14 Acres

Up to

2012-01-16T14:42:00.002-06:00

What have I been up to? A plethora of activity, including:

Rendering tallow and lard;

Baking (actually the hubby made this particular goodness);

Hauling several boxes of donated dishes to a local cooperative kitchen;

Making more garlic powder for someone who is certainly not my brother;

Celebrating two boys' birthdays (they decorated the cakes themselves);

Walking a bit;

Stripping dried seed from dill, arugula, radish and broccoli;

Making sense of my jumble of stored seeds;

and trying to enjoy the tiny bit of snow and the colder temps that arrived this week.

Just a typical January in western Minnesota.

Fresh powder

2012-01-06T00:32:00.002-06:00

No, not the fluffy white kind, unfortunately. The smelly garlic kind!

My garlic and onion storing skills are obviously lacking. I've already got sprouts on my alliums and it's only January. So, what does one do when one has numerous pounds of garlic about to go green? What do you do when life gives you lemons? You make garlic powder, that's what.

Peeling garlic for a couple of hours is not the most exciting thing in the world. Fortunately you can peel garlic while playing checkers, Yahtzee, RoboRally and any number of other games that little boys ask you to play. The game pieces may end up smelling a little strong afterward, but that's okay.

And whatever you do, don't let a little piece of garlic get stuck under your fingernail, and not notice. Because by the next morning it will have begun to burn a hole through your skin. Or at least feel like it's trying to.

After I got sick of peeling (about half way through my garlic stash) I sliced them in half and set them on my dehydrator trays. Knowing the tremendous smell this process would create, I set the dehydrator in the mud room and turned in on. Ten hours later, I had a bowl full of garlic chips. Which, in case you're wondering, are not nearly the same as potato chips and do not make a tasty snack.

My coffee-turned-spice grinder worked like a charm. I ended up with three full cups of garlic powder, which is about a three-year supply for us. We use the powder in pasta sauces, on steaks, in hamburgers, on garlic toast, on pizza, etc. But this homemade stuff is so strong a little goes a long way.

Now, what to do with the rest of my sprouting bulbs?

Autumn on the prairie

2012-01-05T23:37:00.005-06:00

Only, it's not autumn. It's winter. Or it's supposed to be, anyway.

We had a high today in the upper 60s. That's about 40 degrees above normal for this time of year. Everyone I talk to says, "Isn't this weather wonderful!" But their smile is worried and their eyes are strained. Up here in Minnesota, we start to get suspicious when we get too much of a good thing. The pendulum has got to swing sometime.

Mother Nature reigns our lives from solstace to solstace. Summer is warm and winter is cold and that's the way it works. Lots of rain in the spring, lots of sun in the summer and fall, and lots of snow in the winter and that's the way it works. Suddenly, here we are faced with a warm winter and no snow. This isn't the way it works. Something is wrong. Nobody wants to say the big CC words, for fear of looking like a fool or worse, a liberal, but people are beginning to wonder.

The ice on the lake is breaking up, and we have open water along the banks. Thankfully people got their icehouses off before the thaw, and nobody had to be rescued.

Yesterday I took my worried and strained self to Bonanza for a dose of prairie. It's good for what ails ya. Sitting on a hillside surrounded by tall grass and clear sky is a kind of medicine that most folks need and crave, only they don't know it.

I love dead trees. Or 'snags' as they are called in forestry lingo. They are so good for wildlife. The caverns made by woodpeckers looking for insects are very cool.

And the caverns in turn are used by other critters. Like squirrels feasting on acorns.

The insect larvae eat etchings under the bark of the trees. In some cases (as with Emerald Ash Borers) these trails end up girdling and killing the tree. In most cases the trees are able to withstand the damage.

Bonanza boasts many springs, including this one that has been converted into a flowing well. It's simply a pipe stuck into the ground at the right spot and the right depth. The water runs clean and clear and cold all year round.

The ice sculptures are fabulous. In the summer this creek is teeming with frogs.

Of all the natural landscapes in Minnesota, I think I love oak savanna the most. The perfect blend of tall grass and tall trees. A radiantly blue sky and cast of golden sunlight doesn't hurt, either.

Longjohns and Leis

2012-01-03T00:22:00.000-06:00

and a feisty game of RoboRally. A great beginning to the new year.

The last mill

2011-12-31T23:45:00.003-06:00

Several days ago the Swany White Flour Mill in Freeport, Minnesota, burned to the ground. To most folks who buy their flour at the grocery store, this news is of no great import. To those of us who try their best to buy local, small farm food whenever possible, this news is immensely tragic. Swany was the only independently owned flour mill left in Minnesota. And now it's gone. The owner says it would be too costly to rebuild.

I've always loved mills. Whenever we go on a trip I find myself drawn to them. Grist mills, water mills, woolen mills. They are a glimpse into the past, a wonder of workmanship and engineering and optimism. They were an investment in a community's future, a promise of hope. From the farmer that grew the wheat to the miller that ground it, to the grocer that sold it to the baker that kneaded it. The Swany Mill was a piece of living history -- built in 1897, it had been running ever since.

It was a convenient place for us to stop on the way to or from St. Paul. I loved walking into the sales room, looking at the old flour sacks hanging on the wall, smelling the old wood and the particles of ground grain that hung thick in the air. The mill sold just about any kind of grain, whole or ground, to be found in the state. Normally I'd just buy two 25 lb sacks of organic flour, either white or whole wheat. At my last visit I splurged and bought something else--five pounds of organic barley.

We drove home from St. Paul on Wednesday, the day after the fire. We took the Freeport exit and drove past the mill site to pay our tribute. The only thing standing was the chimney and the old miller's house. The entire milling structure, all of that lovely grain and flour and wood and history, lay broken in a heap of charred rubble.

Today, New Years Eve, I made stock from leftover holiday turkey bones. Tomorrow I'll add the turkey meat, some carrots and celery and potatoes from my garden, some herbs and seasonings for a heartwarming pot of turkey soup. And I will add some Swany White barley, and savor the memory of a lovely old mill gone before its time.

Blow wind, blow!

And go mill, go!

That the miller may grind his corn,

That the baker may take it,

And into bread make it,

And bring us a loaf in the morn.

Tidings

2011-12-20T21:31:00.020-06:00

It doesn't feel like winter. Daytime highs are still in the 20s and 30s. Just Sunday we had a high of 50, melting the few small patches of snow leftover from November. The ground is brown and bare and the sun shines bright in the sky. Not that I'm complaining, mind you. It's just, you know, odd. And mildly unsettling. Like winter is saving all of its gusto for January, when we'll be decked with storm after storm, buried in five feet of snow and ice.

Last year at this time we already had one major blizzard under our belt and another one on the way. This year, it doesn't look like we'll get any snow before the weekend. So much for a white Christmas.

We've had a gamut of Christmas programs this month at the boys' school.

Graham was a mouse in a Christmas play.

Owen is taking band this year. He plays the trombone.

And I have been busy making Christmas gifts. My sewing plans went awry when I discovered my 20-year-old sewing machine didn't have the right stitch that I needed to complete a project. So I had to come up with Plan B. No spoilers!

Two more days to get everything finished and wrapped and packed up before we go to Grandma and Grandpa's house for the holidays. The kids can hardly wait.

Merry Christmas, everyone!

Eye on the ball

2011-12-20T21:21:00.000-06:00

A tradition with all of my boys -- playing ping pong with Grandpa.

Nobody likes a skinny Santa

2011-12-20T20:54:00.000-06:00

Hubby made cinnamon roles for the park's muzzleloader hunt earlier this month. Of the dozen that I brought, the hunters took six. The following week I ate the rest. I couldn't let them go to waste now, could I?

Dry spell

2011-12-10T00:25:00.009-06:00

Yes, another blogging dry spell has hit us. No real cause this time, just general putting-it-off-ness. The kids got sick the week before Thanksgiving, then the holiday weekend stretched out into a very busy period at work, culminating in a muzzleloader deer hunt at the park the first weekend in December. Then my car broke down to the tune of a $1400 repair bill (sorry kids, no Christmas presents this year!). Gah. Writing out that check caused me real, physical pain.

Other than the above, I haven't done anything remarkable during the last three weeks. One thing I have done in my leisure time, however, is read. Quite a bit actually, and not just my traditional circle of authors (Ellis Peters, Louis L'Amour, Tom Holt, Terry Pratchet). I decided to go through and reread all the old fantasy novels I used to adore when I was a youngster.

I started out with David Eddings, then jumped into a bit of Barbara Hambly, and am now going through some Anne McAffrey. I think I'll head into either Raymond E. Feist or Stephen R. Lawhead next.

Reading these old books is like traveling back to my childhood. Although I do find myself being more critical of the writing itself. Some of the authors are as good as I remember (Eddings). Some, not so much (Hambly).

Sometimes I find myself thinking, 'hey--I can write better than that.'

When I was in eighth grade I started writing a novel. A fantasy novel, with main characters that I fashioned after the alter egos of six of my friends. I worked on it passionately for several years, writing and rewriting and tweaking words back and forth. But later in high school, my priorities shifted. I tried out for plays, made new friends and got a social life.

Somewhere along the line I set the book aside. It was packed away in a cardboard box, and as I went through college it moved with me, from my parent's house to my first apartment, to my next apartment, to my first house and then finally to this house. Right now it is resting high on the shelf in my eldest son's bedroom closet.

Rereading these fantasy books has got me to thinking. A tiny seed has been planted inside my brain. I've begun to think about hauling that old box down--maybe just to take a look through the old typewritten pages, say hello to the characters again and refresh my memory of that world. See if anything sparks to life.

I think about doing this, and then I laugh. Like I have the time to devote to writing again. Writing a novel like that is an all-encompassing thing, eating hours from the day and taking over large portions of your mental energy. I don't have time to write out my Christmas cards, let alone start working again on that novel.

But, like I said, a tiny seed has been planted. Maybe there's not enough water or sunlight for it to grow right now. But at least I know it's there if I want it, ready to break dormancy if the opportunity presents itself.

Stove pipe dreams

2011-11-17T00:35:00.006-06:00

This morning as I left for work I noticed a few small white bits floating down from the sky. It took me a moment to realize what I was looking at--the first snow of the season. Our lovely autumn has lasted so long it seemed it would go on forever. Glancing back through my blog, I see that the first snow of last winter occurred on November 16 as well. Well, there's a coincidence for ya.

Those few flakes were all we got today, but we're supposed to get more this weekend. Four to eight inches, with gusty winds that will drift the dry snow up and over everything in its path. Good thing the hubby tuned up the snowblower this weekend.

I really wish we had a fireplace. I think I could deal with winter better if we had a fireplace. Or a wood burning stove. At one time I looked into what it would take to install a wood stove in our house. Our electric furnace uses the only chimney we have, and home insurance companies really don't like it when a wood stove and a electric/gas furnace share the same chimney. So, a new stove would need a new chimney.

The only room we have for a wood stove is in our dining room. That means building a chimney up and over the roof of our third story attic. Thirty-five feet of stove pipe at $50 a foot is a no-go. The cost of installation would be more than the stove itself.

Or, I could move to a dream world and replace our current bargain rate kitchen stove with a beautiful dual fuel Aga range. Over the kitchen, which is a single story, the stove pipe would only need to be about fifteen feet long. The installation costs wouldn't exceed the cost of the stove in this instance. This is mainly because a new Aga costs over $5000.

My husband is not at all disappointed about the lack of wood burning potential for our house. He knows who would be doing most of the wood chopping.

But I can still dream. Winter is a good time for dreaming.

My art

2011-11-11T00:17:00.013-06:00

Our local foods group is hosting a fundraising Gala this Saturday night. Local wines, cheeses, appetizers and music, all good things. In a moment of weakness I volunteered to make soap for the silent auction. I shouldn't say it was weakness as such, only I've had so little free time and even less energy to do extra projects this past month. Also, it's been two years since I've made a batch of soap. I was afraid I would be a bit rusty.

Because of the short turn-around time I had to use the hot process method. The soap made with the hot process method can be used immediately, whereas cold process soap needs to cure for a few weeks. Both methods have their pros and cons, but I am considerably more accustomed to cold processed.

Fortunately, I had a supply of lye on hand, ordered this past spring. It has been my experience that over time lye (especially the stuff stored in plastic bags) will absorb moisture from the air and lose its potency. A good sign that your lye is bad is caking. If you open your lye container and instead of seeing fine crystals you see caked clumps, throw it out. This is the reason why I always order lye in cans, not bags. I pay a bit more for it that way, but it lasts a lot longer.

