Cold Damage

My part of north Georgia had a couple of late freezes--the last was April 15/16.  Both were pretty marginal; the one the night of April 15 just touched 32 degrees and did not stay there long--about an hour.  The earlier one the week before dropped the temp to 29.

That's only about three or four degrees above the blueberry killer of 2017, but those few degrees really matter.  My blueberries this time around suffered no damage--they're supposed to be hardy to about 28.  The only plant that suffered at all was a new fig that's still in the pot.

The morning after the frost, some of the leaves looked like they'd been damaged.

Over the next few days the withered parts of leaves completely died.

It's no big deal; most leaves were okay and in any case, it'll put out new leaves to replace those that were lost.

Early spring freezing on new growth isn't the same as whatever has caused some other figs to die--one was lost when it was still leafed out in early November and got hit with a low 20s freeze.  Others have gone dormant and never recovered.  But spring vulnerability is an issue with figs.  It's usually not fatal.

Return of the Chuck-Will's-Widows

They're back.  As I wrote a couple of years ago, Chuck-will's-widows are migratory nightjars that are present throughout the south during the spring and summer.  In my old exurb-that-became-a-suburb, they became less common and finally disappeared over the 20 years that I lived there.  Development pushed them out--they won't call from underneath a tree in a supermarket parking lot; they need large swaths of forest.

I now live again in a place where they sing throughout the spring, so all is well on that count.  One thing that has surprised me, however, is learning how spotty they can be, even in good habitat.  I can always hear them in the back of the house, but out in the front by the road, not so much (this is true even without traffic).  There are areas nearby that are teeming with them, and other areas nearby where they cannot be heard at all.

I don't know what their status as a species is: the Cornell University site cites data suggesting that their numbers may have declined 70% over the 50 years between 1966 and 2015.  In some areas they have been all but eliminated--such as my former neighborhood--but that population may have simply shifted elsewhere.  Tree cover in the Southeast may or may not be down...but it may well be that the type of cover they want is lower now than it was back in 1966.  Individual trees or small isolated copses won't get it done for them.

I'm glad they're in my new neighborhood.  I hope they stay.

Sauerkraut Reveal 2020

On day 29, I opened up the kraut crock.  The temps for the April fermentation period were pretty close to ideal.  Early in the month it got into the mid-70s, but was otherwise mostly in the targeted range of about 66-72.

I had profound troubles with the sauerkraut tide again.  At times the water in the moat almost disappeared, then hours later (after more water was added) it would overflow and run down the sides.

The picture shows one of the low times.  There were a few occasions when it dropped below the notch in the lid, making me wonder if the air seal had been broken.  I tried shifting the lid around a bit but nothing ran out.  Nonetheless, the seal apparently stayed intact.

When I finally opened it, the view was pretty similar to last time:

That isn't mold on the top, just petrified foam.  Once again, it became apparent as I was trying to lever the glass weights out of the crock that 7-8 pounds of cabbage is the maximum this crock can hold.  Although I was maybe a pound lighter than last time going in, I got about the same amount when the jars were filled--a little over 1.25 gallons.

The Cool-Whip container at the left holds some, as well, although not much--less than a pint's worth.

The pH is about 4.0, as near as I can tell; the red tinting of the cabbage makes it hard to get a good read.

The flavor is outstanding, though the texture is much different from thin-sliced sauerkraut.  And the core pieces aren't objectionable.  This one was a success... and with the temps expected to be in the upper 80s for the first May weekend in north Georgia, this will definitely be the last batch until fall.

Ants in the Plants

A few weeks ago, I brought some of the plants in my office home.  I soon  noticed a few very small ants walking around on top of the tool box where one umbrella plant was sitting.  I don't know what kind they are.  As I have noted previously, I have had the most success with ants when I've used bait.  I still have some Advion packed away in a box somewhere, but I had a tube of Optigard readily available.

I've had mixed results with Optigard.  Sometimes ants just walk by it; othertimes they go after it immediately, like the picture in the previous post showed.  This time they were initially pretty indifferent. 

They walked right by and around the spots of bait.  After a few minutes, an ant tried it, and was soon joined by some others.  They didn't take much, but I don't know how many were in the plant.  I didn't get a large number coming out of the soil when I watered it, like I have seen before with other colonized pots.

However, the baiting was at least partly successful: about three days later, the top of the filing cabinet had a number of dead ants on it.

The Optigard worked, although I had the same issue mentioned previously: it seems to be prone to separation, with the first thing coming out of the tube being close to syrup in consistency.  That's okay for a flat surface like the filing cabinet, but not so good for a vertical one like a wall.

Canning Chicken

I have a pressure canner--I actually have two; one bought last summer and one bought a few years ago.  The picture is of my largest, an All American 921 that can hold stacked pint jars.

I have always planned to take up pressure canning, but until now haven't.  I'm not concerned about the pressure canner blowing up.  The All American has six screw-down locks, additional lugs to prevent the lid from blowing off if the main locks somehow fail, and a overpressure plug that will blow out at some point if pressure increases.  And I'm now under 1000 feet in elevation, so am able to can at 10 psi instead of 15, thus reducing the potential problems with pressure, anyway.  My main concern has been food safety.

