The rain is raining all around,
It falls on field and tree,
It rains on the umbrellas here
And on the ships at sea.
RL Stevenson 1885
We waited days for the rain to come. It was so weirdly warm yesterday. Heavy. It was a relief when the drops began to fall this afternoon, even if the laundry was not completely dry.
Yesterday we moved the chicks out to a little room in the barn. They have their heat lamp, food and water. Chicks can only live in the living room so many days. They stink. They peep. They poop a lot. We only had 50 this go around and it was easier to just set up the brooder in the house so I didn't have to go check on them so often. Laziness, I guess. Plus it is kind of fun to watch little fluff balls for a day or two.
They are happy in the barn. I am happier too. So is Maggie since she is in charge of living room maintenance this week.
The turkeys got out and ate every last bit of the broccoli, cabbage and brussels sprouts. They also trimmed off the tops of all the onions and turnips. For some reason they didn't like the lolla rossa lettuce or the tom thumb butterhead.
So glad we could grow them such lovely organic food!
Patrick was very frustrated and sad because he was the one who planted those things for our fall garden. The vegetables were big and lovely and now they are gone.
We seem to have a problem with fall garden maintenance. One year the cattle ate the broccoli and other brassicas. The next two years it was the goats. This year we were so proud for keeping the four-legged creatures out of the garden. We were so excited to have wonderful veggies for the fall.
Thank goodness we are not like the folks who lived during the Little House on the Prairie days. We will not go hungry. We have lots of other foods stored up.
But I am sad for Patrick. That type of loss is a sad one. I am afraid it is the kind of loss that often happens in life and as he gets a chance to deal with his frustration and get over it, I am thankful for the training he is getting for adulthood. Things occasionally go wrong, people make mistakes, and sometimes they cost more than we wish. So we growl, put the silly birds back in their place, (or goats, or cattle or whatever else happens to destroy our hard work) and come up with a plan for next time. And give thanks for those other people who were able to successfully grow broccoli so we don't have to go without!
At least we have salad!
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Monday, November 9, 2009
Rise and Shine
I love waking up to morning farm sounds.
Turkey gobble.
Rooster crow.
Duck quack.
Goose honk.
Guinea squawk.
Bird cries, which are quickly silenced by the shrill whistle of kettle and the bzzzzz of the coffee grinder as Philip makes our french press full of thick, dark fragrant ritual.
Turkey gobble.
Rooster crow.
Duck quack.
Goose honk.
Guinea squawk.
Bird cries, which are quickly silenced by the shrill whistle of kettle and the bzzzzz of the coffee grinder as Philip makes our french press full of thick, dark fragrant ritual.
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Brownie and Blackie's Haiku , or "Let's Hear it for Farm Security!"
Defensive dogs howl
Their cries echo through the valley:
"Stay 'way from our farm!"
Their cries echo through the valley:
"Stay 'way from our farm!"
Friday, November 6, 2009
More New Friends
I know this is a crazy time to be getting baby chicks. We typically order our last batch of meat chicks end of September to butcher early December. This last of September I didn't have it in me to do one more thing. So I procrastinated. I thought maybe we could get away without raising anymore, hoped we could ration our frozen chicken. Once I did the math and considered the truly cold period of February and early March I decided we better raise a few more to put on the table. Our family likes to eat at least one chicken a week. I would hate to have to go two or three months without chicken, so here we are again.
The chicks were hatched out on Tuesday and arrived yesterday at 10pm. Philip went to the main Roanoke post office to pick them up. We set the "brooder" trough next to the fireplace, gave them food and water and now we watch them grow.
Our plan is to cover a large cage by the milking parlor with heavy duty plastic. We intend to convert the large space into a sort of a green house. If we seed the ground with rye and other cold weather grass seed it should be up and green by the time the chicks are ready to go out. Of course we realize that this is an untested plan and time will tell if it works or not. Will keep you posted. In the meantime, we are feeding the little fellows a mixture of non-GMO grains blended together with some bits of fresh trout trimmings and a little goat milk. We are trying to boost the protein content in their food with fresh ingredients we have on hand. Most high protein poultry food has dried fish meal. We thought it would be interesting to see if there is any difference in the chickens raised on the fresh fish. Hopefully the wind will die down tomorrow and the guys can get the greenhouse finished.
I only baked 6 loaves of bread today. Just enough to barter for some of Jimbo's fresh trout fillets. We had some for supper tonight, fried up in a pan with a little butter. We had some pan-fried potatoes on the side. Yum. Patrick informed me that next year we must plant at least as many potatoes as we did this year, or even more. He has become the master hashbrown maker with all those potatoes. Good thing we get a lot of exercise, eating all those potatoes! I could have gone to the garden to pick enough lettuce to make a salad, but decided to do that tomorrow. We have eaten so many greens this week, thanks to different gifts from different friends of chard, bok choy, collards cabbage and kale. I love them all. Quite pleased that Patrick and Maggie and Rose planted lettuce this fall. We should be enjoying if for a bit.