I had also ordered some new oils. Here's a five-gallon pail of coconut oil. Coconut oil adds lather to the soap. Every oil has its own particular properties that will affect the final bars.

Because this is a local foods event, I wanted to make the soap as local as possible. So I rummages around in my freezer and found a few old bags of rendered tallow. Tallow helps your soap harden nicely, and last longer.

First you create your soap 'recipe.' Then you gather your equipment, measure out your oils and lye, and combine them together. Lots of stirring is involved (thank heaven for stick blenders). Here is the soap mixture at heavy trace after the lye and oils have been combined and stirred well together. You can see the pudding-like consistency. With cold process soap, at this point you would pour the mixture into your mold and let it saponify (the chemical reaction that changes the oils and lye into soap) as it cured. With hot process soap, you speed up the reaction with heat. I cooked it in a double boiler on the stove top, but it can also be done in an oven or even a crock pot.

After it cooks, after most of the liquid has disappeared and saponification is nearly complete, it turns to a gel consistency. This is when you put the additives in, such as colorants, scents or botanicals. I made two different kinds last night: a lavender lime (lavender buds and lime essential oil) and a peppermint (with peppermint essential oil and powdered beet root). I was experimenting with the beet root, to see if it would turn the soap a nice red color. It did not. Instead, I just got brownish flecks. Oh well, live and learn.

After you put your additives in, you pour it into the molds. I use plastic drawers from those cheap storage cabinets you can buy at Target. Let the soap sit for several hours, til it is completely hardened.

Pop it carefully out of the mold, and score it for cutting. I decided to make large rectangular bars. I like the look of the larger brick size. They remind me of soap made back in ye olden days.

One four-pound batch made ten large bars, each averaging six ounces. The bars will shrink a little over time as more water evaporates out. The extra bits that I trimmed off the edges will be used in our house. Homemade soap is just too nice to be wasted.

And voila! The final product. This is one of the peppermint bars--you can see what I mean about the beet root speckles. It's not unattractive, it's just not what I was going for.

I think that's what I like most about soap making: the experimentation. The art. You can choose your oils, your colors, your shapes, your scents, everything. I don't really do 'art' as most people understand it. No painting, drawing, sculpture, photography, etc. Unless you count this blog thing as art, which some people may.

The science behind soap making also appeals to me. Figuring out oil to lye ratios, writing a recipe, following precise procedures. Also, as anyone who has ever used homemade soap will testify, the bars in themselves are fabulous. Creamy, rich and sudsy--and they won't dry your skin like commercial detergent bars.

I had forgotten how much I enjoy making the stuff. Now I've got the itch to make more. I'm thinking something with chamomile next time...

P.S. If you're interested in making soap, I recommend the 'The Handmade Soap Book' by Melinda Coss. It's got good info on ingredients and has some really nice recipes. It focuses, like most soap making books, on the cold process. And it's got a handy saponification chart. The book is a little lacking in its description of the soap-making procedure itself, but there's lots of info about that to be found on the internet.

It's all about the chokes

2011-11-08T21:20:00.000-06:00

I cooked some of the sunchokes with supper tonight. It was really easy -- wash; chop; toss with olive oil, salt, pepper, and garlic powder; saute for about fifteen minutes over medium low and then a few minutes on high for a final crisping.

They were yummy. Hubby thinks they taste like sunflower seeds, which makes sense since they are indeed a type of sunflower. The boys weren't big fans, but I didn't expect them to be. Not yet, anyway. I'm going to try to win them over gradually. Maybe I'll make sunchoke hashbrowns this weekend. Monkeys love hashbrowns.

Bird of prey

2011-11-07T23:22:00.004-06:00

This afternoon I was wandering around the shop building at the park, checking on fuel tanks and fire extinguishers, when I saw two large yellow eyes staring at me from the edge of the grass. I froze in place, and stared back into the face of a beautiful Great Horned Owl. It was standing on the ground, motionless, its brilliant eyes gazing at me.

I took a step toward it, then another. It turned its head, spread its wings, and flapped a few steps away before stopping and listing to one side. Uh-oh. A great horned owl resting on the ground in the middle of the day is not a good sign. A great horned owl unable to fly away is very much not a good sign. Something was wrong.

I went inside the shop and grabbed a large butterfly net and a pair of leather gloves. Then I went inside the office and found a cardboard box. Armed with my accoutrements, I went back out and crept quietly closer to the owl, getting within five feet of it before it started to shamble away again. Gently I eased the net over the owl's head and held it in place. Then I reached down and picked it up. A few wing flaps and a half-hearted bite was all the struggle it gave.

I put it inside the box and brought it in the office. I made a quick phone call to my friend in Granite Falls, a licensed wildlife rehabilitator who works with the Raptor Center at the U of MN in St. Paul and arranged to bring the owl to her house this evening.

Graham decided he wanted to go with me. We left at 4 pm and got there just as the sky was turning to darkness. My friend took the owl out of the box and examined it, feeling its pronounced keel bone and spreading its wings. The bird was painfully thin. It also objected to having its right wing spread out, which might indicate an injury. My friend said she would give it an IV this evening and bring it to the Raptor Center for treatment.

One of three things could have caused the bird to become so emaciated and weak. It could have West Nile virus, which has been killing young hawks and owls (and other birds) since it hit our state a few years ago. Or, it could be a young male that never learned from its parents how to hunt. Or, it could have sustained an injury to its wing, which then affected its ability to fly, and thus to hunt.

Staff at the Raptor Center will test it for West Nile. If the tests are negative, they will try to nurse it back to health. It might be that the bird is too far gone, too weak to regain its health. But they will try. They do wonderful things there at the Center, and I encourage anyone who is interested in birds of prey to check them out.

What's at stake

2011-11-05T11:31:00.001-05:00

Earlier this fall I was driving past a old farmstead grove when I noticed some familiar green wisps rising out of the dying grass. Asparagus! I made a mental note to return to the area with some wooden stakes, to mark the areas so I could find them next spring.

The fall has been fairly busy, so I didn't actually manage to get back out there until yesterday. The asparagus was still bright and green though, easy to spot. The ground was so matted with roots and fibers, and the clay soil so dry, that pounding in the stakes was a Herculean effort. For me, at least. After four of them I gave up, and instead tried to secure the stakes within the rusted barbed wire that littered the entire area.

I also found a plant laden with small red berries. I picked a handful and put them into my pocket in hopes of starting some asparagus from seed. Never done it before, not sure how it will work.

Now I just need to remember the stakes next spring, when asparagus season rolls around again. Or else all my effort will be for naught!

Medicine

2011-11-04T13:47:00.002-05:00

I've been feeling a little anxious lately, for various reasons. Not anxious as in 'slightly nervous,' but anxious as in 'psychological illness.' When I was 23 I developed a anxiety disorder and was on medication for a year. It was hellish. Since then I've learned to recognize the warning signs within me, and try (as best I can) to take steps to prevent it from progressing too far.

One of the ways I've learned to appease the anxiety is to spend time outside, forcing myself to recognize nature's simple beauty. On days like today, it isn't all that hard a task. We've had some ridiculously lovely weather recently--warm sunny days and cool clear nights. Geese and ducks are moving in the sky. Deer and turkeys are moving in the meadows.

Most of the trees are bare. Just a few oak and cottonwood leaves still clinging to branches. Tall stalks of wildflowers and grasses have shed their seeds. The corn and soybeans have been harvested, and farmers are tilling broad black swaths around the field edges.

Weathered fence posts and abandoned groves are lonely reminders of farms long gone. Skeleton trees shine white in the sun along old fields and sloughs. The lake water is clear and blue, reflecting the open sky. When the wind blows you can sense the distance, the vast oceans and forests and grasslands over which it has traveled.

I'm very fortunate to live here.

Our monsters

2011-11-03T16:42:00.001-05:00

Our three monsters, trick-or-treating along Main Street, on the Friday before Halloween.

This is what I'm talking about

2011-11-03T16:16:00.003-05:00

Murmuration from Sophie Windsor Clive on Vimeo.

The starlings that fly over our house in the fall look just like this, only in smaller numbers.

Leave taking

2011-11-02T22:43:00.000-05:00

This afternoon I walked out beyond our fields toward the yellow hat slough. I was lured there by the sounds of geese. I wanted to sneak a peak over the hill toward the water and see how many were gathered. But as soon as I topped my head over the ridge the birds saw me and took flight.

The air filled with the sounds of honking geese and flapping wings.

They flew north and then circled back, separating into smaller groups as they pushed on toward the southern sky. I watched them disappear over faraway trees. I hope they make it wherever they're going before it gets too cold.

Spot the Hen!

2011-11-01T22:37:00.000-05:00

Okay boys and girls! It's time for everyone's favorite game, Spot the Hen!

Take a look at the picture (of my very messy barn) below, and see if you can find the hidden hen!

Don't see her? Well, take a closer look ...

Getting closer ...

Here she is!

You found her! Yes, that's right -- she was hiding in a box of trash!

Now, exactly what instinct is it that tells a chicken the best place to lay her fragile eggs is in a box of rusty screws and nails? Hmm.... I don't think I have the smartest poultry on the planet.

And yes, as of today this hen's name officially became Spot.

Spookies

2011-10-30T23:13:00.000-05:00

Gingerbread cookies, cut with Halloween cutters. We'll decorate them after school tomorrow, before trick-or-treating. Graham asked me to make extra red frosting--it's going to be a blood bath in the kitchen, I'm afraid.

Fervent ferment

2011-10-29T22:23:00.007-05:00

Ten weeks since we put the cabbage in the crock. My Ball's Blue Book, the holy bible of canning, says this fermentation thing should only take three to six weeks. Moose muffins.

At three weeks, I tasted the kraut, and it tasted like soggy cabbage. At six weeks, it tasted like slightly tangy soggy cabbage. At eight weeks I could taste the sauer, modestly strong, but the cabbage flavor was still green and crisp.

Finally this morning I said, 'enough is enough.' The five-gallon crock had been sitting on my counter for ten weeks. My large canning pot had been hulking in my kitchen, sitting idle on the stove since my batch of plum jelly in late September. Ready or not, it was time to can the kraut.

I emptied the contents of the crock into a large stock pot, and brought it to simmer.

I filled hot jars with hot kraut, and gave it a boiling 15-minute bath. Nine pints and six half-pints, about 1-1/2 gallons total. Now I know that one medium-sized cabbage will make 1-1/2 pints of sauerkraut, when all is said and done.

Hubby tasted the results, and gave it a thumbs-up. I was too afraid to try it, myself. I don't know what I would have done if it had been awful. Much better to have the hubby be the guinea pig.

My first ever batch of sauerkraut! I feel my German heritage beaming at me, clinking large steins of frothy bier in my honor. It's Oktoberfest in western Minnesota, loud and strong. Maybe I'll make Bavarian pork hocks for supper tomorrow. Served with a heaping pile of mashed kartoffeln and home-made kraut.

Another sign

2011-10-29T21:38:00.000-05:00

that autumn's days are numbered.

Garden goodbyes

2011-10-22T00:27:00.000-05:00

The chard is so beautiful at this time of year. So vibrant, so rich. If the weather holds, I might get another cutting from them before the first hard freeze.

I harvested the sunchokes, separating out the smaller tubers and replanting them into a new bed. I think I got all of them out of the ground, but we'll see if I get resprouts in this area next spring.

The potatoes were dug, pulled against their will from the dark clay soil. Next time I am definitely using the straw-trench method. I'm tired of dealing with clay. The pitchfork speared through about 1/4 of our tater harvest.

The last of the zukes and tomatoes. I will miss them.

The only thing left to harvest (besides the chard) are the sprouts. I can't wait to roast a mess of these, picked fresh off the stalk. So soooo yummy.

The garlic has been planted and covered with rotting straw. I still have to do the fall garden cleaning--pulling cages and trellises, tugging sunflower and corn stalks, mulching raspberries. The season is almost at an end, and I can't say that I'm too disappointed. It was a busy year, a good year with all things considered, but I could do with a bit of a rest.

Saucy wench

2011-10-09T15:41:00.001-05:00

And I would not be offended. In fact, I would wear the moniker with pride.

Fall foraging

2011-10-06T11:32:00.001-05:00

We've done a bit of foraging recently. I like foraging--you get the rewards of good food without all the hard work that goes into a garden. If I had more time and more skill, I would learn more about wild mushrooms, another fall (and spring!) foraging treat. But for now I will stick with walnuts and apples.

Most of the black walnuts have fallen now. So it is a race to see who can get them first -- the squirrels or I.

I only picked about a third of what had fallen from one tree, about half a grocery bag's worth. Plenty left for the squirrels.