I've gotten very comfortable with canning acidic foods, but botulism poisoning would be a show-stopper.  But it is also very rare (only 17 cases of foodborne botulism reported in 2018).  So whatever people are doing to can low-acid foods seems to work reasonably well--and I assume that the directions at the NCHFP site are designed to be safe at the > 99% level. However, the site also has horror stories.

All this being said, procedurally, pressure canning of most things is pretty easy--much more so than peach preserves, for example, which require a number of steps to get to the point that something is ready to go into jars.

For chicken, it's very easy.  In this first attempt, I canned some boneless, skinless chicken breasts.  I just cut the raw breast meat up into small pieces and packed the pieces into the jars.  I got about 13 ounces in each jar, leaving about 1 1/4" headspace (to the 'freeze' line).  The processing time is 75 minutes for pints. I processed them for 80 minutes, just to be sure the jars got to 240 degrees throughout.

If you look around online, you'll find some sites that suggest adding liquid to raw-packed meat jars before processing.  In my case, that would not have worked.

As the picture below shows, the jars are pretty full of liquid.  This may be because of the chicken I used--Great Value from Walmart.  The package said something about how the chicken may contain brine, much like the turkeys for sale around Thanksgiving.  The NCHFP site notes that there usually isn't enough liquid in raw-packed meats to cover the contents of the jar, but it worked fine with my low-grade chicken. As a side note, I'd intended to add 1/2 teaspoon of salt to each jar, but forgot--nonetheless, when I opened a jar the next day to sample it, it seemed as though it was seasoned just fine--because of the brine, I assume.

Last summer I didn't do any canning, partly because the house was hot and the thought of running boiling pots on the stove for a long period of time wasn't attractive.  That will definitely be a factor this summer, as well, which is fast-approaching.  I do have an outdoor camp stove with two propane burners that I plan to try using (though the NCHFP discourages this; it seems that it should be doable without causing damage to the canner since the body is so thick--and burners can always be turned down).  All this being said, the big canner seems to absorb and internalize most of the heat, not radiating much out into the room.  Some steam escapes, but it's less than with a boiling water bath or atmospheric steam canner.

Going forward, I expect most of my canning to continue to be non-pressurized.  However, it's nice to have the option to can low-acid foods, as well.

Sauerkraut 2020

I haven't made sauerkraut for a couple of years.  Last year I was too busy with moving, and this fall I never got around to making any.  During the winter, my indoor temperatures are actually a little low for kraut-making (65-72 is cited as the optimum temperature).  So the shoulder seasons, fall and spring, are the best time.  Temps in those months can be tricky, however; I have already had temps as warm as 76 indoors, but then cold spells plunge it back to the low 60s.

As always, I like red cabbage for sauerkraut.  I have noted before that each dressed head is about two pounds; this time my heads were a little small.  I got four, and ended up with seven pounds of chopped cabbage total.  The first step was to quarter the heads and cut out the core sections.

Chopping up each head only took about 10 minutes or so; I spent about an hour on the process overall.  This time, I tried cutting up the core and including some (not all) of it in the crock, as well.  We'll see how that goes.

As previously, I don't use anything other than a now fairly dull serrated knife to cut the cabbage; there are certainly ways to make a much finer consistency than I use, but this has worked okay for me so far.

I then added one tablespoon of salt per two pounds, squeezed the shredded cabbage a bit, then put it in the crock and used the stomper.

Finally, I added some brine to get the fluid level up to the top of the cabbage, even though I knew it would continue to excrete juice for a while and add to the mix.  This time I used coarse kosher salt, which is not recommended on makesauerkraut.com, but I thought it was the only plain salt I had. I later noticed a bag of canning salt on the shelf.  Oh, well. The brine that I added helped dissolve it.

Now I just let it sit for a while.  By the time I open it, it will be nearly May, and getting much warmer (most likely).  The first few days have been in the upper 60s to low 70s, which is almost perfect. Hopefully the ferment will turn out well.

A Beautiful Pest

Wisteria.  It's very invasive, spreading everywhere, and it climbs trees, covering them up (though maybe not as thoroughly as kudzu) and eventually choking them.  I have some wisteria encroaching from one property line, and I've been dealing with it for a few years--not very effectively.

This year I have at least made some progress on it.  This is the time of year when the leaves on trees are just coming out, but the wisteria is in bloom, making it easy to see.  More importantly, the vines snaking up trees are easy to see, too, because there isn't much undergrowth yet.

I noticed a tightly-wrapped pine with a couple of wisteria vines going up.  When I cut them--it was easy, even though they were thick; the wood isn't very substantial--I saw these marks in the bark.  This is one reason it's so noxious.  It wraps itself tightly around trees, then as the vines grow in diameter, it chokes off the cambium layer, like a slow-motion python. Cutting the vine relieves the pressure.

I know it'll just send out sprouts from the vine stump at ground level, but I have at least knocked it back a few years.  One of the vines I cut (not on the tree shown) was as big around as my wrist.  Even that thick, I was able to sever it with some loppers (though not in one bite).

All that being said, the flowers are nice.  For a brief time, a couple of weeks at most, they're attractive and fragrant.  Some people to this day buy the stuff as an ornamental, and if tightly controlled (which is challenging), it can be a good small tree for that.  The downsides are too great, however.  I went ahead and severed every large stem I could find.  The flowers will wilt a little faster than normal this year, but that's fine.