Kids and parents are tired here on the farm. I think we will all go to our separate corners and read. Philip and Rose just came in from hunting coyotes. Hopefully they scared off the wiley critters and we will get some peace this evening.
By the way, now that I am no longer milking at night I am missing out on night sky, the moon phases, the stars and the breezy night sounds. It is hard to make myself go outside if I don't have to.
The chicks were hatched out on Tuesday and arrived yesterday at 10pm. Philip went to the main Roanoke post office to pick them up. We set the "brooder" trough next to the fireplace, gave them food and water and now we watch them grow.
Our plan is to cover a large cage by the milking parlor with heavy duty plastic. We intend to convert the large space into a sort of a green house. If we seed the ground with rye and other cold weather grass seed it should be up and green by the time the chicks are ready to go out. Of course we realize that this is an untested plan and time will tell if it works or not. Will keep you posted. In the meantime, we are feeding the little fellows a mixture of non-GMO grains blended together with some bits of fresh trout trimmings and a little goat milk. We are trying to boost the protein content in their food with fresh ingredients we have on hand. Most high protein poultry food has dried fish meal. We thought it would be interesting to see if there is any difference in the chickens raised on the fresh fish. Hopefully the wind will die down tomorrow and the guys can get the greenhouse finished.
I only baked 6 loaves of bread today. Just enough to barter for some of Jimbo's fresh trout fillets. We had some for supper tonight, fried up in a pan with a little butter. We had some pan-fried potatoes on the side. Yum. Patrick informed me that next year we must plant at least as many potatoes as we did this year, or even more. He has become the master hashbrown maker with all those potatoes. Good thing we get a lot of exercise, eating all those potatoes! I could have gone to the garden to pick enough lettuce to make a salad, but decided to do that tomorrow. We have eaten so many greens this week, thanks to different gifts from different friends of chard, bok choy, collards cabbage and kale. I love them all. Quite pleased that Patrick and Maggie and Rose planted lettuce this fall. We should be enjoying if for a bit.
Kids and parents are tired here on the farm. I think we will all go to our separate corners and read. Philip and Rose just came in from hunting coyotes. Hopefully they scared off the wiley critters and we will get some peace this evening.
By the way, now that I am no longer milking at night I am missing out on night sky, the moon phases, the stars and the breezy night sounds. It is hard to make myself go outside if I don't have to.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Welcome to November
Monday morning we headed over to our fellow farming friends' place to help wrangle calves. They needed some manpower to get the critters separated and loaded and we needed to buy a couple of calves. Yesterday evening I felt some sore muscles and wondered what in the world I had done to get them. The girls reminded me that day before we used those muscles to get calves away from mamas and to shove those calves onto a trailer. It was a beautiful day, sunny and brisk, and the hard teamwork felt great. I know it may sound weird, but I really love doing that kind of work. The real bonus was the lunch our friend served, roast beef sandwiches on rye, cheese, her homegrown tomatoes, and some of the most amazing homemade jalapeno apricot jam I have ever tasted. I ate some of it spread on jack cheese, some of it on her homemade pumpkin bread with cream cheese, some of it straight off the spoon. Wow. I am quite thankful for this friends' apricot tree, jalapenos and her amazing talent to put them together.
After another cup of coffee, more bread and cheese, we loaded up a very handsome bull calf for me and another even more adorable bull calf for Maggie. I named my fellow Ribeye, for obvious reasons. Maggie's calf is named Panda, because his little black and white Hereford and Dexter cross face looks just like a panda.
As we headed home the girls noticed that the autumn olives looked ripe. We drive past a big stand of them on the way home. I hesitated. The last thing on my agenda that day was picking autumn olives. But I stopped anyway, we grabbed bags and boxes, whatever we had stashed in the Suburban, parked in the shade and went to pick.
Autumn olives are a large shrub or smallish tree otherwise known as Eleagnus Umbellata. The leaves are silvery and shaped like olive leaves. The berry is red, dusted with silver speckles. They are tart, tart, tart until just ripe, then the flavor is a bit more sweet. The tree is native to Asia. Apparently it was introduced to the US in thee 1800s, used to prevent soil erosion alongside roads. Well, like many plants transplanted back in those days, it is very invasive. I can't recommend anyone buying and planting this tree, but just like wineberries, another Asian import, I highly recommend wild foraging!
Studies have found that the autumn olive berry has 17 times more lycopene than the average raw tomato! The juice is a powerful antioxident, full of vitamins A, C, E, fatty acids and flavenoids. Cool.