We also went apple picking. A friend of mine has a large yard with several trees, and graciously allows us to gather as much as we want. The apples were big and ripe, dripping from the branches. The older boys took turns using the elongated picker. Graham got to use it until he accidentally bonked Owen on the head. Then Owen got to use it.

We quickly harvested a good supply of apples, of unknown varieties. We can always go back for more if we like. Hubby is washing them today and will put some in our stock pot to begin simmering for sauce. I can't wait to come home and smell the autumn appley goodness filling the house.

Missing month, part five

2011-10-04T19:24:00.000-05:00

Fall colors have arrived in a blaze of glory. Lovely yellow cottonwood, orange maple and red sumac. We've had warm dry weather over the last two weeks, drawing out the color changes and ensuring a beautiful autumn.

The farmers are in the fields, bringing in the soybeans. From all accounts it will be a good harvest.

The corn harvest has a few more weeks to go. The dry stalks are standing tall and brittle, losing leaves with every gust of wind.

On a breezy day the corn leaves can travel for miles. They are carried across fields and roads, swirling in eddies of wind and pelting unsuspecting travelers. A drive down a gravel road becomes a scene from Hitchcock. Fitting, given that Halloween is right around the corner.

And that is the last of it, the last of the missing month. I hope to be more diligent with my updates. There should be lots to share, with potato digging, chicken butchering, costume creating, craft showing, apple picking and garlic planting coming up. Not to mention the visiting starlings, migrating geese and the first flakes of falling snow. So much to look forward to before Thanksgiving.

Missing month, part four

2011-10-04T15:02:00.002-05:00

Toward the end of September we packed our suitcases and took a trip to the Cities to visit family and celebrate birthdays. My middlest boy is now eight years old. Sigh. Time seems to be speeding up as my kids get older. Or rather, as I get older. My Dad warned me this would happen.

We invited most of the family along on a trip to Valleyfair. It was a beautiful day. At this time of year only half the rides are open, but because of school only half the crowds are there.

Also, at this time of year Valleyfair (or ValleyScare as it is called) is decorated for Halloween.

While the little kiddies rode the little kiddie rides, my brother entertained the older folk with his mesmerizing dance technique.

We packed lunches to cut down on the cost. My sister was able to get tickets through her credit union for 2/3 price. We all had a great time.

My sister brought along her first born babe, my niece Camryn, now five months old. She is a big big sweetie pie. And never fussed for a moment that whole afternoon. Should I warn my sister about them growing too fast? And time speeding up? In no time at all Camryn will be eight years old herself, and my boys will be in their teens. Aaah! I'm not ready for teenagers!

Missing month, part three

2011-10-03T20:06:00.002-05:00

Sally Cat had her kits at the end of August. We knew because one day she was very pregnant, and the next day she was very thin. We didn't find her den until mid-September, when the boys went to help hubby clear burdock out of the chicken pasture. Five mewing kittens were nestled into a pile of cut logs, but came out when they heard our voices.

We kept tabs on the kittens each day. One day, about a week after we found the den, I noticed that only three kittens remained. Hubby and I were shearing the sheep, so it was easy for us to keep an eye on Sally's comings and goings. All that day, she never went near her kittens. The day was cold and windy, in the 50's. It was forecast to head into the low 40's that night, with drizzly rain. All that evening I went outside to check on the kitties, hoping to find Sally Cat snuggled up with them in the grass.

Finally at 11 pm, my softie heart got the better of me. We brought the remaining three kittens inside. Next morning I went to the vet for milk replacer. We fed them with glass eye droppers, four times a day.

Three days later we headed to the Cities for Graham's birthday celebration. We took the kittens to the Animal Humane Society in Woodbury, where they will be cared for in a foster home until they are old enough to be adopted.

We still don't know what happened to the two other kittens. Either Sally moved them to an unknown location and abandoned the remaining three, or a wild animal got them. In either case, I'm glad I grabbed the kitties when I did, even with the headache and cost. I don't think they would have survived that night on their own.

Missing month, part two

2011-10-03T16:21:00.003-05:00

The garden has been generous in her bounty. A good year for cucumbers, beans, zucchini, cabbage, raspberries, garlic, chard, onions, basil, peppers and ...

melon. We had so many cantaloupe and watermelon that my kids would run screaming whenever I would come from the garden, arms laden with fruit. The chickens (and a few friends and coworkers) have been the happy benefactors of our over-abundance.

I've dried lots of cayennes in the dehydrator, but decided to try and hang-dry the most recent pickings. Hope they don't get moldy.

I also tried roasting a bunch of summer veges. Here is one of two pans of eggplant, tomatoes, zucchini and peppers. They will be added to pasta sauces and casseroles for winter fare.

I've ground down some of my alma paprika peppers into paprika. It smells nothing like store-bought paprika. I haven't used it in a recipe yet. I'm too afraid to try.

A good bit of canning and freezing was done this month as well.

The latest effort was a large batch of plum jelly. The plums came from my brother's boss. I was glad of them, seeing as there were no fruit to be found in my usual picking spot. Four gallons of plums yielding a multi-year supply of sweetness.

Missing month, part one

2011-10-03T14:43:00.001-05:00

Yet again, I have been absent without leave. It seems that when you let this blog-thing go a week or two, it gets harder and harder to jump back in again. Especially with my procrastinating, lazy nature. But I am feeling courageous this afternoon (at least for the next hour or so), so we'll give it a shot.

The very last week of August we took a two-day trip down to Sioux Falls. We hadn't had any fun trips this summer, and my parental guilt was kicking in fiercely, so when the opportunity presented itself, we took it and ran. While there, we visited:

The falls themselves. Much changed since my husband lived here when he was a boy.

The zoo. I had to take a picture of this cool goat habitrail. Wish I had something like this for my four-legged beasties. I also got to scratch the back of a beautiful milking Devon cow, rekindling my long-lived-yet-completely-unrealistic desire to own a dairy cow.

The USS South Dakota Battleship Memorial park, another place my hubby used to play when he was younger.

The Phillips Avenue Diner. I tried a southern favorite, Chicken and Waffles. An interesting meal, but not one I would have again.

The science museum. Kids had a good time, but only about 2/3 of the exhibits were operational. Lots of repairs and maintenance needed. Also, they had an agricultural display that really got my blood a-boilin'. More on that later.

And a hotel with a small waterpark. The kids had a blast.

Altogether, a good time. And we even got a few hours of sleep at night, which was more than I expected.

Someone's trying to tell me something...

2011-09-01T14:03:00.001-05:00

Busy day, random things

2011-08-22T23:55:00.002-05:00

Lovely cosmos.

Alien tomato.

I guessed right! Or rather, ripe!

Time to bust out the dehydrator again. And to plug it in on the porch, where the gas clouds from drying cayenne peppers can't hurt us.

We finally got a start on our sauerkraut. Eight heads of cabbage take up just too much space in the frig.

You'd think eight heads would make a ton of sauerkraut, but I think we'll end up with a gallon and a half, when all is said and done.

We were gifted a bag of beautiful green peppers from my friend Rebecca. So hubby and I decided it was time to make salsa.

All the veges (except Rebecca's peppers) came out of our garden. Onions, tomatoes, jalapenos, garlic, cucumbers.

We made two batches, one with jalapeno seeds and one without. Hubby tried the seedy salsa -- it made him take a step back and blink a few times. He gave it two thumbs up. I prefer the milder version, with extra cumin. I loooove cumin.

And how do you keep three little boys occupied while Mom and Dad are chopping veges? With cucumber boats, of course! The perfect size for little Lego guys to sail around in. Mix in a lot of whirlpools and pirate attacks and shipwrecks, and you've got fun for hours. Okay, maybe not hours. But long enough to keep little boys away from the cutting board covered in jalapenos.

Tip of the iceberg

2011-08-18T21:50:00.000-05:00

Hubby and I spent an hour in the garden today, simply harvesting. After an hour at near 90 degrees and high humidity we called it quits and brought all of our bags inside. We had barely made a dent. Tonight I will blanch and freeze broccoli, and maybe blanch and peel tomatoes. The cukes and beans can wait til tomorrow. And the mongo zucchini will make the chickens happy. Happy chickens lay happy eggs.

Green machine

2011-08-12T00:44:00.003-05:00

The garden is churning and chugging away, growing and ripening everywhere at once. I am trying, but failing to keep up with the harvest. I have definitely failed to keep up with the weeds, which are growing as robustly as the vegetables are. So forgive the foot-tall grass and thistle and pigweed and lambsquarters and velvetleaf and ragweed and campion, etc.

Here is the wall of beans. Some of the leaves and pods show a bit of rust, or fungus, or something, but it doesn't seem too serious. The cattle panels are proving to be an excellent trellis.

My basil patch is very healthy. Owen spent a good hour with a scissors in here today, harvesting the stalks about half-way down. I've got three grocery bags full of basil on my kitchen table, calling to me right now. But it's more fun to blog than to pick leaves, so here I am. I might be up awhile yet.

The Brussels sprouts are for the most part healthy. I've had my usual trouble with cabbage worms, but I think my most recent Bt application has knocked them back a bit.

Here's a large patch of peppers. My alma paprika and jalapenos are doing wonderfully. My one Napolean sweet that I managed to grow from an old packet of seeds is also doing well. The California wonder seedlings I bought at the nursery have yet to yield any fruit.

My first red cayenne! I need to get myself a spice grinder. And some rubber gloves.

The cucumbers are fantastic. I harvest a sackful one day, and two days later there is another sackful ready to be picked. I'm letting quite a few cukes get big and orange, for next year's (and the year after that) seed.

Two of the many watermelon. I still don't know exactly when to pick these. A few days ago I picked one with a large yellow spot on it, thinking it was ripe. It wasn't even close. So now I am hesitant to try again.

Similarly with the muskmelon. People tell me that it will 'smell ripe' and 'sound ripe' when it's ready. I've no idea what this means.

The Jerusalem artichokes are very tall.

I've harvested almost all of the cabbage. Several of them had begun to split. I planted a bunch of these, thinking that I might try to sell them (along with other veges) at the farmers market this summer. But those plans fell through, so now I have twelve cabbage heads on my table, waiting patiently next to the basil. Guess it's time to try sauerkraut again.

Lest ye think that all my garden endeavors this year were successful, let me assure you otherwise -- my potatoes and tomatoes are all dying of blight, my carrots and turnips never germinated, my radishes were magma hot, my scallions got lost in a mass of grass and my zinnia seedlings all died before transplant. But I must confess that overall, the balance is seeming to favor good over bad for this gardening year. And I am, as ever, learning more and more each season. I have already started planning for next year. For me, that's the most fun of all.

Full swing

2011-08-09T16:16:00.001-05:00

It was a glorious day to work in the garden. The harvest included dill seed;

eggplant and cucumbers;

tomatoes, zucchini and beans;

one watermelon, which I thought might be ripe,

but wasn't;

and about a third of the garlic. Also harvested, but not photographed: the last of the spring beets. I am going to experiment with drying the beets and powdering them, for a colorant in my soaps.

On a day like this, even the vastness of my garden weeds can't get me down. An evening of pickling and dehydrating awaits.

Fruition

2011-07-28T16:21:00.000-05:00

It's going to be a late night.

Handful of gold

2011-07-25T22:56:00.003-05:00

This is a bad year for jam. The state shutdown closed my favorite berry-picking spot (the park) for three weeks at the height of the season, eliminating any chance of a black raspberry or mulberry harvest. Also, I can find no plums on the trees, and I'm not sure why. We did have an especially wet, late spring this year--perhaps the blossoms never set properly.

So it's just as well that we planted a bunch of golden raspberry bushes in our garden this spring. This is their first year, so there's not enough to make jam, but there is enough for a few mouthfuls of sweet savor. I wanted golden raspberries because my husband's grandfather, who was a terrific gardener in his own right, had golden raspberries in his back yard. I had never heard of them before, and during a visit I distinctly remember going out and picking a few. They were mighty good.

I have also started a blueberry patch in our side yard. Five bushes, bought on clearance at our local nursery. Not much, but I've already eaten a few berries from them. It's a start.

Coasting

2011-07-24T00:31:00.001-05:00

The baseball season is over. Owen's team won their Pee Wee tournament on Friday. They were elated.

So, no more Monday and Wednesday night practices.

The boys' summer pottery class is over. Their ceramic masterpieces are now adorning our dining room shelves. So, no more Tuesday and Thursday morning classes.

The state shutdown is over, and I am back to work. This is what a Three Sisters Garden looks like after three weeks of complete neglect.

