Flood Watch

Snow fall in the mountains this winter has been setting records all season. A good snow pack feeds the waterways and means that we do not have to worry about running out of water to irrigate this summer. Unfortunately the snow fall has been so heavy that now we are concerned about flooding. We live less than a mile west of the Snake River and cross it daily. We are high and dry and separated from the river by I-15 and an empty catch pond/gravel pit. A greenbelt walkway circles the dry pond connecting to an eight mile greenbelt that boarders the river. This winter we walked the greenbelt daily, cataloging the rise and fall of the river, knowing that as the snow pack began to melt the river would rise.

The view from the east side of Teton Pass.

During my weekly deliveries to Jackson I drive along and cross the Snake River several times each trip. I follow the river and then cross it just north of Idaho Falls. I get a bird's eye view of the river as I drop into Conant Valley and get a second aerial view as I wind down into Swan Valley and cross the bridge. I skirt the river for a few miles and then do not see it again until crossing the bridge just outside of Jackson. These sightings take my breath away. The river is high, fast and beautifully dangerous--and the snow pack has not really begun to melt.

Two weeks ago we got a taste of what heavy snow melt really means when a mud slide closed Pine Creek Pass, my favorite leg of the trip. Luckily the mud was removed and the road passable within a few days but the damage to the creek and surrounding area is devastating. The willows in the wetlands surrounding the creek look like they were hacked by a giant weed eater. And the once crystalline creek is hugely swollen and silted. The following week a massive mud closed the Alpine road and weeks later is still not cleaned up. The road is heavily damaged and may remain closed for quite some time and the snow has still yet to melt.

The tan line through the snow is the road below Glory Bowl on the Teton Pass.

For weeks engineers have been pushing as much water as possible down the Snake River to empty the reservoir in preparation for the snow melt. All last week we watched as the river grew higher and higher, pushing up and out of its banks. As the skies clouded over and the rain fell the counties along the Snake prepared for flood.

This is a stretch of the greenbelt just east of us where we walked each day this winter. In mid May a barrier was constructed to prevent flooding. This photo was taken May 19.

This photo was taken six days later. The walkway has disappeared into the water. The trees in the middle of the water are on a high spot in the catch pond. The white object in the center of the photograph is a "You are Here" sign. This photo was taken from the road on the overpass that crosses I-15, our route into town. In 1997, under similar conditions, the water seeped beyond the catch pond, crossed the interstate, filled the median saturating the ground around the overpass and caused its collapse. At some point Saturday the southern end of the dike was partially dismantled to allow the water to flow back into the river, presumably to avoid another overpass collapse.

Areas all along the river have been sandbagged. This is a field flooded and a small bridge just about to be breached. As we drove through out the county we saw soggy fields and miles of sand bags and displaced birds and animals.

This is a field that has turned into an impromptu reservoir. The tiny white specks are gulls and the gray figure in the water is a Great Blue Heron. Its mate flew in just as I stowed the camera.

Planting, Part II

We have planted every square inch of available space in the green house and hoop houses, now the real work begins. A crew of volunteers, good friends willing to crawl around in the dirt, is on standby. After a glorious day of sunshine the soil is still too wet to work but the tension is mounting and the maestro declares we will plant tomorrow morning. I assemble the troops and make cake!

RT, aka the big boss with the hot sauce, drops the plugs in place for proper spacing and we set them in.

Planting in the field is just like planting in the green house except that the plants are much more spread out. RT cultivates each row then lays two rows of underground drip tape. Then we pull a roller over each row compressing the soil just a bit. Running water through the drip lines prior to planting revels each drip and we plant the seedlings accordingly.

Field planting is low dirty work. We are fortunate to have good friends who enjoy being outside crawling around in the dirt. We call it Bindweed yoga, each practitioner develops their own unique postures. RT demonstrates the squat and drop while Carey and Kath practice the one knee planting stance.

Carrie, good friend, talented musician and first year volunteer, demonstrates the two-kneed sideways pose--difficult to maintain, a rookie mistake.

Kath opts for the open leg frog squat, easier to maintain and allows more freedom of movement--truly a seasoned professional.

The rows outside are very long and seem to stretch out forever...
breathe, plant, stretch, breathe, plant, stretch, and move a foot, repeat. This is our planting mantra.
Just focus and breathe (and remember there is cake at the end of the day.)

Namaste

Planting

We have such a short growing window that instead of direct seeding all of our plants we order seedlings in plug trays. This gives us a six week jump on some tender annuals and a good head start for perennials. Our plants need to be seeded and started weeks before we plant and there is a high demand for seedlings each spring so we must make our orders in the fall. Second guessing the weather is the real challenge, we check the long term weather forecast (ha--may as well consult the Tarot deck), look at prior years, pick a shipping date and hope for the best. This year has been a real crap shoot and seedlings have been arriving daily in the pouring rain. UPS and FedEx trucks roll up and down the drive leaving boxes and boxes of plants--seedlings, annuals, perennials and shrubs.