The kids just think the sweet-tart fruit is fun to pop in their mouth, and anything picked by our hands, in the wild, on a bright sunny fall day just has to be good for us! We picked and picked, around a gallon and a half or two gallons of the fruit. I have rinsed them and guess I will make jam or fruit leather. Am thinking that the flavor would make an amazing sauce for venison or pork roast. Hmmm. Maybe I should boil down the juice, add some juniper berries, rosemary and black pepper to make a reduction for the venison tenderloin I hope someone hunts for us.
So we got home with calves and berries, unloaded them both, along with the amazing veggie gifts from our farmer friend. Maggie and I cleaned the barn and visited with the new fellas. They miss their mamas. But not so much that they didn't immediately get down to the serious business of munching on hay.
Later I fried up round steak, Nora mixed up cornbread, we made sweet potato oven fries, and we sauteed the swiss chard gift with lard and cracklins. Philip and Thomas moved the four little piggies into a new section of garden. Patrick moved the turkeys onto fresh grass. We enjoyed a family supper together and didn't feel a bit sore. Until yesterday.
Welcome to your new home, Ribeye and Panda. We hope you quickly bond to the herd and enjoy your life, munching on good hay and grass, wandering through nice fields. We sure are thankful to have been able to get you from a nice farm instead of a factory operation. You will have a very good life.
After another cup of coffee, more bread and cheese, we loaded up a very handsome bull calf for me and another even more adorable bull calf for Maggie. I named my fellow Ribeye, for obvious reasons. Maggie's calf is named Panda, because his little black and white Hereford and Dexter cross face looks just like a panda.
As we headed home the girls noticed that the autumn olives looked ripe. We drive past a big stand of them on the way home. I hesitated. The last thing on my agenda that day was picking autumn olives. But I stopped anyway, we grabbed bags and boxes, whatever we had stashed in the Suburban, parked in the shade and went to pick.
Autumn olives are a large shrub or smallish tree otherwise known as Eleagnus Umbellata. The leaves are silvery and shaped like olive leaves. The berry is red, dusted with silver speckles. They are tart, tart, tart until just ripe, then the flavor is a bit more sweet. The tree is native to Asia. Apparently it was introduced to the US in thee 1800s, used to prevent soil erosion alongside roads. Well, like many plants transplanted back in those days, it is very invasive. I can't recommend anyone buying and planting this tree, but just like wineberries, another Asian import, I highly recommend wild foraging!
Studies have found that the autumn olive berry has 17 times more lycopene than the average raw tomato! The juice is a powerful antioxident, full of vitamins A, C, E, fatty acids and flavenoids. Cool.
The kids just think the sweet-tart fruit is fun to pop in their mouth, and anything picked by our hands, in the wild, on a bright sunny fall day just has to be good for us! We picked and picked, around a gallon and a half or two gallons of the fruit. I have rinsed them and guess I will make jam or fruit leather. Am thinking that the flavor would make an amazing sauce for venison or pork roast. Hmmm. Maybe I should boil down the juice, add some juniper berries, rosemary and black pepper to make a reduction for the venison tenderloin I hope someone hunts for us.
So we got home with calves and berries, unloaded them both, along with the amazing veggie gifts from our farmer friend. Maggie and I cleaned the barn and visited with the new fellas. They miss their mamas. But not so much that they didn't immediately get down to the serious business of munching on hay.
Later I fried up round steak, Nora mixed up cornbread, we made sweet potato oven fries, and we sauteed the swiss chard gift with lard and cracklins. Philip and Thomas moved the four little piggies into a new section of garden. Patrick moved the turkeys onto fresh grass. We enjoyed a family supper together and didn't feel a bit sore. Until yesterday.
Welcome to your new home, Ribeye and Panda. We hope you quickly bond to the herd and enjoy your life, munching on good hay and grass, wandering through nice fields. We sure are thankful to have been able to get you from a nice farm instead of a factory operation. You will have a very good life.
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Nearing the End
Halloween.
End of October.
Today was end of official farmer's market season at Grandin Village and Ikenberry's Orchard. The season has been long and tiring. I haven't had a weekend off from baking since very early April. The last two weeks have felt a bit like torture. The grueling final 100 yards of the marathon, aching, sweating, pain coursing through the body.
Well, I have never actually run a marathon so I have no idea what one feels nearing the end. But in the case of market season, it has been painful. Too many hours on my feet. Too many hours awake in a row. But with an end in sight.
After a week off we will return to the site of the market and make bread drop offs. We will deliver bread to people who order ahead of time. I am absolutely humbled and astonished at the loyal support of our customers. Today I felt loved and appreciated by our customers. They love our breads and other farm goods and are grateful for my labor and efforts. They want to see our farm succeed. They are kind and make me feel loved.