Sports and Rec over, shutdown over, holidays over. It's almost August. The summer is all downhill from here.

Waxing nostalgic

2011-07-23T00:37:00.003-05:00

It's been two years since I've had a good crop o' beans. Last year I grew Brittle Wax, which had done well for me in the past, but not so well this time. We had one or two meals' worth, but nothing extra to can, which was a huge disappointment to me.

This year I planted Rocdor yellow bush beans and Fortrex green pole beans, both from Johnny's. So far the pole beans are growing amazingly well. But they're still in the flowering stage. My yellow wax beans, however, have started producing like gangbusters. Long and slim, uniform and uncurled!

I've missed my wax beans, I'm not afraid to say. Now we just need the green ones to pick up the pace a bit, and we can start filling the pantry shelves.

Cabbage love

2011-07-22T23:38:00.005-05:00

How do you tell if a cabbage is ready to pick? Beats me. But I needed one for supper on Wednesday, so I picked one. A Jersey Wakefield cabbage, to be precise.

After cutting it open, I could see that it still had a bit of growing to do. But that's okay, it will still taste good.

I made one of my favoritest meals. It's from my Good Housekeeping Illustrated Cookbook, and it's officially called Pork Rib Dinner. But you can use pork chops or sliced pork hocks with it as well.

You'll need:
4 lbs pork pieces (ribs, chops, hocks, etc.)
1/3 cup flour
2 Tbsp salad oil
2 cups apple juice
1 Tbsp salt
1/2 tsp pepper
2 lbs potatoes, cut into 1-1/2" chunks
1 lb carrots, cut into 1-1/2" pieces
1 lb small onions, quartered (optional)
1 small head cabbage, shredded

Take the pork pieces and coat each with flour. [I've used sliced pork hock here.] Save the leftover flour. Heat a few tablespoons of oil in a Dutch oven and brown the pork pieces on all sides over medium-high heat. Remove the pieces to another plate. Reduce heat to medium.

Heat oven to 350. Into the pork drippings, stir the reserved flour. Add 2 cups apple juice. Blend well.

Return the browned meat to the pan and add 1 Tbsp salt and 1/2 tsp pepper. Heat to boiling. Cover the Dutch oven and bake in a 350 oven for 20 minutes.

Add the potatoes, carrots and onion and bake another 40 minutes. Stir. Add the cabbage and bake another 30-40 minutes, til veges are cooked through and cabbage is softened. Stir several times during baking.

If I made this dish in the fall, I could use all local ingredients. But it's too yummy to only have during one season. If you're pressed for cooking time, cut the veges smaller so they take less time to cook.

The best part of this recipe is the cabbage. In fact, I usually put one-and-a-half heads in the dish, and leave out the onions (which the hubby and kids don't like anyway). I love cabbage, in all its various forms. Raw, cooked, slawed, brined, whatever. Love love love cabbage. Yummmm.

Little boys

2011-07-20T17:48:00.000-05:00

50% goofball,

50% sweetheart.

Some days, however, the percentages shift dramatically. Usually favoring the 'goofball' side.

The first sunflower

2011-07-19T00:19:00.000-05:00

Cucumbers on Sunday

2011-07-19T00:03:00.002-05:00

I have never grown cucumbers successfully. I plant the seedlings in the ground and they grow feebly, winding their spindle vines reluctantly upward. At most I get one or two fruit from each plant before they give up the ghost. A few years ago I stopped trying to grow them at all. I must have a cucumber curse, I thought. Either that, or my soil was missing something the plants needed.

Well, this past winter while dreaming over seed catalogs, I spotted a variety called 'miniature white' and heard the siren song. Such lovely, small, pale cucumbers would look so nice in a pickle jar. And taste soo good on a summer salad. Okay, I decided, I'll give it another go. They will probably all die like the others, but what the heck.

Holy Moly! I don't know what I'm doing right this time, but these little guys are going gang busters. Yowza!

I've got two 5' wide cattle panels leaning up against each other, A-frame style, along this long bed. The catalog said the vines would only grow 3-4 feet but some have already exceeded that length.

Such perfect little fruit. Crisp and fresh, with no hint of bitterness.

I can't keep up with them. My frig is overflowing. Yesterday I made relish, with dill from the garden and a few cloves of last year's garlic. I scooped out the seed guts and then chopped the flesh by hand. I've used a food processor before, but I prefer hand chopping. The processor tends to mash the liquid out of the pulp. And, I prefer the larger, cube-shaped chunks I get with a knife.

Nine pints of pickle relish done. I went out this afternoon to the garden and picked a dozen more cucumbers. I swear they've grown an inch in diameter overnight. If this keeps up, my whole family is going to get pickles for Christmas this year.

Beets on Wednesday

2011-07-14T23:14:00.001-05:00

I planted red and golden beets this spring. Wednesday was beet harvest day. There's nothing more satisfying to a gardener than pulling a large, lovely beet out of the ground. Unless it's a potato. Or an onion. Or a turnip. Or a [insert root vegetable here].

The golden beets are true to their name. I can't say that I taste any difference between the two varieties.

I canned ten pints of pickled beets. The golden ones are certainly pretty--they look like peaches in the glass jars.

I had plans of tilling up the old beet bed today and planting some turnips and rutabagas. But a heavy rainstorm last night put the kibosh on that plan. The next five days are supposed to be in the 90s with heat indexes over 100. Which puts further kibosh on my plans. Tilling and planting in extreme heat is not my cup of tea. The seeding can wait another week, I think.

Peas on Monday

2011-07-13T00:20:00.000-05:00

This many pods

makes this many peas

which makes this many meals.

Androids dream

2011-07-13T00:08:00.001-05:00

of electrified goat barns! A ginormous Thank You to my brother-in-law Phill, who came out last week to run electricity to our barn. This is going to make a HUGE difference this winter -- no more extension cords for the heated water bucket, and no more forehead flashlights to see in the dark. Hurrah! The barn swallows were grateful for the light, as well.

And Eve gave it a special standing ovation. Thank you Phill!

Just as good as it looks

2011-07-12T23:48:00.000-05:00

Blueberry Cream Tart, from the Minnesota Homegrown Cookbook.

Testing the Tattlers

2011-07-03T18:47:00.000-05:00

Saturday morning (Shutdown Day Two) we went to Morris to pick strawberries. We came home with four gallons, two of which went straight into the freezer. Half-a-gallon went into the frig for fresh eating (strawberries and cream is one of my favorite things), and the rest went towards a batch of jam.

A couple of weeks ago I ordered some Tattler reusable canning lids, after hearing lots of good things about them. So I tried them out with the jam. At first I was clueless and tried putting the ring on the jar first (as with the jar on the left), then fitting the lid over top. That didn't work too well. Then I happened to pull out a ring and lid together (as with the lid in the bottom center) from the scalding pot. Duh. That made things much easier.

I must say using the rubber rings was way cool. Harkens me back to ye olden days, when rubber rings and glass lids were the norm. So far, so good on the seals. No pinging sound, but that's okay. The harkening makes up for the lack of ping. I'm ever fond of a good hark.

I couldn't wait

2011-07-03T18:17:00.000-05:00

for these to get any bigger. Must eat now.

The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly

2011-07-01T21:40:00.006-05:00

The Good...

Broccoli is ready! We had some with supper. Very yummy.

The pole beans are climbing their little vines out. This one is nearing 8' tall.

The zucchini are growing!

Owen is enjoying pee wee baseball. He likes playing catcher.

The two youngest rugrats are doing well too. I made tents for them the other night when we had a 'camp in' party while Owen was at 4H camp. They slept in them for most of the night.

The Bad...

The potatoes and tomatoes have blight. New spot in the garden (20' away from the old spot), new seed, new mulch. Same old blight. I'm not sure if I'll try to save the potatoes, I'll get a harvest out of them regardless, just not as big. But I will mix up a batch of copper spray to try to save the tomatoes. Next year I am definitely trying the blight resistant hybrids, heirlooms be damned.

I have also noticed a similar affliction on the thistle plants that I have pulled out of my potato patch. Could thistle be vulnerable to blight as well? If so, would they act as a carrier? If so, will the extensive underground root system of the thistle store the blight fungus for years to come? If so, I might as well just start packing my suitcase now.

The Ugly...

As of today I am on lay-off status from my job with the Department of Natural Resources. You might have heard something in the national news about the State of Minnesota closing down, because our Democrat governor and our Republican legislature can't come to an agreement on a fiscal year 2012 budget. Nearly 23,000 state workers got laid off today. Including me.

I worked 14 hours on Thursday shutting down the park. Turning off electricity, gas, and water lines; locking up boats, vehicles, and buildings; canceling mail and garbage pick-up; hanging signs like the one above; closing gates. Everyone said, 'the bigwigs will get it resolved in time,' and 'this is just a big political bluff.' We kept watching the news, watching our emails, waiting for the call that said everything was okay, an agreement has been reached. It never came.

The state is actually losing money every day this month that the parks are closed. July is our busiest time--we bring in about $1 million in revenue every week this month. Thousands of camping reservations had to be canceled, tens of thousands of visitors had to change their vacation plans at the last minute. It's all so very sad, and so very frustrating.

When will I go back to work? Your guess is as good as mine. Having the weekend off, my first July 4th weekend in 12 years, is kinda nice. Not getting a paycheck til who-knows-when however, is not nice at all. Especially since I am the only bread-winner in the family. So, stay tuned! I know I will be ...

You must pay the rent!

2011-07-01T21:03:00.000-05:00

Honey flowers

2011-06-27T00:40:00.001-05:00

This evening I harvested chamomile. Graham helped me for a bit, and afterward I told him to smell his hands. "Smells like honey," he said.

I didn't actually plant any chamomile this year in my deck garden. I planted a pot of it last year, and this spring it came up from seed. Everywhere. There is a little bit of it in nearly every pot, and I even spotted some in my driveway. I think this fall I'll till up a spot next to the house and scatter seeds, to give it a bed of its own. Otherwise it will completely take over my deck.

A small harvest, but it's a start. I'm thinking about drying these and saving them for a batch of homemade soap this fall. Maybe some shampoo bars. It's been a long time since I've made soap, and I really miss it. Besides, I've got to do something with all of that rendered tallow in the freezer.

Lotsa garden pics

2011-06-26T00:59:00.005-05:00

Finally, after two weeks of doing nothing in the garden because of rain and mud and more rain and mud, finally I was able to spend a few hours this afternoon mowing and hoeing. The weeds had gotten to the point where a scythe would have been handy. There still are quite a few left, but it looks a whole lot better than it did.

So, without further ado, here is what is growing in my garden.

Broccoli, and lots of it! I probably have about twenty broccoli plants. I'm going to try to freeze quite a bit of it this summer.

A few pumpkins for the boys come Halloween time.

Yellow crookneck, round French, sebring and black beauty summer squash. Yeah, I know, that's a lot of squash. The tiny plant in the front is a round French and the ginormous ones behind it are black beauty. They are obviously much larger than any of the other varieties. Also, they are the only ones not already affected by some downy mildew. Next year, I will only plant black beauty. Probably.

Cucumbers. Miniature white variety.

Hubby helped me put up a trellis (cattle panels, of course) for the cucumbers. The sunflowers on the end of the bed get to enjoy the trellis too.

Pole beans in the fore-foreground, basil in the fore-midground, beets in the back-midground, and garlic in the back-background.

The pole beans are Fortrex variety. They are starting to climb already. The tallest is about three feet high. I also have some yellow wax bush beans planted.

Here are scarlet runner beans at the base of my archway.

I planted a 4'x12' bed of Little Marvel shell peas. The pods on these are just starting to fill out. My snap peas matured faster than the shell, and we've been harvesting those for a couple of weeks now.

Rainbow Swiss chard. I have about ten of these plants.

Hale's best cantaloupe. The boys insisted I grow these again. I'll try to do a better job of judging ripeness this year, and elevate the fruit off the ground so the bugs don't get them.

Here's a long shot showing a few chard in front, followed by a couple of cabbage, followed by some broccoli, followed by Brussels sprouts, followed by a lot of cabbage. Pole beans and more broccoli to the right.

The tomatoes are doing well. No signs of blight so far. Knock on lots of wood. I planted San Marzano, mortgage lifter, striped German, celebrity and large red cherry. Thirty-four plants total.

Cayenne, California wonder, alma paprika and jalapeno peppers. Marigolds in front.

My golden raspberries are having to share their space with volunteer dill. I didn't get around to planting dill this spring, so I'm letting these volunteers grow.