A new shipment of seedlings from Bluebird Nursery.

Upon arrival I unpack the boxes, water the trays and hope for a break in the weather. The forecast is good, but the ground is so saturated we cannot work it.

Unpacking nursery shipments is always exciting--I'm challenged by some of the creative packaging, thrilled with the contents of each box and curious to where it will all go!


Plug trays--plastic trays filled with seedlings packed in finger-sized plugs of soil--watered and waiting to be planted. As you can see by the shadows, we have sunlight!

RT, the maestro, gets creative, re-purposing space in the green house and hoop house for some of the new seedlings. Planting plugs is low work--I crawl, squat and duck-walk down the rows planting seedlings in the support netting. (As the plants grow rows of netting support the stems and prevent the plants from foundering.) Carey, our new wonder woman helper, makes the work go much faster. We start out stiff and chilly but soon the sun has warmed the hoop house and the work goes quickly.

An excellent shot of the support netting, the plug trays and Carey, our new wonder woman!

Carey and I are planting snap dragons. The seedlings are very small and the plugs themselves are only the size of the tip of my finger. They must be pulled gently from the tray and then set into the soil. The snap trays hold 250 seedlings. In no time we have set out planted several trays-whew!

Wet

Rain drops on the arctic willow.

Last year was the wettest, coldest spring for Bindweed...this spring it is colder and wetter. Last spring we had an early warm spell teasing us into spring fever but this spring there has been little warming and we suffer from cabin fever.

Barn door through the wet willows.

We long to get out and work, but when there is a break in the wind and snow it rains. The fields are slick with mud and standing water. It feels like Ireland, I'm craving dark beer and soda bread. I want to sit in a pub, sing folk songs, write obscure poetry, talk in a west Cork accent--I think I'll just sleep all day.

Purple hyacinths

The river rises and rises. We see that some of the pylons have been removed, others have been repositioned to form a water barrier. We are near the river but on high ground and there is no danger of flooding, I remind myself of this when we see a pair of mallard ducks floating in a walk row. We try to stay positive, crack jokes, do inside work, reorganize the barn, but it sucks and we continue to slog through mud and wind.



Between showers we harvest as much as we can. I take joy in every scrap of color, eat it up hungrily, bring it inside and wait for the sun.

Daffodils, hyacinths, ranunculus and spurge.

The Portneuf Project, Part II

Just over a week ago we attended the VIP Gala to celebrate the opening of the Portneuf Medical center and I am still a little star struck. I had hoped there would be some sort of open house at the new hospital but the event Friday night far exceeded all expectation. It was off the hook! From the valet escort on the red carpet to the last champange toast we were treated like celebrities.

RT in his perfect tux

As soon as we received our invitation to this "black tie" affair we found just the right tuxedo for RT. One brief stop and he has the perfect tux--the perfect style, the perfect fit and the perfect shoes--men are so easy.

My little blue dress

Finding something suitable for me was a little more difficult but we managed. Poor Ralph declared he was becoming my gay boyfriend as we made the rounds to find the perfect dress and shoes. He was actually very helpful, has excellent taste and gave very good advice. But I knew this shopping thing needed to end when he commented that the only thing left to buy was just the right "bling"!

A bit more relaxed after a little sushi and wine

We toured the hospital as a progressive dinner--following arrows and our noses through out the building, discovering a multi-course meal. Winding through the halls and up and down the elevators we were treated to fabulous food and drink.

We encountered beautiful art and photographs through out the entire building. The hospital itself is a work of art, beautifully appointed, showcasing fine art from many local artisans. One of the highlights was finding my piece, gorgeously framed in a lovely location. It is on the second level on the east side, opposite the balcony overlooking the stunning two story waterfall.

Obviously I am very happy, but so very proud and grateful for this opportunity.

After finding my piece we continued the tour, meeting people--old and new--and discovering Bindweed tulips. Two sides of Bindweed creativity were represented this evening--my artwork and our tulips. Our good friend and long time client, LD of Flowers by LD, did all the flowers for the event.

Besides the dreamlike quality to the evening, okay, and maybe a little wine haze, I was completely distracted and need to return for another tour. I was very preoccupied by the artwork, the food and drink, the flowers and people-watching! It was a feast of color, texture and style. We should all dress up more often. I loved the jewelry and the shoes--so expressive. I was very clever and got good shoes and was able to wear them ALL evening--many ladies gave up and were carrying their shoes way before champange and dancing.

Me and my sweetie

It was a magical evening, one we will long remember in many ways. I loved making this painting so this event was really icing on the cake. As a working artist I usually sell my best work but as I was finishing this piece it struck me that though it was sold I would always have access to it. And not only that, it is part of my personal legacy, something public that I am able to share. It pleases me to think that something beautiful I have tried to express might bring cheer to those in need.