop? I think so. Three to four weeks of asparagus production isn't all that uncommon. By then? Those vines will be thick with fat pea pods.

Peas, asparagus, spinach, radishes and more. Sounds like spring greens season is on.

The Garlic That Almost Wasn't

2013 Bird Garlic Crop

The picture to your immediate right will indeed confirm that the 2013 garlic crop is indeed planted in the Bird Back 40! Not just planted -- but literally jumping out of raised beds that dot our crazy little cul-de-sac corner dedicated to all things vegetable and fruit. 

So what's the big deal? We grow garlic every year, right? Well, yes, that is true. Except that this year it nearly didn't happen. This year was nearly a complete bust thanks to election limits on my free time and the Ultimate Digging Machine known as Bandi the adorable mutt.

Damaged Planter Bed

As it turns out  -- the mutt is good at not just digging. Seems she can take apart a planter bed with one swift kick of a back leg. And she managed to do just that some weeks back -- destroying a planter bed that was destined to hold the Bird 2013 garlic crop.

I have always wondered how long these cheaply constructed gardening beds were going to last -- and now I know. Profiled here several years ago, it appears these "gardening beds on a budget" have a lifespan of five to six years. After that? It's time to repair, rebuild or in my case, start from square one.

Ultimate Digging Machine at Play

The first hint of trouble came when I spotted fresh dirt on the ground and knew that digging doggy had been up to no darn good. Bandi is clearly past her "puppy stage," but that playful and somewhat destructive side does surface every now and then. That's especially true if she spots a vole (field mouse) duck into one of the beds.

A vole? I must DIG! I must FIND! Do voles taste like BACON? I must find out!

Although the cats that grace the Bird Back 40 get their fair share of "vole treats," these thing reproduce so quickly and in such massive numbers that there's always one or two for Bandi to chase in a futile effort from gardening bed to gardening bed. Keep in mind, she never does catch one. She just leaves her tell-tale sign behind, which is usually a nice little hole in the ground or bed.

Yes Fred, I know. You warned me. You were right.

Gardening Bed Damaged Beyond Repair

When I first noticed that the Ultimate Digging Machine had partially destroyed part of one of my older planter beds, my thoughts first turned to "repair." A few well placed gold screws, I believed, would solve this problem. After all -- the bed had been screwed together once before. It certainly could be repaired in the same fashion, right?

Wrong.

I would come to discover that the Ultimate Digging Machine had finished what Mother Nature started a long time ago. Wood that once those golden screws so securely was now so brittle that it fell apart into tiny pieces at the slightest touch. It was done. It was finished. There would be no repair. There would be no 2013 garlic crop.

Or so I first thought.

Damaged Gardening Bed Logs

But the more I thought about it? I just couldn't let it go. This bed has been the source of so many mouthwatering crops and harvests that I just could not write it off. I grew champion Cherokee Purple tomatoes in this bed! Last summer's crop of green onions and several different types of basil was raided quite often I must say. Lettuce had grown here in the fall. The last harvest had been a fat onion crop.

Let it go? Write it off? Leave a big hole in the ground? Perish the thought. As Oscar Goldman of Six Million Dollar Man fame once intoned: "We Can Rebuild Him." It wouldn't be easy. This was bare, open ground when I built the first bed five years ago. There was nothing to get in the way. The rose bush to the left of the bed was added later. That honeysuckle vine covering up our second beehive was added later. And that nice little sidewalk framing the bed against the fence was added just this spring.

Gardening Bed and Drip Irrigation System Removed

In other words, I didn't have a lot of room to operate. And, to add insult to injury, the old bed would have to be removed piece by piece, along with the drip irrigation system, before I could proceed with new bed building efforts. Removing an old, wooden garden bed is quite the inconvenience to the Black Widow spiders and other creepy-crawlers that had since moved in and long ago called it home.

The first step involved removing numerous layers of gardening soil. It was removed the same way it was added -- with shovel and wheelbarrow. I would come to discover that those golden screws that had held the bed together so securely years ago had since disintegrated and would sometimes just break into two brittle pieces upon removal. Some of these "Lincoln logs" as I call them were so brittle they easily snapped into two or three pieces once they were removed. Years of gardening and usage, plus natural elements of rain, cold and heat can do a lot of damage.

We Can Rebuild Him

Yet -- up and out the old bed came -- piece by piece -- leaving surprised spiders and insects to bolt and scramble away. I was left with a bare spot in the ground and started over with the same system I had employed so many years ago: Assemble the new bed in layers, stack, align, screw and reinforce. The re-installation of the drip irrigation system allowed me to make several improvements that will serve to save precious water supplies, yet ensure that the irrigation reaches every last corner.