A few Hansel and fairy tale eggplant

Lots of cosmos, some planted but most volunteer. I know now not to bother starting any seed indoors. They are serious self-seeders!

For the past few weeks our yard has been FILLED with these blue damselflies. They are literally everywhere. I attribute it to the fact that we have lots of tall grass around our yard. You won't see these beauties on a manicured, sprayed lawn. Other than being lovely to look at, these guys eat tons of insects including flies, gnats and mosquitoes. They are magical to watch.

I'm growing two varieties of Brussels sprouts this year, a few red Falstaff I started from seed and some Jade Cross I bought at a nursery. The red Falstaff stem is on the right.

After a few hours in the garden, Benjimouse came outside to help pull weeds. He lasted about two minutes. Mostly he just wanted to play swords with wooden stakes, drink my lemonade and take some pictures.

I so enjoyed working in the garden today. Yes, it is still a weedy mess, but thanks to the rain (the neverending rain) everything is lush and green. Hopefully tomorrow afternoon will be as lovely as this one, and I can continue plugging away at it.

Yeah, I may not be looking the best after four hours in the sun and the dirt, but believe me, I'm feeling pretty darn good.

The new recruits

2011-06-20T01:29:00.000-05:00

I wasn't going to order chicks this spring, but then on a whim I went ahead and did it anyway.

I'm glad I did.

These women killed my chickens

2011-06-20T01:11:00.008-05:00

It's their fault, really it is. They might look like nice little old ladies, but deep down they are fiendish, merciless killers. It's theirs, and the dozen other women who showed quilts at the park's quilt show last weekend. Honest. Cross my heart. Totally true.

Okay, not really.

It is MY fault that 3/4 of our chickens were slaughtered by raccoons over the course of three days. The three days of the quilt show--three days where I was working long, hard hours and coming home exhausted at the end of the day. Too exhausted to notice their dwindling numbers when I gathered eggs and fed them. Too exhausted to go back outside at dusk to shut them in, thinking them safe in their fenced run area. Too exhausted to see the ground dug out from one spot under the fence, and to see the trail of feathers heading into the woods beyond it.

We have six hens left. All of the old favorites are gone, including our broken-toe roo and our one-eyed roo. My friendly old Delaware is gone. All the Mr. Hairy's are gone. My lovely blue-laced red wyandottes are gone. All over the course of three stupid, stupid days. All because of stupid, stupid me. After six years of keeping chickens, you'd think I'd learn something.

The remaining hens are all locked in the coop until we figure the raccoon situation out. My brother has promised us a 12-gauge. Maybe we can borrow a large live trap from a farming neighbor. I've never shot a living animal before, but I don't anticipate having any qualms in this circumstance.

Cookout haiku

2011-06-15T00:27:00.005-05:00

Dogs cook as men watch

boy blowing marshmallow flames

bellies are happy.

Gone fishin'

2011-06-14T23:24:00.000-05:00

We didn't actually catch any fish. But it was a lovely evening.

The baker crows at midnight

2011-06-06T00:31:00.001-05:00

These will go nicely with my birthday breakfast tomorrow morning.

Blueberry Rhubarb Muffins
Makes 12 muffins

1-1/4 cups flour
1/2 cup sugar
2-1/2 tsp baking powder
3/4 tsp salt
1 egg, slightly beaten
3/4 cup plain yogurt or milk
1/3 cup vegetable oil
1/2 tsp vanilla
3/4 cup diced rhubarb
1 cup berries [the original recipe calls for strawberries, I used blueberries]

Preheat oven to 400 F. In a large bowl, mix flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt. In a small bowl, combine egg, yogurt, oil, and vanilla. Stir egg mixture into flour mixture just until all ingredients are moistened. Fold rhubarb and berries into batter.

Divide batter between 12 greased muffin cups. [With blueberries, it might be better to use paper cups.] Sprinkle tops generously with sugar. Bake in preheated oven at 400 F. for 20 to 25 minutes or until golden brown.

Adapted from Joan Halquist's recipe, in "The Minnesota Homegrown Cookbook."

Helping

2011-06-05T00:04:00.000-05:00

You can't make an omelet without breaking a few eggs. And you can't raise boys without breaking a few windows, chairs, dishes, lamps, beds, cameras, clocks, etc. etc.

In the beginning ...

2011-06-04T10:16:00.000-05:00

... there were radishes.

Happiness is a warm cattle panel

2011-05-31T23:14:00.001-05:00

The farmer who leases our alfalfa pays part of the bill with cash, and the other with trade. Earlier this spring he delivered thirty bales of straw to my garden, and a few weeks ago he brought out ten cattle panels. Actually, some of them were cattle panels, some were sheep, and some were hog panels. In other words, some were five feet tall, some four, and others three. Give or take a few inches.

Cattle panels are wonderfully versatile things. They are sturdy enough to hold up to livestock abuse, hence their name, and are quick and easy to install as temporary or permanent fencing. But I did not get these beauties for the goats. Oh no, no, no.

These panels are strong indeed, yet they are also flexible enough that with a bit of determination, strength, and coordination they can be bent to suit various needs. Right at the moment, my needs are garden-related. More specifically, bean-related.

It's kinda hard to see in this picture, but in the center are our new pole bean supports. Hubby took four of the cattle panels and bent them in half. He then drove in a fence post slanty-wise into the soil and secured the panel to the post with steel wire. Each 16-foot-long panel make an 8-foot-tall double trellis. It's a good thing I'm pretty tall myself, otherwise come August those upper beans would be pretty hard to reach.

Here's another panel, bent into a peaked archway entrance for the garden. The boys and I planted scarlet runner beans at the base. I can't wait to walk through it this summer, when it's covered with brilliant red blossoms. (And then later in the year, when the bean pods are hanging down from the top and banging me in the forehead.)

So, next time you pass by a farm auction, stop by and let your imagination wander. One farmer's scrap metal is another gardener's delight!

Jim Henson's garden babies

2011-05-26T21:59:00.001-05:00

Baby chard!

Baby lettuce!

Baby beets!

Baby spinach!

Baby peas!

Baby radishes!

Baby shallots!

And teenager garlic.

Mo' hair

2011-05-26T21:22:00.001-05:00

Foraging and Feasting

2011-05-13T22:43:00.010-05:00

Foraging, you ask? Why, yes! Last Saturday Graham and I headed southeast to Moonstone Farm and the annual 'Grasp the Nettle' workshop. Moonstone Farm is a lovely place, run by lovely farmers Audrey and Richard. We had a group of about fifteen wild foodies hiking around the woods and streams learning about eating off the land, and afterward we all worked together to forage our own ingredients to prepare a spring greens feast.

I was assigned to Team Nettle. Three of us cut enough nettle sprigs to feed a small army.

This picture shows only half of what we picked. We washed and drained them three times to get out the grit. After washing, we put the nettles in a crockpot with butter and olive oil to simmer down. Cooking serves to nullify the sting of the plant. After it's cooked, it tastes somewhat like spinach.

We also had some ramps to play with. Aren't they pretty? These were sliced, and some were added to my nettle dish and others added to a burdock stir fry.

Here is Team Burdock, cutting and washing and peeling burdock roots. They probably had the hardest job of all of us. You've got to dig a few feet down to get to the tender part of the root.

The root, ready for slicing.

Slicing and sauteing burdock in olive oil.

Here's Team Salad, cutting cattail roots. At least the person on the right is cutting cattail roots. I'm not exactly sure what the person on the left is slicing.

Some of the nettles went into a large pot for a spezz-something soup. (I forgot the name of it, but it's Italian and has eggs, cheese and sausage in it as well.) We also were treated to some dandelion flower tempura, which was very yummy. Graham helped pick the dandelion heads.

Audrey had some nettle pasta made for us already.

One person made a dandelion leaf pesto.

The sliced burdock was added to some garlic chives and Solomon seal in a tasty stir-fry.

My friend Rebecca was on Team Salad, mixing together violet leaves, cattail root and virginia waterleaf with violet flowers sprinkled on top.

My favorite dish of the day was definitely the soup, with the burdock stir-fry and wild greens salad tied for second. The nettle pasta was pretty good, but the dandelion pesto was too spicy for my tastes. The worst dish of the day--my sauteed nettles. Other people liked them, but I didn't care for them at all.

Graham had a grand time as well. He spent the day playing with a new friend, and I only had to talk him down from the porch roof twice. Here he is trying to light a dandelion head on fire. His favorite dish was the nettle pasta.

So, with the current crop of dandelions in my garden (and me not able to till or mulch them), plus the nettle in the goat pen (that the goats refuse to eat), and the bountiful amounts of burdock in my yard, I could feed my family for days on end. And who knows, I just might try. Foraging for wild food is much easier (and much tastier) than it seems.

My mother's kitchen

2011-05-08T21:56:00.004-05:00

Today is Mother's Day. I slept late and was treated to a hearty breakfast in bed, brought upstairs by proud, beaming little boys. Benjamin made the tea, Graham the toast and Owen the eggs. Rain and thunder promised a few lazy hours spent reading a new novel. After the rain stopped, hubby and I worked in the garden a bit, before the wind whipped us silly and another dark cloud passed overhead with more heavy drops.

After breakfast I called my mother to wish her a happy mothers day. She and the rest of our family (my sisters and brother) were going out to lunch. I felt guilty not being there, but we had just come back from a visit three days ago. A slew of Canadian relatives had found cheapo flights and flown out mid-week, and we dropped everything to drive to the Cities to see them.

It was a grand visit, lots of talking and chatting and laughing, with games of tennis and ping pong to liven things up. Most of the time was spent in the kitchen, sitting and standing around the table, cooking or eating or playing cards. That kitchen has served as the focal point, the heart of the house ever since I was a child. My parents have on occasion talked about replacing cabinets, fixtures, brick siding, etc. I express my outrage at each suggestion. I almost rebelled when they replaced the linoleum floor with hardwood ten years ago. Nobody messes with my memories.

And at the center of those kitchen memories is my mother. Meals cooked, pots scrubbed, quilts sewed, coffee drank, books read, cigarettes smoked and card games played. Every trivet on the wall, every goblet on the shelf, every tea bag in the crock are there because of her. If a kitchen is the heart of the home, a mother is the heart of the family.

If you click on and zoom into the photo above, you can read the sampler hanging on the wall behind my mom. It says, 'A Good Mother Makes a Happy Home.' I am fortunate enough to have been blessed with both.

Happy Mother's Day to you all.

Getting started

2011-04-27T21:41:00.001-05:00

Monday was a fabulous day. Perfect temps, perfect winds, just perfect for working in the garden.

This year we expanded our garden to nearly twice its previous size. Hubby did a lot of tilling while I staked and stringed out the new beds.

This is the other end of the garden. You can see garlic patch in the center, surrounded by straw. The brownish color of the foreground soil is due to the chicken litter we spread over it last fall.

I ordered lots of asparagus crowns this year, hoping to get a large bed established.

After the asparagus was planted, we put in the potatoes. Number Three Son helped.

After the potatoes we broke for supper. But right after supper I and the two littlest monkeys went right back out to plant the peas, shell and snap. The boys liked putting the peas on the soil and pushing them in with their fingers. They felt unrestricted by bed borders, however, and thus I will have pea shoots growing up everywhere in my garden this spring. Which is just dandy.

Tomorrow plans to be another beautiful day. On top of the garden to-do list: planting the 50 raspberry canes that came in the mail yesterday. After weeks of cold wet weather, spring has finally arrived. Temporarily, at least.

Mr. Hairy is a mom

2011-04-23T20:55:00.002-05:00

Remember in another post when I said we were getting chicks this summer? Well, what I should have said was we were getting chicks TODAY!

Several weeks ago my white silkie hen decided that come heck or high water, she was going to sit on a spot on the floor and try to hatch an egg. Silkies are notorious for their broodiness, and to be honest that was the reason I got her in the first place. I was thinking at the time (last year) that this spring I might like to try hatching a few eggs. So, when she went broody last month, I decided to just let her sit there and see what would happen. In the end she ended up sitting on six eggs, some of them not her own.

Every few days I would lift up her rump to check on the progress. 21 days came and went, and I figured that for whatever reason (probably the cold, damp weather) the eggs weren't going to do anything. But being the lazy person I am, I just let her keep setting til I figured out what to do.

Then this evening, I lifted her up and saw two little fuzzy black things drop out from under her wings. Chicks! Teeny tiny black peeping chicks!

Enter frantic mode. After a hurried supper, hubby and I set up the big brooder cage inside the coop, layered it with new hay and put in a small feeder and waterer. We moved the mamma and her babies and the unhatched eggs (just in case) to the new, more protected location. I wanted to be sure that the barn cats and the rest of the chickens weren't tempted by the new babies.

