The skies are gray, the chill has set in; it’s definitely got that November feel. With diminished daylight, I struggle to get caught up, and find myself failing on many fronts. I look around and most everything looks a leafy, weedy mess. Then, I rationalize that these are perfect conditions for overwintering flora and fauna. The pragmatic me bemoans the work ahead come spring. I have, however, tucked in more bulbs than expected, so that will brighten my spirits as winter releases her grip.

Meanwhile, I’m still mowing and mulching the never-ending leaf-drop on the lawn. Little by little, I weed a section of the main veggie garden and then lay a thick covering of this mulch in that area. When that’s complete, I’ll then move onto the further away gardens doing the same. This helps so much for the next growing season and beyond. I can’t say enough good things about doing this.

The brutally thorny blackberry patch and the slightly friendlier raspberry patch have had their canes cut back to within a couple of inches of ground level. Hopefully, I’ll have time to weed them, throw on some of our own compost, and call it a day.

I’ll be leaving most of the perennial gardens intact, except for ridding as many noxious weeds (bedstraw, hairy bitter cress, etc.) as I can find through the riot of leaves. The leaves blow every which way but manage to somehow secure enough depth to keep things covered and me “blustered”.

I’m also on the hunt at this time for vole holes (lots this year) amongst all the perennials and systematically shove my favorite repellent Vole Scram down their holes. Regarding the bulbs mentioned above, I have deposited a generous scoop of Espoma Bulb-tone organic fertilizer below all tulips, then layered upwards with oyster shells and Repels-All granules all the way to the surface. If I don’t perform this ritual for tulips, I will have absolutely nothing in the spring. I love tulips.

I wanted to have all my tomato cages, poles, and stakes sterilized in a 10% bleach bath and put away by the end of October. That didn’t happen. On the 10th of the month, a balmy 60-degree day greeted me, and I knew that it was my last chance to go at this before the promised polar vortex plunged south in the next couple of days. Done by dusk and stored for the winter. I check off one job accomplished.

No better time than now to admit some guilt. I was supposed to comment in last month’s blog about how the beer brewing went, but I proceeded to completely forget. After all the growing, the intense prep, and the solid amount of patience, shame on me for this blunder. Let me say, however, the magic did happen. The whole process transformed into a crystal-clear, deep amber IPA with a mustache-worthy frothy head. From the mouth of the beer meister himself: “malty and crisp while slightly sweet”. “Light bitterness with bright hop flavor”. Guess we done good.

Changing the subject entirely, I do want to take a moment to give our seminars a shout-out. We do these periodically to share our experience and expertise with you when it comes to subjects such as wild birds, natural lawn care, seed starting, native plants, raising chickens, and our most recent one on bats.

Ok, I admit there is some partiality involved here; our very own endangered species biologist, Meg Harrington, presented. Not just because we are proud parents, but more so because this seminar was so informative, interactive, and fun. Here’s a fact you might not be aware of. Bats, being the only flying mammals, did you know that the largest bat, the golden crowned flying fox, clocks in with a wingspan of up to 6 ft. and weighs up to 3.1 lbs. while the smallest bumblebee bat weighs just 0.071 oz. as a full-grown adult (that’s less than a dime!) and has a wingspan of 5.1-5.7 inches? How fascinating is that? Though these two are native to Southeast Asia, we, here in New Hampshire, have 8 species that continue to need our help. So from the all-important jobs of pollinating and insect devouring, we must never live without these wondrous creatures.

I can’t end a blog without mentioning something about animal antics here on the knoll. With the settling in of our regular winter birds, the only unsettling creatures newly seen have been a gray fox and a toffee-colored bobcat prancing up the path beside the garden with a fat shrew or vole in his mouth. Good job- now leave the chickens alone! By the way, our first egg finally arrived on October 28th from one of those rowdy spring chickens mentioned last month. More better come soon! We found this egg well-camouflaged in the corner of the coop. What about the two fancy nest boxes right there before your eyes? Jeez…

Now it’s past mid-month, and I still haven’t got this blog done. It’s cold and windy again today, but I’m heading outside to clear my head. I look east, and the deciduous trees are bare except for the glowing Kousa dogwood framed by the deep green rhododendrons. What a sight! I turn to my niche “boulder” garden and, there, demanding my attention, on a single plant, a blaze of late calendula glory. Wow, and there have already been several killing frosts. A solitary volunteer arugula in the main veggie garden still attracts the last pollinators. And finally, to the west, robins have been sampling chokeberry berries. Free of charge, all it takes is opening your eyes and other senses to ever-present beauty in nature. I feel lots better now.

By the time you receive this blog, our truckload wild birdseed sale will have already occurred. I hope you were able to stock up on our great once-a-year event, because this one topped all others! Not to worry if you didn’t make it, because we have great deals all year round.

Now that the holidays are just around the corner, please stop by to check out our creatively themed displays. We meet everyday needs (not much beats that bale of shavings I mention every year). Deck it out in ribbon, write messages, and draw all over it. Tell me that’s not fun! Of course, we also have many whimsical yet functional choices. Come see for yourself; you’ll be checking one after another off your list. One thing’s for sure; we’re very different!

That’s it for now,

Judy

November 2025 Musings

Nashua Farmers’ Exchange