Sometimes at the end of a 20 hour work day I wonder why I do this job. I feel a bit jealous of those other gals and guys who get to put on nice clothes, have adult conversations and do important work. Work in a clean office. Work that makes a salary and garnishes respect. I occasionally feel a bit envious of those folks watching TV, hanging out at the restaurants, or listening to the musicians. But if I wait long enough I remember the reason I chose this vocation.
Farming? Vocation?
I think so, at least for me.
One of the reasons we moved to the farm was to create the opportunity to raise health filled food for our kids. I wanted them to have the opportunity to eat nutrient-dense foods that would build healthy bodies. I also wanted them to appreciate the value of real food, to know the cost of real food, to know how it gets from dirt to table. All about food but somehow very spiritual for me. So many verses in the Bible speak of food, the land, agriculture. Taste and see that the Lord is good.
After over 4 years on the farm those Bible lessons have become amazingly pertinent to us.
Real food has also become very pertinent to us.
When we eat it is an exercise in gratitude. When we prepare foods for others it is an opportunity to transfer blessings to others. Every baking day we pray that the people who need our breads will find their way to market. That our breads and meats and milks and veggies would bring nourishment to the bones of those who partake.
Today we enjoyed steel gray clouds, fleeting sunshine, pumpkins, princesses, giant banana children, dogs on leashes who love our cornbread, hugs, chats, plans and farewell until the next growing season. We shared abundance, enjoyed others' abundance, we reveled in community.
Customer seems like an inadequate description when I think about the relationship we have with our grain, the mill, the milk and honey, the steam, the oven, the smell of yeasty goodness, sweat, tears, vitamins, sunshine, butcher paper, and families sharing grilled cheese and peanut butter and family pizza night. Guess I feel silly trying to describe the emotions. I guess if I were to distill it, it gives me joy to work hard and produce something that nourishes another person's body and spirit. I am probably going to feel pretty silly when I reread these lines later on. But I want to remember that even though at times I get tired and want to quit and run away to a town job and paint my fingernails I don't really. It is a satisfying thing to have a job with a purpose. Eating food that comes from a real person instead of a factory is a good thing. On many levels.
So the marathon is important. The aches, the outpouring of energy and sweat. All help us to remember that there is a cost to making really good foods. If it were that easy, everyone would do it. I was designed to work hard. Trained well by my parents!
But, oh joy! Am I ever going to enjoy sleeping in next Friday morning!!!
BTW, Philip is being the wonder Dad, taking the kids to trick-or-treat with friends in town. Thomas is dressed up in his grandfather's suit and hat. What a handsome guy! Patrick is an army man, of course. Maggie is a Greek princess. She looks stunning. Rose is Laura Ingalls, Her braids and bonnet, her freckled nose and mischievous grin are perfect. Nora is an angel. Silvery white, wings, and very, very excited about all the candy which she assures me she will not eat in one sitting, but will enjoy one piece a day and make it last for a very long time. We shall see. And don't I wish you could see Philip! He made himself a body builder costume! He looks just like one of those cartoon body builder characters, barbells and everything! What a good sport!
I am going to watch a Spanish scary movie, El orfanato(The Orphanage), and go to sleep.
Guess I should mention that as we drove home from market today, I noticed that the fall colors are nearing their end. Maple trees have their feet planted in pools of molten gold. The ridge is dominated by tired grey tree trunks, getting a little rusty around the edges. The air today was warm. Sultry. Or sullen. Over 70 degrees in town and slightly weepy. Maybe it wants to burst into storm but is waiting for the children to get tucked inside to count the candy and divvy up. Kids are more than pleased that the forecasted rain has not made an appearance yet.
PS OK, I know this is getting long, but everyone is gone, the house is still and I am enjoying myself!
I wanted to note for the record that my children have been making fun of me behind my back. They told Philip they have been watching my dance moves with George, the Royal Palm turkey. George agressively approaches me, I back away, desperately looking for a stick to use in my defense. He gobbles. I threaten. I tell him I am going to eat him for Thanksgiving dinner and he puffs his feathers in a dare. I skirt around the yard, looking for a way to get to the house without being flogged. The children laugh at me from their safe position behind the windows in the breakfast room.
Thanks a lot.
I told them I wasn't afraid of George. I believed what I said until I noticed that even Nora commands more respect from George. She doesn't even carry a stick. Hmmmm. Whatever the case, he better watch out! Or I had better pick up some tips from Nora.
End of October.
Today was end of official farmer's market season at Grandin Village and Ikenberry's Orchard. The season has been long and tiring. I haven't had a weekend off from baking since very early April. The last two weeks have felt a bit like torture. The grueling final 100 yards of the marathon, aching, sweating, pain coursing through the body.