Of course I have no chick feed, and tomorrow's Easter, so all the stores will be closed. They will just have to survive on layer feed until then. I'll have to go to the grocery store and get some more parakeet grit. And I've just remembered about the danger of chicks drowning in water, so I must find some marbles or rocks to put in the base of the water fount. So many things to do!

Hunting outdoors

2011-04-23T16:46:00.003-05:00

A quick peek at a few things that are trying to make a go of it, in our cold drizzly gray weather.

Garlic is up! 100% germination. Hooray!

Plus a few garlic clumps that I missed from last year's harvest.

Self-seeded lettuce from last year's plants.

And regrowth from some Brussel Sprout stumps. Our long, deep snow cover apparently gave the roots enough protection to ride out the winter. I was tempted to let these grow out and see if I could harvest some seed, but from what I understand about brassicas you need lots of flowering plants to get a good quality seed harvest. Plus these are probably hybrids, and wouldn't breed true. At least I know it could be done if I wanted to try.

Rhubarb!

Tulips!

And an old bed frame!

No, this didn't grow here. We put it out in the front yard late last fall, when we had our attic insulated. At the time I was thinking I could do something really creative with it in the yard or garden. I've seen lots of pictures of 'flower beds' using old bed frames. But looking at the thing now, I am at a loss. Perhaps someone with a lot more imagination than I will come up with something brilliant. If so, please share!

Hunting indoors

2011-04-23T15:31:00.005-05:00

We celebrated Easter a week early this year, thanks to the inconvenient timing of this spring's sport fishing opener. Fishing opener weekend marks the beginning of the park's camping season, and the beginning of my work-every-weekend-til-Labor-Day routine. I don't mind working weekends in the summer when I can spend time with my kids during the week, but during April and May while the kids are in school it's kind of a bummer.

Family came to visit, and we painted eggs. Easter is the only time of year that I buy eggs from the grocery store. The bright colors just don't work on our own brown eggs. Speaking of eggs, we're getting at least a dozen a day from the ladies now. My husband rolled his eyes when I told him I had ordered more chicks for this summer. You can never have too many eggs, right??

In the background of this picture you can see my seedling set-up. I've got two card tables against the wall. On top of the tables are my potted herbs and a tray of planted seeds. I've got two fluorescent shop lamps suspended underneath the tables, giving light to my seedlings. The seedlings themselves are in paper cups, which are crowded into (new and clean!) cat litter boxes.

Space under the lights is at a premium. I've already moved my cold-tolerant veges (Brussels sprouts, broccoli, cabbage, chard and lettuce) to the three-season porch to make room for the peppers, tomatoes and eggplant. Soon I'll be starting my cukes and squash, which will create even more crowding. I so need a greenhouse.

We had the egg hunt on Sunday morning. I was hoping for an outside hunt, but apparently the Easter bunny thought it was too cold and drizzly (which it definitely was). So we were indoors. As you can see, the absence of opposable thumbs apparently doesn't hinder the bunny from hiding eggs in screw-top jars. Also, here is another rare grocery store purchase of mine, a bag of flour. My 25-lb bag of organic Swany Mills was running dry, and our local co-op had run out. Next time we drive through Freeport, Minnesota, I'll be sure to buy two big bags of the good stuff.

Hoop Dreams

2011-04-12T22:57:00.013-05:00

Last week I went to a workshop on high tunnels, or hoop houses as some folks call them. It was sponsored by the University of Minnesota and featured several speakers talking about the ins and outs of season extension using this sort of technology. I use 'technology' loosely, as the ideas behind high tunnels (and low tunnels, for that matter) have been around for decades, if not centuries.

It was a really great workshop, and it got my mind abuzz with all sorts of possibilities. I'm planning on trying a bit of low tunnel action this spring, in fact I've got all my metal hoops and woven cloth ready to go. I just need a nice day (when I don't work!) to set it all up, and transplant my lettuce seedlings. Maybe plant a few radishes and arugula. And spinach. And kale. You get the drift.

After all the speakers were done we took a tour of the university's tunnels, located in Lamberton.

These tunnels have roll-up sides. Most tunnels are manual roll-ups, but these were thermostatically controlled. The controls added another $1400 on to the cost of the tunnel, but if it saves a roasted crop due to someone's negligence, it may be worth it. Temps in these tunnels can spike up to 100 degrees just a few short hours after sunrise, so you really have to be on the ball with the ventilation.

Here's the thermostatic controls (I think).

The inside of the tunnel was lovely. This one had five rows for veges. The speakers explained that there are three zones in these tunnels -- the outer cooler zone, the intermediate zone, and the center warm zone. The cooler zone is along the edges by the vent flaps, and that is where they plant cool season crops.

Like these! To help protect the plants even further in the cold weather, a low tunnel can be put inside the high tunnel. In his book 'The Winter Harvest Handbook', Eliot Coleman (regarded as an expert in season extension gardening) highly recommends this method for growing veges during the colder months.

Little lettuces, I think.

All of the speakers said that even though it's not ideal, it's pretty much a necessity to use black plastic mulch to control weeds. Weed control is a big issue in high tunnels, which makes sense. What's good for the goose is good for the gander. If your veges will love living in a high tunnel, imagine how much the weeds will love living in one!

A big benefit to high tunnels is the ability to control irrigation. Here is the water set-up as it enters the high tunnel. It gets sent down a main PVC pipe, which is connected to drip tape.

The drip tape is run just on top of, or just buried under the soil along the planting beds. Beds are either 18 or 24 inches wide. The pathways in between are usually covered with newspaper and straw. The drip tape has holes along its length, kinda like a soaker hose, but more flimsy. Most people don't re-use these tapes. Rather, they throw them away and buy new every year. They said that after awhile the holes clog up, either from soil or from water sediment.

They did mention that if you're using hard water from a well, you'll probably want to install an in-line filter somewhere along the line, otherwise these tapes will clog up really fast. I asked a guy about the water usage involved and whether a home pressure tank could handle the quantity, and he said easy peasy, unless you have a monstrously huge tunnel with lots of tape.

At the ends of the center and intermediate beds were these pipes stuck into the ground. Another observer and I figured they must be for installing trellises. The speakers had made a point of telling folks not to use the structure of the high tunnel as an anchor for trellises, as the weight of all the tomato or cucumber vines would quickly collapse the frame. These pipes make a good anchor for a 4x4 post, which could support a system of trellises along the tunnel's length.

Several of the speakers spoke of their experience with tunnel collapse. Sturdy construction is key, especially with the end walls. Timber framed end walls are strongly recommended, as well as a good wind break. Setting the end posts (if not all the posts) in concrete isn't a bad idea.

There was so much information shared, much too much to relate here. Season extension shows so much promise for us here in the frosty upper midwest, and could do so much for the local food momentum. Our state agricultural department even has a cost-share program (called EQIP) to help farmers install high tunnels on their property.

Like I said, my mind is abuzz. Time to digest these ideas and see what's plausible in the immediate future. Do I really have the time to manage a high tunnel? I don't know. Probably not. But it would be fun to try.

Breakfast, anyone?

2011-04-10T00:32:00.000-05:00

The recipe

2011-04-09T20:28:00.003-05:00

As requested.

Sweet Carrot Muffins
From Williams-Sonoma's book 'Bread'
Makes 14 muffins

Ingredients
Melted butter for greasing
4 large eggs
3/4 cup canola oil
1 1/2 tsp vanilla extract
2 cups flour
1 3/4 cups sugar [I use just 1 cup]
2 tsps ground cinnamon
2 tsps poppy seeds [I've never used these]
1 tsp baking powder
1 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
3 cups shredded carrots
3/4 cup dried cranberries or raisins [I use dried cherries]

Directions
Preheat the oven to 350 F. Have ready two 12-cup muffin pans. Grease 14 of the cups and fill any unused cups with water to prevent warping. [I always wonder why they didn't just adjust the recipe to make 12 muffins, rather than the odd number of 14...]

In a large bowl, combine the eggs, oil, and vanilla. Beat vigorously with a whisk [or with an electric mixer] until smooth and slightly thickened, about 1 minute. In another bowl, stir together the flour, sugar, cinnamon, poppy seeds, baking powder, baking soda, and salt. Gradually stir the flour mixture into the egg mixture and beat just until smooth, about 20 strokes. Scrape down the sides of the bowl. Fold in the carrots and fruit just until combined. Spoon the batter into the muffin cups, filling each cup three-fourths full.

Bake until golden, dry and springy to the touch, 20-35 minutes. A tooth-pick inserted into the center of a muffin should come out clean. Let stand for 10 minutes. Using a small knife or spatula, remove each muffin from its cup and place on a rack. Serve warm or at room temperature.

Make-ahead tip
The muffins may be frozen for up to 2 months. Reheat in a 350 F oven for 8-10 minutes.

The big melt

2011-04-05T21:05:00.003-05:00

High temps in the 40s over the last few days have brought a dramatic change to our landscape. The thick layer of snow blanketing our ground has turned into a mushy soup of water and mud. Other than a bit more laundry and boot-drying to do, I am a big fan of the mushy soup. Spring is on the way.

The migrating birds are back in force. I've seen bald eagles, great blue herons, swans, geese, robins, and blackbirds. I love the call of the red-winged blackbird, I think it is my favorite bird song. Our own non-migrating chickens, who hate walking on snow, have finally summoned the bravado to venture outside. They had a lovely day today scratching in the dirt, gobbling up the errant worm. I even caught two of them on our deck when I came home from work.

Along with our ham supper, I baked these lovelies. Carrot muffins with dried cherries. Very yummy.

Tomorrow our high is forecast for 52. I am looking forward to seeing more dirt.

Seed slob

2011-04-03T20:50:00.000-05:00

A very long time ago (okay, maybe only a few months ago) some blogger friends of mine asked folks to describe how they organize and store seeds. They themselves showed wonderfully neat and detailed binders and notebooks, full of useful information and categorized seed packets. I looked at that and thought, there's no way I can show what I do! I'm completely unorganized! I'm a seed slob!

Well, I finally decided to just do it. So, here in the picture below is the bulk of my saved and purchased seeds. I have more that I keep in the freezer for long-term storage. I could probably add more to my freezer, as there's no way I'm gonna use these up in the next five years.

Each of the larger plastic tubs contain multiple packets of seeds, in various categories. All the bean varieties are in one tub, all the tomatoes in another, etc. It's a hodgepodge of containers, but they are all labeled and air-tight. I keep these boxes in a dark spot in my basement. I used to store them in a small dorm refrigerator, but my stockpile has since outgrown it.

This past winter I did a complete seed inventory on an Excel spreadsheet. It ended up being four pages long. Yes, I do have a lot of seeds, but a lot is not enough. I want more. I realize that I may be turning into a seed junkie. I'm okay with that.

Our local foods group is planning a seed swap this spring. I think I may be able to supply several folks with numerous years' worth of garden seeds. Let's hope I can leave the swap with fewer seeds than when I arrive.

Art!

2011-04-02T23:23:00.005-05:00

If you happen to find yourself driving through our sleepy little burg sometime this month, and suddenly realize that you're parched from the long drive (it must have been a long drive because our burg is out in the middle of nowhere), stop on by Java Jules for a well-earned latte. Not only will your taste buds be treated to a tasty treat, your eyes will get to feast on the wonderful display of beautiful artwork by local artists.

I am not at all biased toward the artwork, of course. Certainly not because my son is one of the artists featured in this month's show. Last Thursday we were invited to the open house for the new display, and Number Two Son got to stand up with several other kids from his class to receive a rousing round of applause from the gracious crowd. He was so shy! But I could tell he was pleased.

A watercolor artist went into his first grade class a few weeks ago and helped the students create their masterpieces, with a springtime theme. The local arts council helped frame them and hang them at the coffee shop. We have a really great local arts council. I used to be fairly active in the group, but a few years ago shifted my volunteer work toward our burgeoning local foods initiative. Ah, I wish I had more time to do more fun and worthwhile things!

Here he is with his finished art. I hope we get to keep the frames, but even if we don't I'll still be hanging the picture up in our house. This would look lovely in our hallway, a colorful reminder of spring all year-round.

Thanks Java Jules and Big Stone Arts Council!

Sad Face

2011-03-28T17:51:00.001-05:00

The last of the root cellar taters.

:(

An aside

2011-03-26T15:33:00.004-05:00

Awhile ago a fellow blogger, the lovely Tammy from T. Cupp Miniatures and Family Farm, asked me to write something about our farming exploits. Here is the result, posted on her site. I highly recommend Tammy's blogs, and not because of my essay--she has wonderful recipes and her cows are beautiful. Ah, beautiful beautiful cows. Someday ...

