What Grows On Your Catalpa?

In the Spring of this year we rescued the Catalpa tree so it could grow tall and unbound by undergrowth in hopes that it would host the great Catalpa worm that we LOVE for fish bait.

I checked for fish bait and they were there!!!

 I discovered this Assassin Beetle having a meal.

He posed and continued his meal as I picked a few caterpillars for fish bait.

We went fishing in the Top Pond

We caught a pair of bass (male and female)

 and a pair of sun perch to move to the spring pond.

I guess, in a round about way, our Catalpa Tree grows fish.

Last Night

Last night we had thunder storms, hail and lots of rain.  All is good.  The rain brings out the night crawlers...fish bait.  We were out with flash lights picking them off the ground.  No digging for our fish bait.  Dad started these years ago by releasing some Night Crawlers from Illinois.  They have a flat tail, the only way to distinguish them from the natives.  We also have native cane worms, night crawlers, wigglers (our name for them) and red worms.

When it rains, you walk softly with a flash light.  You have to move fast to grab these before they quickly retreat to their safe spot.

We have enough for two or three meals...gotcha!  The worms will be used to catch fish and we will eat those.  Of course, I had to write a silly poem...

Last Night

Lightning flashed

Thunder rolled

Ate Chocolate Pie

Hail did blow

Ground's soaked

Worms crawled

Caught fish bait

Couldn't get them all

The Cold Frame...

that's what it was called when it grew early spring plants.  The structure partially underground was covered with hinged glass doors so the sun's warmth could coax the garden plants into early growth.  On warm days the doors were thrown wide for "toughening" the plants.  During nights of frost and ice the doors stayed closed.

The ground was composted and enriched naturally.  The tomatoes and peppers were started on Lincoln's birthday and the potatoes must be in the ground by St. Patrick's Day.  So many rules that worked...sometimes.

This is how it looks now.  That's right another &%*# project I've dreamed up for me to try to accomplish in humid triple digit heat indexes. I feel compelled to right all that has been neglected.  Dad built this Cold Frame and began plants here every spring.  Now it sets minus the frame with only the cold rock walls left.

I  must remove the weeds after trimming overhead limbs and enrich and rework the soil into a nice loose soil.

I think I will grow worms in this...fish bait, earth worms, creepy squiggly worms that people string on fish hooks to catch wonderful tasting fish with...yes, worms!  We have night crawlers and red worms now I just have to build them a cozy nest with rich soil they will enjoy staying in.

We all enjoy fishing and this location for the bait will be handy.

Raising rabbits and worms to sell were part of the money I earned growing up.  Wasn't easy but always sold out. Hopefully I will have a new successful worm village by next spring.

Hot Flashes and Hellgrammites

I don't know if it's this freaky weather or my lone ovary talking to me.  Hot one minute, cold the next.  The rest of the baby factory was disassembled pre-1988 but doc said the lonely one would do it's work.  Could also be something else, anyway, it's not any fun.

My mind is as jumpy as my temperature.  I thought hot flashes, then I thought Hellgrammites  That took me to childhood hunting for fish bait.  Strange how things process in this old hard drive I call my brain.  I said it twice, hot flashes and hellgrammites and it sounded good...thus the birth of this post.

When it was too dry to dig for earth worms, we hunted hellgrammites.  Now, these babies, exactly what they are, can bite. They are larvae. They kinda roll with the current of a stream.  Dad would place a screen at a good point in the creek.  It was our job to stir the hellgrammites.

When they caught on the screen, we removed them to some container.  This was the fun part for Dad (I blame him for my orneriness). We girls got to pick them.  With lots of ouching and squealing we tried not to get bitten.  Dad stood by with his blue Irish eyes twinkling ever ready with instructions on how to catch them without the bite.

We left the hunt soaked from jumping and splashing in the shallow stream while catching these little monsters.  I suspect Dad was a little tired from laughing. Our fish bait was now ready to magically turn into dinner. 

We always had bass for supper when we had hellgrammites.  I guess that was one way Dad taught us to work for our dinner. 

For those in doubt, this is a happy memory.