Well, I have never actually run a marathon so I have no idea what one feels nearing the end. But in the case of market season, it has been painful. Too many hours on my feet. Too many hours awake in a row. But with an end in sight.
After a week off we will return to the site of the market and make bread drop offs. We will deliver bread to people who order ahead of time. I am absolutely humbled and astonished at the loyal support of our customers. Today I felt loved and appreciated by our customers. They love our breads and other farm goods and are grateful for my labor and efforts. They want to see our farm succeed. They are kind and make me feel loved.
Sometimes at the end of a 20 hour work day I wonder why I do this job. I feel a bit jealous of those other gals and guys who get to put on nice clothes, have adult conversations and do important work. Work in a clean office. Work that makes a salary and garnishes respect. I occasionally feel a bit envious of those folks watching TV, hanging out at the restaurants, or listening to the musicians. But if I wait long enough I remember the reason I chose this vocation.
Farming? Vocation?
I think so, at least for me.
One of the reasons we moved to the farm was to create the opportunity to raise health filled food for our kids. I wanted them to have the opportunity to eat nutrient-dense foods that would build healthy bodies. I also wanted them to appreciate the value of real food, to know the cost of real food, to know how it gets from dirt to table. All about food but somehow very spiritual for me. So many verses in the Bible speak of food, the land, agriculture. Taste and see that the Lord is good.
After over 4 years on the farm those Bible lessons have become amazingly pertinent to us.
Real food has also become very pertinent to us.
When we eat it is an exercise in gratitude. When we prepare foods for others it is an opportunity to transfer blessings to others. Every baking day we pray that the people who need our breads will find their way to market. That our breads and meats and milks and veggies would bring nourishment to the bones of those who partake.
Today we enjoyed steel gray clouds, fleeting sunshine, pumpkins, princesses, giant banana children, dogs on leashes who love our cornbread, hugs, chats, plans and farewell until the next growing season. We shared abundance, enjoyed others' abundance, we reveled in community.
Customer seems like an inadequate description when I think about the relationship we have with our grain, the mill, the milk and honey, the steam, the oven, the smell of yeasty goodness, sweat, tears, vitamins, sunshine, butcher paper, and families sharing grilled cheese and peanut butter and family pizza night. Guess I feel silly trying to describe the emotions. I guess if I were to distill it, it gives me joy to work hard and produce something that nourishes another person's body and spirit. I am probably going to feel pretty silly when I reread these lines later on. But I want to remember that even though at times I get tired and want to quit and run away to a town job and paint my fingernails I don't really. It is a satisfying thing to have a job with a purpose. Eating food that comes from a real person instead of a factory is a good thing. On many levels.
So the marathon is important. The aches, the outpouring of energy and sweat. All help us to remember that there is a cost to making really good foods. If it were that easy, everyone would do it. I was designed to work hard. Trained well by my parents!
But, oh joy! Am I ever going to enjoy sleeping in next Friday morning!!!
BTW, Philip is being the wonder Dad, taking the kids to trick-or-treat with friends in town. Thomas is dressed up in his grandfather's suit and hat. What a handsome guy! Patrick is an army man, of course. Maggie is a Greek princess. She looks stunning. Rose is Laura Ingalls, Her braids and bonnet, her freckled nose and mischievous grin are perfect. Nora is an angel. Silvery white, wings, and very, very excited about all the candy which she assures me she will not eat in one sitting, but will enjoy one piece a day and make it last for a very long time. We shall see. And don't I wish you could see Philip! He made himself a body builder costume! He looks just like one of those cartoon body builder characters, barbells and everything! What a good sport!
I am going to watch a Spanish scary movie, El orfanato(The Orphanage), and go to sleep.
Guess I should mention that as we drove home from market today, I noticed that the fall colors are nearing their end. Maple trees have their feet planted in pools of molten gold. The ridge is dominated by tired grey tree trunks, getting a little rusty around the edges. The air today was warm. Sultry. Or sullen. Over 70 degrees in town and slightly weepy. Maybe it wants to burst into storm but is waiting for the children to get tucked inside to count the candy and divvy up. Kids are more than pleased that the forecasted rain has not made an appearance yet.
PS OK, I know this is getting long, but everyone is gone, the house is still and I am enjoying myself!
I wanted to note for the record that my children have been making fun of me behind my back. They told Philip they have been watching my dance moves with George, the Royal Palm turkey. George agressively approaches me, I back away, desperately looking for a stick to use in my defense. He gobbles. I threaten. I tell him I am going to eat him for Thanksgiving dinner and he puffs his feathers in a dare. I skirt around the yard, looking for a way to get to the house without being flogged. The children laugh at me from their safe position behind the windows in the breakfast room.