AWOL

2011-03-26T00:29:00.000-05:00

Oh my, it's been awhile. A long while. I don't have any good excuse either, other than I think the winter drabs and drolls have hit me. Much like everyone else in my corner of the world, I'm sure. This has been one of the top five snowiest winters on record for Minnesota, and I'm getting a bit tired of the white stuff.

I was doing okay up until early March when the plague descended upon our household. And it hasn't let up yet. Over the last three weeks we've had just one day where all of our kids went to school together. It seems to cycle through our kids on a continual loop. Different symptoms, but the same overall funkitude. Benjimouse is the most recent victim, and is just getting over his most recent bout of ick.

Last week we had temps in the upper 30s and low 40s, bringing about a massive melt. There is a real fear of major flooding for our area, mainly south along the Minnesota River and North along the Red River. Fortunately our house is on high prairie ground, so the only issues we will deal with is a damp basement and a small, yet deceptively deep lake in our yard. Unfortunately this lake lies between the house and the barn/coop, making animal chores a cold squishy delight.

The animals are handling the weather well. The barn is dry and sturdy, and we've still got plenty of feed. They goats are looking pretty scraggly, though.

I often wonder if I should invest in some of those 'goat coats' to try to keep their mohair a bit nicer over the winter. Or I could try to make my own, now that my sewing machine skills are much improved.

So improved, actually, that I sewed my first zipper a few weeks ago, on Graham's winter coat. It's not pretty, but it works. Yeah me! Way to go me!

It's also tree-tapping time. I tapped trees last week, and the flow has been slow so far. We had a winter storm Wednesday which knocked my buckets and hoses around, losing several days' worth of sap. My syruping efforts this year are only half-hearted, anyway.

On a brighter note, we have had a great number of visitors and house guests over the past month, not the least of whom were my cousins from London, Ontario.

The kids had a marvelous time playing together, and I had a marvelous time reconnecting with my Canadian cousins. It is such a shame we live so far apart, they are so dear to me.

You'll notice that Number One Son is missing from this picture. He was the sickie du jour at that point, zonked out on the couch with the flu.

Hubby is now the official bread-baker, and we are semi-sworn off store-bought loaves for the foreseeable future. At $3.29 a loaf, making your own really is a no-brainer. Especially when you look at the ingredient list on some of those store packages.

Last but certainly not least, I have finally started some seeds. Broccoli, Brussels Sprouts, cabbage, eggplant, lettuce, spinach and chard. Next week I'll start another round of veges, peppers and tomatoes and flowers and such. Although it might not look like it or feel like it, I know that spring coming and I need to get my rear in gear. Lots of things to prepare for, like seedlings, tilling, chicks, fencing, etc.

Even if I am not quite prepared for spring, I am most definitely ready for it.

Cheapskate plant markers

2011-02-11T22:47:00.002-06:00

Every spring I start several flats of vege and flower seeds. Tomatoes, peppers, broccoli, cabbage, sprouts, etc. Each of the seedlings needs to be labeled with a plant marker, in order to tell which is which come planting time. Most people use wooden Popsicle stick-like things, sold in gardening catalogs, to identify their plants. A couple of years ago I decided I didn't want to spend five bucks for a dozen Popsicle sticks, and devised a cheapskate alternative. Interested? Want to learn more? Thought not. Too bad! Here goes!

Take a plastic gallon milk jug. Empty, of course.

Cut off the curved base.

Cut off the curved top and the two sides adjacent to the handle You just want the two flat, smooth sides.

If you want 3" markers, cut the flat sides in half. If you want 6" markers, leave them at their full height. I cut mine in half, width-wise.

Now cut the bands into 1" wide strips. You can cut them into triangles or rectangles depending on your preference.

A Sharpie works well for writing on the plastic. One gallon jug will make about thirty 3" markers.

See, that wasn't so hard! Easy peasey, lemon squeezey!

Scratching the itch

2011-02-09T14:35:00.000-06:00

Germination testing. So far, so good.

Chokecherry jelly

2011-02-03T13:24:00.000-06:00

This batch turned out remarkably well. Sweet, but with plenty of chokecherry flavor. I picked the berries last summer and froze them, figuring that I would have more time during the winter for jam-making. I did that with a lot of fruit, actually. I've still got several gallons of gooseberries, blueberries, strawberries and mulberries to turn into something tasty. And I'm running out of time -- we're getting another quarter beef in a few weeks and freezer space is at a premium.

Secret stash

2011-02-01T16:54:00.000-06:00

I found a secret stash of basil flower stalks. I had put them in a paper bag at the end of the summer, and then set the bag aside to dry. The bag was moved somewhere else and I lost track of it until yesterday.

To harvest the seed, I crumble the dry seed pods in my fingers and let it all fall into a bowl. I'm still working on this part--I've got a lot of basil. Next I will try to winnow the seeds from the chaff, perhaps by using a fan. The seeds are pretty light, so I'm not sure if that will work. If it doesn't, I will save the seeds and chaff together and just pick out the seeds as I need them.

I've also started my mid-winter germination testing. Just playing with all these seeds has got my hands itching for dirt.

Dear Winter,

2011-02-01T16:33:00.003-06:00

We have enough snow.

Sincerely,

Benjamin, orange kitten and the hubby

A bit of springtime

2011-01-28T09:53:00.001-06:00

Now it's the sage's turn to shine!

Chicken: the other red meat

2011-01-28T09:40:00.000-06:00

Last night's dinner--baked chicken from one of the birds we raised last year on the farmstead. Yowza!

The inside s-coop

2011-01-22T15:24:00.001-06:00

For the last month or so, ever since we got hit by multiple feet of snowfall and daytime temps in the single digits, I've kept the chickens locked up inside their coop. Our coop is 12'x18' and I only have 25 chickens, so they are far from overcrowded. Two south-facing windows and a suspended lamp provide extra warmth, and a heated base keeps the water fount from freezing. Yesterday when the outside temps were below zero F, inside the coop it was a balmy 22.

We are getting about eight eggs a day now, and if we don't collect them each afternoon some of them invariable freeze and crack. Sometimes the chickens build a nest on the wood-shaving floor and I find an egg or two there. As long as no one starts pecking at shells, I'm fine with that.

I've chosen my breeds for variety--lots of different colors of both birds and eggs. I tend to stick with the utility strains, but last spring I did order a few leghorns, for the white eggs. My only bantams are the silkies, which I hope to use as brooders this season.

At this time last year, I discovered my chickens had mites. Knock on wood, no mites yet this winter. Also, this is usually the point in the season when bare backs start showing up on a few of the hens. Again, knock on wood, no bare backs yet. Although, my least dominant roo is missing most of his tail feathers. But what can you expect from rowdy roosters?

My chicks get free-fed grit and oyster shell, and a 19% layer mash. They are given fresh water every other day and occasional table scraps. For most of the year they roam free in a 50' x 30' fenced enclosure adjacent to their coop. The fence is to keep predators (mostly dogs) out, not my chickens in.

Last spring we planted two pear trees in the chickens' enclosure. Maybe someday we will order partridge chicks from the hatchery, and fashion our own Christmas cards. Yet another entry on the long list of farmstead possibilities.

Golden Globe Award

2011-01-22T14:55:00.002-06:00

I much prefer the Minnesota to the Hollywood variety.

Subsidy Sauce

2011-01-13T16:54:00.005-06:00

Over the holidays my family and I stayed with my parents in the Cities. One evening we had Kentucky Fried Chicken for dinner. At the bottom of the bag of biscuits and coleslaw were half-a-dozen packets of honey. At least, I assumed they were packets of honey. I grabbed one and prepared to tear it open, when the label caught my eye.

Honey sauce. Honey sauce? WTF? (That's 'What The Fudge' to those who do not know me. I only swear when I stub my toe--then I let loose like a Portuguese sailor. Only I don't actually swear in Portuguese. Although it probably would be less offensive if I did. To non-Portuguese listeners, at least.)

Anyway.

Honey sauce? Huh? My eye read through the ingredients: high fructose corn syrup, corn syrup, sugar, honey, fructose, contains less than 2% of: caramel color, molasses, water, citric acid, natural and artificial flavor, malic acid.

I was dumbstruck. I probably shouldn't have been, but I was. I have long known that HFCS has infiltrated food to an alarming degree, from pancake syrups to breakfast cereal to baked goods to canned fruit. Why should I be so surprised about it showing up in a packet of fast-food sweetener?

What hit me hardest was the fact that since KFC decided to substitute HFCS (and CS) for honey, HFCS and CS must be cheaper to buy than honey is. My brain tried to wrap itself around this deduction. High fructose corn syrup is cheaper to buy, and hence produce, than honey. Again, I shouldn't have been surprised. Maybe discouraged is a better term. Depressed and discouraged.

Consider the steps, and thus the human effort (and other energy inputs) required to make HFCS: buy/lease crop land, plow it up, add chemical fertilizers to the soil, purchase corn seed, plant seed, spray chemical herbicides on the weeds that sprout up, mechanically irrigate during dry spells, spray chemical insecticides on the bugs that show up, repeat the last three steps as necessary during the summer, combine the corn, truck it to the elevator, transport it to the processing facility, break the corn down using mechanical force and chemical solvents, extract the sweetener out of the corn slush, transport the sweetener to a packaging facility while disposing of the corn mash (likely to the local cattle feed lot or hog barn). Back at the field the farmer still needs to fall till his field. Add to all of this effort the material costs associated with it -- seed, fertilizer, herbicides, insecticides, tractors, tillers, planters, sprayers, combines, semi-trailers, elevators, processing machinery, chemicals, etc.

Now consider the steps required to make honey: buy/lease pasture land, install hives, check on them a few times during the summer, give them some sugar water or medicine if necessary, extract the honey, transport it to a packaging facility. If you have hives in the north you may have to do some weatherization to protect the hives during the cold months, but not in the south. Input costs -- bees, hives, protective clothing, smokers, medicine, honey extraction equipment, trucks to haul it to a packaging facility.

Another thing to think about is the although the corn syrup requires a lot more effort to make, much of this effort is mechanized. Admittedly, bee-keeping is more physically demanding work. Which I suppose makes it less attractive to farmers. But there's gotta be a more than a few high school students out there, particularly in rural areas, looking for a summer job. How can paying a few people to help tend your hives outweigh the fuel, machinery, and chemical costs of growing and processing corn?

I suspect that it doesn't. I suspect the truth is that making honey DOES cost less (considering all the inputs and indirect costs) than making high fructose corn syrup. And it doesn't pump chemicals into the soil, and it doesn't wipe out insect life with herbicides, and it doesn't add excess nitrogen and phosphorous into our watersheds, and it doesn't erode topsoil from repeated tilling.

So why are we eating Honey Sauce instead of Honey?

Ask a farmer about subsidies, and she'll tell you they can't farm without them. They are telling the truth. The cost of growing corn these days is so huge (with all those costs I detailed above), that without the subsidies the farmers would go out of business.

Here is an analogy. Let's say I have a pair of boots. I like the boots, they fit well and I wear them a lot. Over time, however, my feet change and the boots (exposed to rain and sun) wear and shrink, and they no longer fit. In fact, my feet start to hurt from wearing them. Now, I have two choices: I could keep wearing these boots, which are extremely uncomfortable, or I could get another pair. If I keep these boots, I'm going to feel a lot of pain. So much pain in fact, that if I wear them I will need to take a pain-killer. Ibuprofin should do. Ibuprofin is cheaper than good boots, and I don't want to have to go to the store to pick out a new pair, so I choose to keep using my old boots.

Over time, my feet change even more, and the boots get holes in them. I could still get a new pair of boots, or I could just take more painkillers. More, and stronger painkillers. It isn't long before I'm taking several Vicodin a day. So, I'm not feeling the pain, but my feet are a wreck. This goes on, and on, and on. I'm paying lots more for my prescriptions now than I would on new boots, but by now I'm too old (and too proud) to switch. And frankly, I don't care anymore because I'm addicted to morphine.

So you see, subsidies are the morphine of agriculture. If the painkillers weren't there in the first place, maybe I would have bought the new boots, maybe farmers would change they way they do things. Maybe we'd have more sustainable (ecologically and financially) farming practices. Maybe we'd have healthier farm communities and economies.

And maybe we'd get packets of real honey with our biscuits.

