Our raspberry patch has been thinning of late. The glory years yielded a bounty of 8-10 quarts, but the last few years have given only a quart or so at most. Raspberries give us jam and add lovely color and flavor to the chocolate raspberry ice cream that I often make. Some years ago a fellow with raspberry experience advised Kris to mow down half of our raspberry patch each year to encourage good growth the next year. Hah! We did it once and it took our patch a few years to recover from that. The raspberries themselves are eager to expand but keep coming up in our lawn and we’ve been reluctant to let the patch take over that part of the lawn. What to do?
It seems obvious that we should get new stock and plant some more. But it’s such a shame to keep mowing over the new plants that are already coming up. As you may know, raspberries spread through a root system underground. It’s not easy to dig up these fledgling plants and transplant them because it necessitates cutting them off from the mother plant, but I gave it a try anyway. Results below are pretty much what I expected.
Then we had an eureka moment. What if we dig up the new babies, separate them from the grass, put the grass back, and plop the little dears into jars where they could establish new roots and then be transplanted? So it has begun.
Grow, baby, grow!
I’ll keep you updated on the results of this very scientific experiment. Very sciencey.
The 2023 hiking season got off to a mosquito-y start. Even as I type this, the little devils are circling around me as I sit at the picnic table, whining and landing on my knuckles, the only unprotected part of my flesh.
But never mind about all that. Our first hike took us to Schoolcraft State Park, or, as I think of it, “O. Henry Schoolcraft State Park.” Although the park was only created in 1959, Henry Schoolcraft made his appearance in this area in 1832 as he did some investigative research into the mystery of where the Mississippi River headwaters were. I’ve written about that already in my post about Itasca State Park, which you can read HERE. He was unsuccessful in getting that park named after him, but maybe he’d be pleased to know that another state park bears his name. Or maybe he’d feel abashed and dismayed. Here’s a photo of him from back in the day.
We didn’t arrive at the park until around 1:50 p.m. and started off on the 1.8 mile hike by 2:00 after getting all our hiking gear on. The park was deserted except for us and a million mosquitos. We lathered up with DEET-less mosquito spray and hoped for the best. I read somewhere that mosquitos are attracted to certain blood types. If so, my blood is clearly of gourmet restaurant quality to them. Have I said too much about mosquitos?
The hike itself was very pleasant, as far as I could tell, although you should ask my husband for details. I was walking through it very rapidly to get ahead of the little offenders who shall not be named again. They found me anyway. The path was level and nicely lined with pine needles.
We saw some early spring ephemerals along the way and for part of the trail we walked along the Mississippi River.
I stopped occasionally for a quick photo, fighting off the enemy as best I could.
The trail is called the “Old Grand Rapids Tote Road,” which was constructed more than 100 years ago. Just think how many feet have walked that path! We made our way through many stands of pine tress and the occasional grouping of oaks. A flicker of movement ahead at one point alerted us to the departure of two deer, their white tails winking out of sight in the distance. Nice.
For awhile our hike was accompanied by a very loud bird that sounded as if it was at a baseball game and its team was losing. Assuming you’re tired of seeing the flawless and beautiful close-ups that actual nature photographers get, you’ve come to the right place. I like to think my photos are still somewhat artsy in their clumsiness. Don’t burst my bubble.
We came across a lone park employee in a four-wheeler. He spoke to us about the only really important topic of the day: Mosquitos. You didn’t really think I wouldn’t name them again, did you? His words of wisdom to us were that they weren’t really bothering him since there was a nice breeze. I added, “as long as you keep moving,” and he came back with, “or as long as the breeze keeps moving.” It was quite a sparkling conversation in the wilderness. I noted that his tee-shirt said something about rhubarb on it, signaling that he was probably born and bred in Minnesota. He went on his mosquito-less way.
Not long after that, we saw the most beautiful sight of all: our shiny blue car, all sparkling in the sunlight. A haven from mosquitos! A blessed tiny world with air conditioning!
The Schoolcraft State Park people might read this and feel that I have misrepresented the experience of being at their park. I think that’s a fair complaint. If you take away the whiny insect component of the park, it was quite lovely. If you go, bring your best friend, DEET. You won’t be sorry.
Knee score: 1 out of 10. Level and short.
P.S. A post-script about mosquito bites and their remedies. I thought I’d tried them all (with varying degrees of success) until I began seeing ads for something called “The Bug Bite Thing.” I mean, why complicate your product by giving it a name that doesn’t get right to the heart of the matter? We saw one at a gas station on the way up and decided to give it a try. The idea is that you suction out of the bite whatever irritating thing the mosquito puts in your skin to make it so itchy. You have to do it right away for the best result. I’m always desperate for ways to alleviate the torturous itching that I get from those bites. I’d say the results were mixed. If you use it right away after getting the bite, it does the trick! But that’s often not practical, and sometimes while you’re trying to suction away one bug bite, the mosquitoes are busy making more.
I’ll probably suction the juices out of this post in the morning.
This one is for my friend, Sherri, who deals with chronic pain due to neuropathy. She’s always so cheerful when I see her – I don’t think I’d deal with my pain half so well. Now I need to put this one in the mail for her.
If you want to participate in the Lazy Artist Initiative, you can comment on this post and I’ll send you a small watercolor – if I know you. 😊 It might take me awhile, but I’ll get there.
I’ll probably delete this and fly off as a butterfly in the morning.
Lynniebeemuseoday 