Thanks a lot.
I told them I wasn't afraid of George. I believed what I said until I noticed that even Nora commands more respect from George. She doesn't even carry a stick. Hmmmm. Whatever the case, he better watch out! Or I had better pick up some tips from Nora.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
The Other White Meat
The boys and I drove back to Lewisburg, WV, to pick up our pork yesterday. The drive over the mountain was so beautiful. We had a great time talking about farm vision, winter plans, and learning how to drive.
We got home and were greeted by the scene of three little girls making pumpkin pie. Homemade whole wheat crust, pumpkin puree from the garden, eggs and cream.
I fried up pork chops for supper. Obvious choice! They were delicious. Baked potatoes on the side, milk and honey toast, goat's milk gravy over all of it. Pumpkin pie for dessert.
Maggie is ready to live on her own now, but I hope she stays here for a few more years. She can make omelets, cook veggies and meats, make amazing cookies and wonderful pie with homemade crusts. The first pumpkin pie of the season was consumed, I mean inhaled. So was most of the second one. We were quite satisfied with ourselves as I read the evening chapters of a biography we are studying for school.
This morning I cooked pork sausage for breakfast. We were so pleased to have that back on the menu. I am going to have to ration the sausage. We won't sell very much. It is moist, but not greasy. Well flavored but not overly salty. Let's hear it for pastured pork.
This afternoon I rendered the fat into lard. The ground up fat went into the kettle. I stirred and stirred as the fat melted and the little bits of cracklings popped. The lard was strained into clean mason jars and now sits to cool. I wish everyone had some snow white lard in their kitchen, ready for pies, stir-fries, fried eggs, whatever. Especially lard made from pastured pork. I read that lard from pork that ate lots of grass is a decent source of vitamin D. Hmmm. Isn't there a problem with people being deficient in vitamin D?
Anyway, that lard is white gold to me. Maybe Patrick will make some freshly milled spelt or whole wheat biscuits with that lard tomorrow to eat for breakfast.
Now, I better go check on the split pea soup that is cooking on the woodstove. The rain is chilly. Split pea soup and cornbread is on our menu for tonight. Cornbread with cracklins leftover from the lard. Come on over!
We got home and were greeted by the scene of three little girls making pumpkin pie. Homemade whole wheat crust, pumpkin puree from the garden, eggs and cream.
I fried up pork chops for supper. Obvious choice! They were delicious. Baked potatoes on the side, milk and honey toast, goat's milk gravy over all of it. Pumpkin pie for dessert.
Maggie is ready to live on her own now, but I hope she stays here for a few more years. She can make omelets, cook veggies and meats, make amazing cookies and wonderful pie with homemade crusts. The first pumpkin pie of the season was consumed, I mean inhaled. So was most of the second one. We were quite satisfied with ourselves as I read the evening chapters of a biography we are studying for school.
This morning I cooked pork sausage for breakfast. We were so pleased to have that back on the menu. I am going to have to ration the sausage. We won't sell very much. It is moist, but not greasy. Well flavored but not overly salty. Let's hear it for pastured pork.
This afternoon I rendered the fat into lard. The ground up fat went into the kettle. I stirred and stirred as the fat melted and the little bits of cracklings popped. The lard was strained into clean mason jars and now sits to cool. I wish everyone had some snow white lard in their kitchen, ready for pies, stir-fries, fried eggs, whatever. Especially lard made from pastured pork. I read that lard from pork that ate lots of grass is a decent source of vitamin D. Hmmm. Isn't there a problem with people being deficient in vitamin D?
Anyway, that lard is white gold to me. Maybe Patrick will make some freshly milled spelt or whole wheat biscuits with that lard tomorrow to eat for breakfast.
Now, I better go check on the split pea soup that is cooking on the woodstove. The rain is chilly. Split pea soup and cornbread is on our menu for tonight. Cornbread with cracklins leftover from the lard. Come on over!
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Cheese, Glorious Cheese
The other day Thomas ran up to the mailbox. He returned to the house bearing a big box.
What could that be?
I hadn't ordered anything. We looked and it was a package from my dear friend, Julie.
She mentioned there was a gift on the way and I had forgotten.
What in the world could that girl have sent?
We hurriedly tore open the tape and dug into the box. It was heavy, unwieldy.
I pulled it out of the box and my mouth opened wide. Julie's dad made me a beautiful cheese press. Perfect for making hard cheese. Some time ago I had mentioned how one of these days I hoped to get a cheese press for making hard cheese. She mentioned it to her dear old dad who is an accomplished wood worker. He looked up plans and made the most lovely of practical objects.