Carrot confusion

2011-01-09T22:58:00.000-06:00

I just realized that the carrots I planted in my garden last summer, which I thought were Chantenay, were actually Jaune du Doubs. Oops. While doing my seed inventory, I saw the open packet and realized my mistake. This makes a lot more sense, since Jaune du Doubs are long, yellow carrots, which is exactly what I harvested. Many apologies to my local nursery, whom I accused of mixing varieties in their bulk sacks.

Nothing much

2011-01-08T23:03:00.001-06:00

is going on around here right now, so I feel a little sheepish trying to squeeze a post out of total mundanity. We had lovely Christmas and New Year's celebrations with family and friends. Amazingly enough, we have gone through an entire month without anyone getting sick. I think that's a record for us in wintertime. The chickens are all good, the goats are all good, and the snowblower is still working which is a miracle in itself. We are certainly putting it to the test this year.

I've just finished doing a complete seed inventory of my ever-growing stockpile. It is six pages long. I think I should have done the inventory BEFORE I mailed my orders to Johnny's and Fedco. Oh well. I have also discovered the online garden planning software at RH Shumway's website, and have been having lots of fun playing around with next summer's garden layout. Check it out, it's free for a 30-day trial.

My very old Olympus 5.0 megapixel camera has finally decided to call it quits, so it may be awhile before you see any more photos here. I must research a new, relatively inexpensive replacement. Any suggestions are welcome.

Other than my work, two little boy birthdays and a few days of volunteering at the local co-op, there is nothing on my calendar for the rest of this month. Which is just as well, as I am feeling a bit bear-like. Growling, sleeping late and searching the pantry for nuts and berries. Don't bother phoning or dropping by, I'm not sure I'm fit for decent company. Call me in mid-March, I should be done hibernating by then.

Last day

2010-12-31T20:32:00.000-06:00

This is it, the end of the year, the very last day of 2010. We are snowbound in our house, for the third blizzard this month. Temps are hovering around zero, with wind-chills in the minus 20's. Hubby's family was supposed to come out to celebrate New Year's with us, but the blizzard has kept them away (so far). Several highways and interstates have closed. I've heard reports of 8' snow drifts on the highway near Clinton. Hubby's brother Nate tried to make it out Thursday but couldn't get past Morris. He is holed up at a hotel for the foreseeable future.

In lieu of any other type of merry-making, we built a fort with chairs and sheets, and are letting the kids sleep in the living room. We told them they could stay up and watch tv til midnight. I doubt the two littlest will make it that long. Benjimouse just doesn't have the stamina, and Graham woke up waaaay early this morning. I expect them both to crash this side of 11 pm.

So, a very Happy New Year to you all. 2010 was pretty good as far as years go; let's see if we can make 2011 even better.

Snow day

2010-12-21T00:11:00.006-06:00

Last night I looked at the weather forecast, saw the phrases "Winter Storm Warning", "4 to 8 inches of snow" and "15 to 20 mph winds" and decided to formally declare a snow day. When you live in the country, you have the power to declare your own snow days, whether or not the school agrees with you. The roads by our house are fairly low on the plowing priority list, and I really didn't want to brave the drifts and winds in my measly minivan. (I drive them to school Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays). The district eventually came around to the same decision and closed the schools at 12:30 pm. At home, by that time, we were already knee-deep in a Christmas party.

Benjimouse's preschool class was scheduled to have their Christmas party today, and I felt mildly guilty keeping him away. So I decided that we would have our own Christmas party. The kids played a few contentious (when is it not?) games of musical chairs while I prepped, and then we got down to business.

We made gingerbread cookies. Each kid cut out their shapes and placed them on their tray. When the first batch came out of the oven, the air filled with the warm spicy scent of cinnamon, cloves and ginger.

I whipped up some colored icing and pulled out the sprinkles and candy decorations. I did manage to snag a few cookies before they were coated with sugar shellac. I prefer my gingerbread men au natural.

We decided not to buy a tree this year. Instead, we made our own. A few dozen sheets of construction paper, scissors, cookie cutters to trace, markers, a glue stick and some glitter and voilà -- one homemade Christmas tree!

It is hung in our dining room (please ignore the peeling wallpaper in the corner), and tomorrow I'll dig out our tree skirt from the basement and lay it on the floor, underneath the tree. The only things that are missing are the garland and lights, but those are currently strung around the living room, along with the stockings and our Christmas bells.

We'll have a leisurely morning tomorrow -- school begins two hours late, so we can have a slow breakfast together before the bus picks up the two eldest monkeys. On Wednesday we head for the Cities for holiday festivities, Part One. Part Two will be held over New Year's, at our house with hubby's family.

That reminds me, I must pick up some penicillin ...

Early Christmas gift

2010-12-20T23:35:00.003-06:00

I bought this rosemary plant two-and-a-half years ago, and this is the first time I've seen it flower. In the winter, no less! With the scant light that it gets from a small western window, I am amazed it has summoned the energy to burst into bloom. So far it has three light blue/purple blossoms, but a bud count reveals at least four more are on the way. I am just so tickled.

Tonight's dessert

2010-12-13T23:55:00.001-06:00

Rosettes! Yum! Rosettes are the lone Scandinavian holiday recipe I ever make. Never done lefse, lutefisk, swedish meatballs, etc. Out here in western Minnesota, that's almost considered a crime. But though I am tall and blond, the only Scandinavian blood in me is Danish, and it's only one-eighth of me besides. Give me a good English roast beef, a hearty German wurst, or a lovely Dutch pastry and you're talking my food language.

After making twenty or so rosettes, I got sick of standing by the stove and just drizzled the remaining batter in the oil, funnel-cake style. Double Yum!

His name is Boxy

2010-12-13T23:35:00.003-06:00

Graham has a new pet. It is a boxelder bug. He caught it a few days ago and asked for a jar to keep it in. Sure, why not? Hubby looked on the internet for what boxelder bugs eat, surprise--boxelder trees. Duh. I keep forgetting to grab some boxelder seeds when I go to work. Right now he has a moist cotton ball, and from what we read that is all he really needs. Or she. Boxette?

So much

2010-12-11T16:26:00.000-06:00

for the blizzard warning. We got maybe three inches overnight. The weathermen were right about the high winds and sub-zero temps, however. The skies are grey with fog and swirling snow, and I'm sure the three inches of snowfall has drifted high on the county roads. The scattered homestead groves act like terrific windbreaks, and a car can travel from bare gravel to foot-deep drifts without warning. Good thing we don't have to be anywhere.

I am taking the opportunity of a home-bound weekend to catch up with my Christmas gift making. I'd post pictures of what I'm doing, but my family reads this blog and I don't want them to know what they're getting. Suffice it to say, I've never made these things before, and it is slow going.

A pot of eggs is boiling on the stove for egg salad sandwiches. The turkey I had planned to cook for supper today isn't fully thawed, so we will have to improvise. A bag of blueberries is on the counter, waiting for me to do something wonderful with it. Wonderful, but easy. I'm thinking a nice fruit crisp. With ice cream. That sounds like a pretty good supper.

Tuesday afternoon

2010-12-10T23:55:00.004-06:00

After leaving Wadena, I drove to Fergus Falls and killed a bit of time shopping at Fleet Farm. Gotta love Fleet Farm, it's like Macy's for farmers. When noon rolled around I figured it was time to head back to Ashby to pick up my ex-roosters.

The landscape around Wadena and Fergus is a lot different than around my hometown. More trees, more hills, and more swamps and bogs. Which is very nice, if you like that sort of thing. Me, give me a rolling prairie any day and I'm happy.

The snowmobilers had already taken advantage of the recent snowfall.

At 12:30 pm I parked in front of TFC Poultry, and walked inside.

They had lots of different meats for sale. I was tempted to buy a frozen goose. I've never tasted goose before. The idea of having roast goose for a holiday meal appeals to me. It seems very Victorian.

I walked up to the lady at the counter, and told her who I was. She smiled and told me to wait there, she'll go find out where my chickens are. A few minutes later she came back, a look of confusion on her face. She can't seem to find my chickens. I joked, 'did they fly away?' She gave a light laugh, and I realized she's probably heard that one about five hundred times before. She turned and saw someone coming out of the processing area, in the back of the building. She asked her where my chickens are. The processing lady said that they are first on the list to be processed, AFTER LUNCH. They should be ready for pick-up, say, around 3:30.

What the #*$%? My blood boiled. My temper flared. I tell the woman I was told they would be done by 1 pm. When I made the appointment, I was told to have them here by 6:30 am, so they could be processed first thing. The boss himself told me that morning, that he would call me if it would be later than 1 pm. And here I am, looking at another THREE HOUR wait til I get my chickens. The counter lady looked at me apologetically. She recommended a local cafe for lunch.

I am a quiet person by nature, really I am. But for whatever reason, right then and there in that store, I wanted to scream. I wanted to throw things. I wanted to rip all the hamburger patties, sausage links and chicken giblets out of the display cases and kick them across the floor. But there was no use, my chickens would not be done any faster if I destroyed the place.

I walked outside, got into my car and called my husband. I told him I wouldn't be home til 5 pm, at the earliest. Fighting back tears, I knew I was tired and emotionally erratic. Four hours of sleep will do that to a person. After a few deep breaths, I started the car. I drove to Alexandria, had lunch and killed more time walking around stores.

At 3:30 pm sharp, I again walked through the door at the poultry processors. The chickens were waiting for me, and the lady seemed overly helpful, carrying out the box and helping me load them into my cooler.

An hour-and-a-half after leaving finally leaving Ashby, twelve hours after leaving the house that morning, I pull into my driveway. The sun has gone down, and the sky is a dusky dark blue. I stomp wearily up the stairs of the deck, open the door, walk into the kitchen, and slump into a chair. Hubby puts the kettle on for tea, and the kids all come running to give Mom hugs.

Infamy or no, it was a long day.

The murals of Wadena county

2010-12-10T23:08:00.000-06:00

There are murals EVERYWHERE in Wadena.

Even in the back alleyways. Like I said, everywhere.

Tuesday morning

2010-12-10T22:58:00.003-06:00

Tuesday was the day that will live in infamy. For my chickens, at least. It was the day of destiny for ten of my roosters. Months before I had made an appointment with the butcher up in Ashby (a 90-minute drive away), the closest abattoir (I just love that word) that handles small-batch poultry processing. When I made the appointment, the lady stressed that I needed to have them there by 6:30. That meant leaving my house at 5 am. Which meant getting up no later than 4:30. Shower and breakfast be damned.

The night before, hubby helped me catch the unawares roosters and load them into a large dog kennel in my car. The next morning at 5 am sharp I drove out of the driveway for the journey north.

At 6:30 am sharp I pulled up in the alley behind the processor. It was still pitch black, and two other truck-loads of chicken were unloading ahead of me. I always feel so sorry for the broilers that are brought to butcher, their mutant huge chests bulging outward, their raw pink skin showing through the bare patches of white feathers. Dried blood and crusted dirt are caked on the feathers that remain. My chickens are aristocracy in comparison: sleek, full-feathered and clean.

The chickens were unloaded, and I asked when I could pick them up. The guy said probably around noon, but go upstairs and talk to the boss. I'm having a fresh service, which means I will pick them up today, chilled but not frozen. Most folks drop them off and pick them up a few days later, but I didn't want to make the return trip. So I went upstairs and talked to 'the boss,' who thought they will be done before noon and 1 pm, but I should leave my cell phone number in case it's earlier or later than that. I gave him the number, and went on my way. I left Ashby behind me and headed for Wadena, MN, a further 90 minute drive northeast.

I drove into Wadena just as the sun was peeking over the horizon.

Wadena has a lovely downtown, lots of old brick buildings.

I stop at a cafe for a bit of breakfast. The dining room is full, and I take a small table near the door. It's so interesting to see how the older women and men divide themselves: grey-haired women at one table and grey-haired men at another. I sit near the men's table and listen to them yammer. I am familiar with their talk, it is pretty much the same as the talk at my hometown cafe. Lots of jokes, lots of BS, lots of gossip. And lots of ignorant indignation, mainly against the government. Which makes me, as a government employee, want to smack them upside the head. Add to that lots of careless cursing, which makes me want to smack them upside the head even more. I restrain myself and finish my eggs and hashbrowns.

At 9 am I arrived at my real destination, Buckwheat Growers of Minnesota. This small coop is where I like to get my chicken feed. They have a variety of locally grown feeds for all sorts of critters. They also have organic and transitional feed. Given the price of organic, I opted this time for transitional ($12.50 for a 50-lb bag).

I got twenty bags of 19% chicken mash loaded into the back of my minivan, and headed on my way.

Houston,

2010-12-10T22:08:00.000-06:00

we have eggs!