"Spirit" of the season

Enjoying the wonders of nature can be a challenge in the middle of a bitter New York winter, but vintners and distillers have found a way to utilize the previous season's harvest well into this mean season of snow drifts and ice fields. And, much to my delight, I find myself enjoying the fruits of their labor--literally.

A recent trip to the Albany Distillery--billed as Albany's first distillery since Prohibition--yielded a bevy of tasty cocktails, prepared right on site by the husband-wife team of John and Brooke Curtin, and their partner, Rick Sicari. Utilizing the bourbon and rye they distill right behind the bar, they whip up delicious concoctions like the Moss Coal Mule: Coal Yard Bourban, Adirondack ginger ale, lime and fresh ginger served in a traditional copper mug; and the Ironweed Old Fashioned: their own award-winning "Ironweed" Rye ( a name which cleverly evokes not only the New York Ironweed plant, Vernonia noveboracensis, with its gorgeous purple flowers, but the Pulitzer-prize winning William Kennedy novel of the same name, which, not co-incidentally is set in Albany) mixed with "Luxardo Maraschino cherry muddled with orange, orange bitters and soda."

In addition, John gives guided tours of the process which I found incredibly informative. For instance, I didn't know that "whiskey" is the blanket terms for bourbon and rye. I was also surprised to see clear liquid emerging from the faucet of the final doohickey in the process (as you can see, my terms are very scientific): it was clear! But whiskey has an amber hue, doesn't it? It sure does, and that's due to the aging process in oaken barrels, which transforms the clear fluid into the rich hue we all love to see shimmering in our cocktail glasses.

Of course my explanation of the distilling process is sophomoric, at best. For a much better description, check out a tour. The information gleaned, as well as a few laughs (some of which are provided by the on-site cat, Cooper, who tried to climb into my handbag), is well worth your time. Tours run on Thursdays and Saturdays. Call (518)621-7191 or visit Albanydistilling.com for more information.

Yet wine lovers (a group of which I am a proud member) should not feel left out! There are dozens of wonderful wineries in our region, not the least of which is Brotherhood Winery in Washingtonville, New York. It's America's oldest continuously running winery, dating back to the 1700's. The proprietors cleverly skirted the Prohibition law in the early 20th-century by creating "church" wine for sacramental purposes.

The business has come a long way since those days, adding new buildings to the original stone structures (some of which burned to the ground a number of years back). Today, visitors can expect guided tours, a gift shop, fine dining at the on-site restaurant, and even event-hosting for special occasions, including fine touches, like hand-made wine labels for individual events, like weddings or anniversary parties.

I recently enjoyed an afternoon with a group of girlfriends, learning a bit about the wine-making process, including the time-consuming challenge of making champagne. It's a lovely way to enjoy time with friends while learning. And let's face it, what's not to love about sampling a nice array of the "fruit of the vines" in good company? For tour information, call: 845-496-3661, or visit them on the web: brotherhoodwinery.net.

How to make houseplants thrive

It's no secret that I love to be surrounded in lush greenery. But with my garden temporarily frozen under nature's wintry glaze of snow and ice, I must turn my plant passion inward: to my houseplants. These "homebodies" provide a temporary flora fix, yet it's always about this time of year that they start looking a little ragged and limp. What to do? I decided to give myself a crash course in houseplant maintenance. Here's what my research uncovered:

1. Most of us are killing our plants with kindness. We tend to overwater, which encourages fungus gnats to feed and breed in the moist environment. It may seem cruel, but we need to let plant soil dry out completely before we add more water. Fungus gnats are still active in January, so ensure your plants are protected against them by placing a garlic clove (yup, garlic wards off more than mere vampires!), narrow side up, in the soil of each and every houseplant.

2. Many of us let fallen leaves collect in the soil of houseplants to act as mulch. Not needed inside. Mulch is vital for protecting the roots of outdoor plants, which encounter extreme temperature changes, but indoors, the debris provides a home for wintering insects, which will allow them to thrive and multiply come spring.