What an incredible gift. I have wished for a press for a couple of years. This press is not only lovely, but such a practical gift. And one that will last for years and years. And I know the hands that made it. Amazing.
Happy early birthday to me! What will the first cheese be? Romano? Cheddar? Can I please learn to make gruyere?
PLEEEEEEASE, Priscilla. Hurry up and have your baby. (I am wondering if she was not bred by the neighbor's bull and maybe she was bred by Duncan in March? Could that be true? Could it be possible she is only 7 or 8 months pregnant and we have to wait until December? Oh, well, if that is true, we better enjoy the break because when winter rolls around we could possibly be milking two cows,)
Dear friend, Julie, and Grandpa Ted, thank you so much for your kindness. Your gifts to me are so sweet. I will always treasure that cheese press. Functional Art. I can't wait until I can give you some cheese made from it!
What could that be?
I hadn't ordered anything. We looked and it was a package from my dear friend, Julie.
She mentioned there was a gift on the way and I had forgotten.
What in the world could that girl have sent?
We hurriedly tore open the tape and dug into the box. It was heavy, unwieldy.
I pulled it out of the box and my mouth opened wide. Julie's dad made me a beautiful cheese press. Perfect for making hard cheese. Some time ago I had mentioned how one of these days I hoped to get a cheese press for making hard cheese. She mentioned it to her dear old dad who is an accomplished wood worker. He looked up plans and made the most lovely of practical objects.
What an incredible gift. I have wished for a press for a couple of years. This press is not only lovely, but such a practical gift. And one that will last for years and years. And I know the hands that made it. Amazing.
Happy early birthday to me! What will the first cheese be? Romano? Cheddar? Can I please learn to make gruyere?
PLEEEEEEASE, Priscilla. Hurry up and have your baby. (I am wondering if she was not bred by the neighbor's bull and maybe she was bred by Duncan in March? Could that be true? Could it be possible she is only 7 or 8 months pregnant and we have to wait until December? Oh, well, if that is true, we better enjoy the break because when winter rolls around we could possibly be milking two cows,)
Dear friend, Julie, and Grandpa Ted, thank you so much for your kindness. Your gifts to me are so sweet. I will always treasure that cheese press. Functional Art. I can't wait until I can give you some cheese made from it!
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Rachel Banks was Back!
Our dear friend Rachel came for a visit this afternoon.
If you have been a long-term blog follower or family friend, you might remember Rachel. She lived with us for a time last year and worked as an intern on the farm. I have never known a lot of 19 year olds who would volunteer to shovel manure, wash dishes, milk goats and other hard labor for any length of time. Rachel not only volunteered, but consistently went the extra mile as she served our family. Guess I have to say that that has also been the case of every other young person who has come to help work on this farm. She not only worked hard, every day, she also loved our children and blessed them richly. As a result, they loved her right back.
We still love her, even if it is from afar, as she is now going to college in another state.
When Nora heard the news that Rachel was coming for a quick Saturday afternoon visit her eyes opened wide with delight.
"Rachel Banks is coming?!"
The girls immediately went to work on birthday card projects, remembering their sweet friend.
Along with Rachel we enjoyed getting to meet her dad. We walked around the farm, showed them the new forts built by the kids over the summer, showed off the barn full of hay, introduced the new lambs and the four little pigs. Explained that if George the turkey tries to chase you, don't run, just get a stick!
When we left for the farmer's market this morning the dark clouds dumped rain. As soon as we got to town it seemed like a curtain was lifted and the blue skies and sun came out. Fall turned into Indian Summer. Sweat dripped. It was over 80 degrees! What a change after the 26 degrees the other day.
Perfect for a walk on the farm with our dear friend, Rachel Banks and her dad. Glorious fall is now more orange and brown than red and green. We are nearing the end of October. Halloween costumes are definitely the most urgent concern of all children 12 and younger.
After saying goodbye to our precious friend, we prepared to go to a hoedown at the home of some neighbor friends. The bonfire raged, the wind picked up, the kettle of hobo stew bubbled in the cauldron. Children played fun games, homemade doughnuts were consumed, new friends made.
Tired, we headed back home to quiet.
The moon is a crescent, tipping down. Growing. The wind is growing as well. I am growing sleepy and am so thankful to have a nice warm bed to fall into.
Most of all, with all the other fun people we were around today, I am especially thankful for the special bond we have with someone who slept in our house, ate our food, worked, played and prayed with us. What a dear friend is our Rachel Banks.
If you have been a long-term blog follower or family friend, you might remember Rachel. She lived with us for a time last year and worked as an intern on the farm. I have never known a lot of 19 year olds who would volunteer to shovel manure, wash dishes, milk goats and other hard labor for any length of time. Rachel not only volunteered, but consistently went the extra mile as she served our family. Guess I have to say that that has also been the case of every other young person who has come to help work on this farm. She not only worked hard, every day, she also loved our children and blessed them richly. As a result, they loved her right back.