By the end of the day? The new bed, which looks a lot like the old bed (minus the black widow spiders), had been installed. Old, tired soil was mixed in with some new planter mix and compost, and what was once old and tired was new again. Venus planted the garlic varieties of Lokalen, Bogatyr and California Late White in short order. The cloves have since sprouted, and everything looks just dandy.

Goodbye Old Bed: Hello Potash!

As for the remains from the old bed? I have quite the growing pile of lumber scraps from previous bed building efforts and other "around-the-house" projects. I wasn't interested in growing the size of that scrap pile, which is why I was happy to have a handy-dandy fire pit installed this previous spring.

Old wood burns fast and hot and leaves behind a helpful gardening supplement: potash or potassium, which is an essential ingredient for any gardening project.

And, as for the Ultimate Digging Machine? She most definitely approves of the new addition. Here's hoping that next "urge" to dig strikes in places where I want to add additional fruit trees next spring.

What?! A Vacation?! Now?! Really?! But...

The Ultimate Digging Machine at Capitola

It's a gardener's lament. It's called vacation. It's like the one we took this past weekend to the coast -- where the Ultimate Digging Machine (aka, Bandi, Funny, Steak) saw her fondest dreams come true: miles upon miles of precious, sandy, Capitola coastline where she could dig to her heart's content.

If only those stupid waves would stop getting in the way and filling up every hole she tried to dig.

Vacations and gardening are not easy to mix. A vacation you say? NOW? When everything is coming ripe in the garden? This is the worst possible time to leave! Something is always coming ripe in the Backyard of Bird. Whether it's the generous plantings of heirloom tomatoes, corn, nectarines, grapes, squash, or any other item of garden produce, it just doesn't matter.

Something is about to get ripe. And that grey zucchini that was just about perfect when you left? It's grown to the size of the Battleship Missouri by the time you return. That perfectly shaped Marianna's Peace? It's now soft, plus some critter has bitten into it. Where did those weeds come from and how did they get so big?

Russ and Laurie Maurice

That's just the way it works when it comes to the world of gardening. There simply is no good time to leave. There was, however, a good reason. Long-time friends Russ Maurice and Laurie Williams finally celebrated a long-overdue wedding. Yours truly was honored to be a part of the wedding party. It is the only time I've been chosen to be a groomsman, and will probably the only time I am selected for an honor such as this.

How can one pass up an honor like that? Short answer? You can't. You make the best of it. You load the wife that is Venus and the Ultimate Digging Machine into the family car, celebrate a happy and joyous day among friends and family and most of all: have a good time.

The view from the Hollins House at Pasatiempo

I'm proud to report that we did just that. The Hollins House at Pasatiempo overlooks all of Santa Cruz and mile after mile of blue Pacific Ocean, dotted with bright white sailing vessels of all makes and manners. Not only is it the most picturesque of places to tie the knot, it also features a fine bar with all sorts of fine liquors.

These things are important.

This trip -- and yet another that is still to come -- does happen to come at peak gardening and harvest times for backyard gardening efforts. Bill and Venus Bird are celebrating a whopper of a gardening season. From tomatoes to eggplant and bell peppers to corn -- you can't ask for more. Sure -- there's been a touch of Blossom End Rot with some of the heirloom selections. That's to be expected.

Squash, eggplant, peppers and tomatoes from the garden

But in terms of outright production? You simply cannot ask for more. We've been blessed -- so far -- for what appears to be one whopper of a year. We'll know more when canning efforts swing into high gear later this month, but the garden is now set up and ready for super production over the next two to three months.

You get that special sense that everything is coming up roses when the garden begins to churn out entire dinners, which was the case just before we left. The Grey, Green and Yellow Straightneck Zucchini planted in one corner of the vast backyard are now just beginning to produce in abundance. They join a multitude of peppers and white and purple eggplant that started producing some weeks ago.

Slow roasted vegetables with Beef hotlinks

When you combine all three squash offerings with bell peppers, eggplant and other garden produce, you come up with a special meal that can only be offered a few months out of the year: fresh garden vegetables on skewers slow roasted over an open flame on the backyard barbeque.

My friends, there is nothing quite like the mouth-watering selection of fresh garden vegetables ripened by warm Sacramento summer sunshine and heat. Squash doesn't taste like squash. It tastes like candy. Peppers don't taste like bell peppers. They taste like candy. And there's nothing quite like the tastebud zip of a vine-ripened heirloom tomato that has been lightly toasted and roasted over an open flame.

Heirloom Tomato Appetizers

Candy you say? No -- better.

It is one of those special meals that Venus and I will get to enjoy for many days to come, plus share our bounty with family and friends.