3. Check those pots! The containers that many holiday plants come in don't have good drainage, which invites vermin to inhabit their space. One example: poinsettias that arrive as gifts, wrapped in holiday-colored foil. Remove the foil, make sure pot has adequate holes for drainage, and place it on a plate or disc to catch water overflow.

4. Shift plants around the house in winter. This is the best way to determine what light conditions work best for various species. This trial-and-error approach may be the key to keeping plants alive throughout the winter. I made a surprising discovery when I brought lantana in after a successful growing season. Knowing that this plant thrives in warm weather and sunlight, I placed two of my three lantana plants in windowsills. Since I ran out of room, one plant had to go in a semi-dark space. The surprise: the plants in the windows died, and the one in low light is actually blooming!!! My research into this indicated that some plants can really benefit from a "time out." If, for example, your Christmas cactus failed to bloom this past season, the problem can be traced back to the autumn. This particular plant thrives when watering is cut back, starting in early October. And like the lantana, it likes a little extra time in low lighting. Geraniums also enjoy a little time off from heavy-duty blooming. One winter I pulled all my geraniums from the yard, and hung them upside down in my basement, using the delicate roots to gently hook them onto wire hangers. Sound barbaric? Sure does. But every plant except two survived...and bloomed even better that spring!

Sometimes, my gardening friends, we have to be cruel to be kind. Plants are far more resilient than we imagine, and they'll thank us for reduced pampering in the form of brilliant blooms and plush leafy foliage.

Protecting the power of the flower

When it comes to my garden, I've found that, like many other things in life, decisions I make today affect the health and appearance of my outdoor spaces months--even years--from now. Case in point: my blue-and pink-blooming hydrangeas (Hydrangea macrophylla). A number of months ago I lamented the fact that they did not bloom last summer. My research indicated that our supremely cold winter last year was the culprit, as the continued, numbing cold killed off the tender buds (see my post from August 18, 2014).

This year, the winter in upstate New York has had intervals of deep freeze equal to last year's. Yet even though this season hasn't maintained the radical dip, it has flirted with the dangerous lows that threaten vulnerable plantings. And it's only January. We've got a lot of winter ahead of us. Any plants in pots had best be in a garage, shed or basement by now. And the hydrangeas? They're still susceptible to damage, and a few days of temps hovering near 0 degrees are going to hurt them, even if the thermometer periodically jumps up into the 20's and 30's. These plants can sustain temps of 5 to 10 degrees relatively well, but not any colder.

I decided to take action to give the hydrangeas a fighting chance to bloom come late spring: Last fall I wrapped all the hydrangeas (including white-blooming oakleaf hydrangea, because it develops buds in the late fall) in plastic chicken-wire-type netting. I found my netting in my neighbor's junk heap (thank you, Karen), but you can get something similar in any hardware or big-box home improvement store. I held the wire so that it was vertical, and wrapped it twice (loosely)around each plant. Don't cover the plants horizontally because subsequent snow will put too much weight on them, and could snap their shoots.

After plants were properly wrapped, I gently pushed fallen oak leaves in open spaces between shoots, and between the plants and the loosely wrapped netting, to provide a cushy little nest of warmth to help them weather the upcoming storms of the season. If you do this too, make sure to shred leaves a bit so they don't stick together and create a mat, which is hard for precipitation and sunlight to penetrate. They don't have to be shredded like mulch, just torn up a bit.

Since leaves tend to eventually settle near the base of plants, "fluff up" the leaves periodically to keep them evenly spread throughout. And add more as the season progresses. Before a bad frost, especially, top off the leaves with fresh ones, making sure to cover up to the ends, since this is where most of the buds are. The plant below is in need of a topping. As you can see, the leaves have settled into the plant base, which isn't helping those tender blossoms at the top of branches. I'm hoping a little TLC now will translate into flower power come next summer, but only time will tell. Stay tuned!

