Ok, REALLY now, Bruce, anyone who takes an opening line from a Chuckie post remotely seriously needs a beer and a nap! Of the many things to love about this guy, his michevious nature has got to be near the top of the list. Ah, Chuckie! We could all lay on the guilt trip, but I truly believe that nothing could punish you worse than the STENCH eminating from a bin of cooked earthworms. I have first hand experience with such not once, but TWICE, so you have a ways to go to achieve my level of guilt! My story begins way back in the early years of my work with worms when I was the Organic Waste Management Specialist for Clark County Cooperative Extension here in my community. We had set a largish worm bin (4x10) outside beneath the window of my office and that of the 4-H director, who was none to fond of worms and, because she liked to keep her window open (it looked out on the riparian zone of a local stream) concerned that the bin would smell. I, of course, assured her that a well-managed bin produced no odors and that I would certainly manage the system well. That Friday afternoon I proceeded to bed said bin with fresh dairy manure mixed with straw (insert sinister music here), deposit in that bedding 20 pounds of worms, and go home for the weekend. Monday morning I arrived to an office building so odiferous it could scarce be entered, and an office staff of rather agitated folks wondering what could possibly be causing such a stench and how they were going to function while dealing with it. Never having experienced a worm barbecue before, I did not at that time know what might be the cause, so, while others were exploring for answers, went to check on my new worm bin. At this point the mystery of the Monday morning stink was quickly solved. The combination of fresh dairy solids and straw massed in my largish bin had achieved a temperature of nearly 160 degrees F, and 20 pounds of earthworms were melted on top of the bedding. It was beyond horrible! It took the smell a few days to fully leave the office, but far longer for the 4-H director to speak to me, let alone consider allowing me to teach vermicomposting to her charges. I bet it was 5 years before I even BEGAN to live this one down! A composting and vermicomposting specialist, and I actually mixed together fresh manure and straw as worm bedding! Even I can't imagine what I was thinking! My second worm roast was just a few years later. I was speaking at a conference in Florida and had had 5 boxes of different worm species shipped to me for use in a demonstration. I picked them up at the shipping office in my rental car and placed them carefully in the trunk, then went for what should have been a brief lunch meeting. It was a lunch meeting that developed into a lunch/dinner meeting, during which time the 5 boxes of worms remained in the trunk of my rental car. In Florida. In the asphalt parking lot. In the sun. It was during this trip that I learned that such smells as cooked earthworm actually saturate upholstery, and ended up paying a hefty damage fee for the car as the rental agency had to have the interior shampooed to remove the stink. Of course, this did not happen until after I returned the vehicle, meaning I had to drive around for three days in a vehicle permeated with the smell of broiled earthworm. It is not a smell one quickly forgets. It is not a smell one would choose to experience. Now please don't think me callous, as the fact that several thousand earthworms died at my hand in those two events is one I most certainly regret! The lingering punishment of guilt and embarassment, however, can be no more painful than the olfactory torture of over-cooked worm! So, cry on my shoulder, Chuckie. I most certainly understand! Kelly S

I sold my Mother's farm in VA (where she died very unexpectedly, but of natural causes) and asked this question and was told it was not a "discloseable item". I did tell my buyers, but mostly because I knew they would eventually hear about it and I wanted to frame it for them so they would know that it was not a great tragedy (except as a shocking loss for my family) and I'm sure that all things considered my Mother would have preferred for it to happen there (if it had to happen), rather than in any other circumstances as she loved her house and felt deeply safe and at home there. I live in a very old house (175+ years) and I'm sure many people have died here in my rooms. Doesn't trouble me at all, but then we also have a private family cemetery here with dozens of graves (some from the 1700's - so sad to see a week when four small children died, one after the other probably from something like diptheria). I'm not sure if I would feel the same about a house as notorious as one where some infamous murders took place, for instance. Even if I came to peace about it, I would worry about resale issues. (That's about the only resale issue that would bother me, aside from environmental crises.) You could (depending on your beliefs) have the house "cleansed" of bad energy if it bothered you. L.

Our natural disasters (in Wisc) 1. A few tornadoes. The destructive path tends to be narrow. 2. Wind fronts (downbursts) 3. Lightening strikes. In my county, there are 2 to 5 house strikes per year resulting in damage or fire. 4. An occasional blizzard, Happens maybe once every 5 years. 5. Tripple snowstorms. Three big snows within 8 days can be hazardeous. Happens rarely, but can overload roofs and generally slow down commerce. 6. Cold snaps. Really severe ones that go to temperatures lower than -20 F for more than one day is rough to deal with in case of equipment failure either with the auto or home heating system. Temps this cold happen maybe once in 30 years.

Well, good luck to all you Californians with your recent drought history and questions as to the future; and good luck to your roses, Cath. Greetings to all my fellow cherry lovers! Virginia, I've wondered if there are any breeding programs for sweet cherries involving Prunus serotina to create cherries that could grow in the southeastern U.S. It grows as far south as Florida and has edible fruit. I picked two batches of pie cherries, put one batch, pitted, in the freezer for pies for DD's birthday dinner in December, as is traditional in our household, and turned the other batch into two delicious pies. Your torte sounds pretty wonderful. Ingrid, would there be any possibility of your building a pergola, or do you already have one? I don't recall one from your photos. You sound like you could use some outdoor shade. I know I notice the lack of it very much in those parts of the garden that don't have trees and large shrubs; in fact, in this weather I just don't go in those areas, which include the bulk of the garden. Still no rain, and the forecast isn't comforting. There's a possibility of thundershowers in a few days. What worries me most is the possibility of running completely out of water: nothing coming out of the faucets. Summer is here, early, now that all the spring flowers have shrivelled up in the dry heat. This is the time of year when I regularly admire my Sansevierias, brought out for their summer sojourn under the pergola, the only time of year that they have conditions that really suit them. I went through a phase of collecting them several years ago; most survived, and they do their active growing now, just a leaf here and there. I like their sculptural character, and their near-immortality. Most of mine are probably about ten years old. My sister has one that I remember growing in our dad's store half a century ago. Also the hardier succulents that spend the winter in an improvised cold greenhouse seem to be practically immortal. I have a white variegated Agave americana that I bought as a neglected small plant for too much money about a decade ago. I took it home, cleaned the rot out of the root and repotted it, and over the years it has grown a good deal and is a respectable specimen. Idem others, that have stayed with me over the years and become members of my plant family. None of them are rarities, I don't take good enough care of my potted plants to risk that, but they have character and I enjoy them during the hot months. They're my summer garden. The rest of the season is dedicated to clearing brush, in whatever areas the shade happens to fall. There's a lot of satisfaction in clearing out brambles, nettles, and wild clematis, and somehow I stay ahead of the massive invasions from our neighbors' properties. DH is in charge of watering, for as long as we can water. There's already a massacre happening among poorly established plants. And the roe deer are busily destroying such trees as we have gotten started. These are a fairly recent arrival locally, dating back perhaps six years or so, and we're overrun with them.