That list does include the newest of married couples: Russ and Laurie. Russ has never been much of a vegetable man -- but neither was I before I met my beautiful bride.

It's amazing how wives can mold a husband. There's hope for Russ yet.

Heaven is...

Tree Ripened Santa Rosa Plum Ready for Picking

Heaven is....Life with the wife that is Venus.

Heaven is...Happiness.

Heaven is...Santa Rosa Plum season.

I must admit -- I've been waiting for this. Not a year or two mind you -- but a lifetime. You don't remember the simple joys of life until they are gone forever -- and you wish you could have them back -- just for a moment or two.

But you can't. The simple joys of life are memories of a simpler time. And unless you've cracked the H.G. Wells code for The Time machine, you can't visit them again.

But I'm here to tell you boys and girls -- that you can come close. Close indeed. I've been there. I was there just tonight.

Santa Rosa Plum Tree-Bird Compound

My memories of Heaven are fresh plum season in mid-1970's Modesto -- and a gigantic, towering, fifty foot tall plum tree across the street from 309 Ribier Avenue. I don't know how it got there. It was just "there" by the time I noticed it. And, you could always count on said tree to deliver a wallop of a harvest.

Heaven was climbing ten-to-15 feet up in those fruit laden branches -- finding the most comfortable spot to lean on and enjoying plum after plum after plum until my fingernails and hands were stained a dark purple. I never did find out what kind of plums they were. All I can tell you is that they were delicious -- and they were bountiful.

That plum tree offered up many a weekend meal or after-school snack during fresh fruit season. The neighbors didn't mind much. In fact, they rather welcomed the sight of me high up in that tree. Because -- soon -- with the onset of hotter days -- the thousands of pieces of leftover fruit in that tree would grow soft.

Santa Rosa Plums-4th Year Crop

And then -- PLOP! Plop on the ground they went. Plop on the neighbor's freshly poured concrete driveway they went, irritating a one Olin Johnson. If the plums weren't plopping on Olin's freshly poured concrete driveway -- the birds that raided that plum tree with regularity -- were leaving something else behind.

Plums make you regular -- much to Olin's chagrin as I recall.

I've never forgotten feasting on those tree-ripened plums all those years ago. I've also never had the opportunity to run across another plum tree like that in the 35-plus years since those special days. I was somewhat distressed to see that the plum tree that so offended Olin Johnson and his freshly poured concrete driveway had been cut down during my last visit back to the old neighborhood.

Of course -- Olin was long gone by this time. There wasn't even a stump to serve as a reminder that a magical plum tree rested there. It was a plum tree that just didn't feed Bill Bird -- but entire neighborhood of young boys just like Bill Bird and -- well -- generations of other "birds."

4th Year Crop-Lush With Plums

It's safe to say that I have waited to repeat this moment since Venus and I first planted our Santa Rosa plum tree four years ago in our North Natomas compound. She would come to discover that it would be the first of many such trees -- but the Santa Rosa was the first.

Although my hope is that the Santa Rosa would be similar to the plums I snacked on decades ago on Ribier Avenue, I realized after the first small crop that it wasn't. The tree delivered another small crop during its second year -- and last year's harvest of 30-to-50 plums was enough to warrant this joyous blog posting.

Ripe for the Picking -- and Snacking!

But it still wasn't what I wanted. What I yearned for is a return to the days when I was a 12-year old boy with enough boundless energy to leap into plum trees with a single bound, hang upside down on a sturdy branch, and snack away until my stomach couldn't hold another bite of plum.

I suppose I'm here to tell you in an excited way that I reached that special nirvana tonight. No, I did not climb said tree. Bill Bird is a tad heavier now than he was 35 years ago -- just a tad. And that "boundless" energy that 12-year old boys have vanishes somewhere -- I'm not really sure as to where.

But that didn't stop me from reaching up to feed on a four year old Santa Rosa plum crop until I reached that special fruit "nirvana." It arrives when you've had just enough. You've eaten your fill. You cannot think of eating another. And yet -- when that hunger returns tomorrow or the next day? There is more than enough to meet said desire.

Ultimate Digging Machine Tenderizing Kitten

As I was feeding the Ultimate Digging Machine, Bandi the Mutt, her share of Santa Rosa plums, it struck me. I had indeed had my fill. I had eaten enough to the point where I was actually sharing plums with the dog we brought home from Oregon from last summer.

It was at that point that Nirvana struck. Had I fed plums to Bon-Bon the family mutt in 1970's Modesto? The faithful family dog that helped raise a family of four children, including the youngest? A boy who loved to climb the nearest fruit trees and eat his fill, while tossing scraps to the ground?

For an instant -- just an instant -- I found myself there. The moment I'd waited to repeat for decades came and went with a flash. The smile had I had on my face as I walked back inside was hard to describe, and also brought questions from the wife that is Venus.