Keeping warm this winter

Keeping cozy when it's cold outside is one of the great challenges of living in upstate New York. Today the temperature gauge outside my kitchen window is reading 10 degrees, and the local meteorologist (gleefully, I swear--these people live for this stuff) reports that when you factor in the wind chill, the outdoor temp dips to a tepid 15 below! No matter how full our oil tank, and how often the furnace kicks on, we can't seem to keep warm.

As luck would have it, I was perusing the goods at the local hardware store this past weekend, when something interesting caught my eye: a bag with a flame imprinted on the front of it. And since my eye seems to be drawn to any and all things looking even remotely "fire like," or "flame worthy," at this time of year, I paused, and checked it out.

And that's how I discovered Qualiflame Energy Logs. Apparently these "wood" logs are made of compressed particles of sawdust. You know, the stuff you usually throw away? Among the claims made on the bag were: produces less creosote, pollution and harmful emissions than traditional logs." How? I had no idea. The bag didn't elaborate. But it did claim to "burn longer," and "produce more heat than traditional logs." At less than ten bucks a bag (30-lb 10-pack), I figured I'd try it out.

I was pleasantly surprised to discover that it did, indeed, burn about twice as long as traditional logs, and it felt twice as hot. In fact, it got so hot that my husband burned his hand on the nearby fireplace tool when he grabbed it.

Okay, so since it seemed to do the trick, I googled the product, and found out the hard facts about this hardwood byproduct. In terms of heat, it's hotter because it's so compressed, packing a walloping 8,000 BTUs of heat/energy per pound (as opposed to the 5,800-6,000 BTUs of the same amount of cordwood). And because it has a lower moisture content than traditional logs, it creates less smoke, so, fewer emissions. And the log bag is made of recyclable plastic.

I seldom promote particular products, but in this instance I feel a recommendation is both helpful, and timely. All in all, a relatively inexpensive way to turn up the heat during the coldest month of the year. The store I was in (Lowe's) also had "Eco-Energy Fuel Blocks," which I plan on trying next. Stay tuned...and stay warm!

Taking nature to extremes

Happy New Year! Here in the northeast, this holiday tends to be a chilly affair, and 2015 was no exception. It wasn't the coldest New Year's Day we've ever had, with temps hovering in the upper 20's to low 30's, but it's the sort of weather that discourages long walks or outdoor activities--unless you're a skier, skater or what is known as a "polar plunger." It's a label worn with pride in my family.

Each year, the intrepid and mentally unsound in my clan eagerly anticipate this day. They don skimpy clothing, and take a bracing plunge in the arctic-feeling waters of Lake George, New York. It has it's good points: the event entry fee benefits charity, and the local bar opens at dawn in order to provide plunging patrons plenty of liquid courage. It extends our holiday season of familial camaraderie, and provides stories and laughs that we relive often throughout the year--and for many years to come. The drawback: it's friggin' COLD!

Lest you think I am particularly brave or unbalanced, I state for the record that I join the ranks of bystander in this yearly event, yet my role is vital to the overall success of this adventure. You see, I document, in photos and video, all the crazy goings-on. It's a process which starts a full year earlier, when talk around the holiday table eventually swings around to "What theme shall we choose next year for the Polar Plunge?" That's right folks, not only does my silly tribe (and that includes my extended family) engage in a yearly dip into frigid water, but they do it in costume. It's kind of a Halloween-meets-wilderness-challenge sort of thing, and this year's theme--ER doctors, nurses, and a perfectly mangled patient on a stretcher--kept the streak alive.

Like last year, this season's participants made it into the local newspapers. And within an hour of the event, we were all sitting around a table at "Pizza Jerks" restaurant, soggy, but sated, recounting this year's heroics. We scrolled through pictures I took, watched my video, and trolled the Internet to discover whether the newspaper sites had uploaded any photos onto their website. We compared this year's medical theme to last year's construction-worker scenario, and decided this year was definitely superior. And of course, this year's 47-degree water temperature was preferable to last year's 35 degrees (with the air a balmy 18 degrees last year. Yikes!). We laughed, teased, playfully taunted each other, and discovered a way to enjoy ourselves outdoors, and within the circle of our family. Isn't that what the holiday spirit is all about?