And she's still not quite sure why I'm not interested in having dinner tonight.

Fine Gin Grown Here!

The fall vegetable crop is now planted and coming up nicely!

Well -- most of it is planted anyway. The wonderful wife that is Venus still has a few more rows left to go in one of the raised beds -- but by this weekend? We're hoping to put the finishing touches on a gorgeous fall crop of nothing but nutritous and wonderful things for the body.

Yes -- that includes the finest gin available in a plastic bottle! And if you don't think you can't grow fine gin in a plastic bottle next to Baby Bok Choy or red-leaf lettuce -- well -- you haven't witnessed the wife's wonderful green finger.

Everything the woman plants from seed? It grows. It not only grows -- it grows EXTREMELY WELL. So -- although the "gardening experts" might tell you that you can't grow the finest gin that comes in a plastic bottle from seed -- well -- it doesn't hurt to try -- does it?

We'll let you know what happens around Christmas. If you find that Bill & Venus Bird are involved in a very MERRY holiday -- you'll know that our little experiment worked just fine.

What grows well in the Sacramento Valley during the fall and winter months? Pick a crop! That's the wonderful thing about our area. As summer slowly transitions into fall -- it brings a wealth of "growth" opportunities.

As for the wife? She likes to plant from seed. She won't turn her nose up at some starter plants -- and we do like to support our local nurseries -- so you'll always find us with starter plants of broccoli, chard or one of many wonderful lettuce selections (lettuce tends to extremely well in our North Natomas Back 40).

But for most selections? Venus starts -- and ends -- with a packet of seeds either purchased locally or from one of many seed providers scattered about the country. We happen to be partial to an operation called Pinetree Garden Seeds. They're not local. Not hardly. They happen to be located in a small section of New Gloucester, Maine.

But we keep going back to them for a simple reason: Everything that we buy from them -- works. They've never let us down. I've never opened one bad package of seed provided by Pinetree Garden Seeds -- and that's the honest truth. Plus -- they're cheap -- which doesn't hurt.

Still -- if you're undecided as to what you'd like to plant in your backyard for the coming fall season -- you can't go wrong with the handy-dandy Farmer Fred Hoffman Planting Guide. Plus -- he also blogged about his favorite fall selections not all that long ago.

But he didn't have fine gin that comes in a plastic bottle on his list -- remember that much.

The first step we always take in planting our fall garden is recharging the raised beds that held part of our summer garden. The second step? Chasing "that damn dog" away from the raised beds that have just been recently amended. Bandi seems to have this belief that she was a Mantis Tiller in a former life. Solving that little "digging problem" has been problematic to say the least -- although I've found a gadget called The Scarecrow to be quite effective (it shoots a stream of water at anything that crosses its path).

If only I had ten of them...

We are recharging the beds with some different materials this fall. Venus and I recently switched to a new form of compost called "Paydirt" that we purchased from Capital Nursery in Sacramento. This is a little more expensive than the cheaper forms of Steer Manure Compost that we had been purchasing from Home Depot -- but we decided to make the switch for a number of reasons:

1. This is a better form of compost for our raised beds. We use these beds a lot. Treat them with good form of compost and they will treat you well in the form of vegetable crop production.

2. Paydirt Compost is an organic form of compost. We're not 100% organic mind you -- and may never get there -- but we try!

3. The illegal pot growers already snapped up the really good Fox Farm Compost!

Illegal Pot Grower: "We did not! I mean -- we're not growing anything!"

Me: "Then why is your name Illegal Pot Grower?"

Illegal Pot Grower: "DOH!"

The results -- so far -- have been better than we ever could have hoped. Every single one of Venus' seed rows has sprung to life -- and the starter plants that we purchased are also doing remarkably well.

Broccoli and Swiss Chard starter plants

We're not done -- of course -- not by a longshot. Venus and I will begin the process of planting seed garlic and onion starts next month -- and there's always another row to plant or another experimental vegetable to try. Who knows? We may put the test bed to work this fall instead of reserving it for "summertime use only."

I know I can count on one thing: The seeds that Venus planted earlier this month will result in a nice salad serving for ten-to-15 guests for our annual family Thanksgiving celebration. The Baby Bok Choy serves as a wonderful green to brighten those warm soups in the dead cold of winter. And there's nothing like fresh swiss chard and spinach in a turkey taco salad dinner.

We're not writing the summer garden off quite yet either. As long as we have heat -- we'll get tomatoes. There's still another watermelon to harvest -- the bell peppers aren't quite done yet -- and we might be able to squeeze another jar or two of pickles from the cucumber plantings.

But as for fall? The greens are jumping!