We still love her, even if it is from afar, as she is now going to college in another state.
When Nora heard the news that Rachel was coming for a quick Saturday afternoon visit her eyes opened wide with delight.
"Rachel Banks is coming?!"
The girls immediately went to work on birthday card projects, remembering their sweet friend.
Along with Rachel we enjoyed getting to meet her dad. We walked around the farm, showed them the new forts built by the kids over the summer, showed off the barn full of hay, introduced the new lambs and the four little pigs. Explained that if George the turkey tries to chase you, don't run, just get a stick!
When we left for the farmer's market this morning the dark clouds dumped rain. As soon as we got to town it seemed like a curtain was lifted and the blue skies and sun came out. Fall turned into Indian Summer. Sweat dripped. It was over 80 degrees! What a change after the 26 degrees the other day.
Perfect for a walk on the farm with our dear friend, Rachel Banks and her dad. Glorious fall is now more orange and brown than red and green. We are nearing the end of October. Halloween costumes are definitely the most urgent concern of all children 12 and younger.
After saying goodbye to our precious friend, we prepared to go to a hoedown at the home of some neighbor friends. The bonfire raged, the wind picked up, the kettle of hobo stew bubbled in the cauldron. Children played fun games, homemade doughnuts were consumed, new friends made.
Tired, we headed back home to quiet.
The moon is a crescent, tipping down. Growing. The wind is growing as well. I am growing sleepy and am so thankful to have a nice warm bed to fall into.
Most of all, with all the other fun people we were around today, I am especially thankful for the special bond we have with someone who slept in our house, ate our food, worked, played and prayed with us. What a dear friend is our Rachel Banks.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Pumpkin Soup
Today the children and I cleaned out the barn for school. We raked stalls, swept floors, general cleanup.
Manure is so daily.
We also moved the four little piggies out to their new home in the portable pen in the garden. That is, the royal we. Actually, Thomas and Patrick caught the little boogers, put then in a cage and carted them out. I love delegation! The four little pigs were absolutely delighted. They went right to work rooting up weeds, eating grass and frolicking with each other. Their little pink ears flopped in the breeze.
It was such a lovely day I let the turkeys out of their portable coop. They too were delighted. George, the royal palm big daddy turkey herded them around the farm, introducing them to the most tender grass spots and the best places to catch bugs. What a big world.
I met a gal at the Grandin Farmer's market this spring. She and her hubby work on a farm in Floyd. We grab quick hellos and hey, how's it goings while we busily tend to market business. Ever since May we have wished to grab some time to swap stories and dreams, but alas, the life of a farmer is pretty full. Hard for either to get off the premises.
Today they were able to take a day to hike up to McAfee's Knob. Afterward they meandered over here for lunch.
What fun to spend the day hanging out! We made curried pumpkin soup and homemade spelt naan. Naan is a fluffy Indian bread that we LOOOOVE. I love getting to hear dreams and share our journey and laugh. These folks are about to move to start up their own farm in another state. We won't be seeing them at market next year.
Too bad.
But thanks to their willingness to travel a fer piece, we got to make a sweet connection and internet is a handy way too keep in touch until their path flows this way again. I believe they have their own blog so it will be fun sharing farm journeys.
In case you have a pumpkin sitting around, I hope you will eventually roast it. Best thing to do is cut it in half, scrape out the seeds and goo, put cut side down on a cookie sheet and roast at 350 degrees til soft. Scoop out the flesh and run it through the blender. You now have pumpkin puree that is wayyy better than the canned stuff. Especially if you grew it yourself or bought it locally. Make your chicken broth and add lots of pumpkin. A generous serving of curry powder. Use a hand held blender if you have one to blend the soup into a silky concoction. I like to add heavy cream (WHEN we are milking the cow!). Taste then salt to your preference. A dollop of sour cream and a dash of tabasco are nice touches. With or without, it is a great soup for warming your belly.
Sometime I will have to give you my recipe for naan. Homemade whole wheat or spelt naan is so much better than storebought.
I hope everyone is enjoying this weather. Warm. Indian summer? Absolutely delicious. Just like pumpkin soup and friends!
Manure is so daily.
We also moved the four little piggies out to their new home in the portable pen in the garden. That is, the royal we. Actually, Thomas and Patrick caught the little boogers, put then in a cage and carted them out. I love delegation! The four little pigs were absolutely delighted. They went right to work rooting up weeds, eating grass and frolicking with each other. Their little pink ears flopped in the breeze.
It was such a lovely day I let the turkeys out of their portable coop. They too were delighted. George, the royal palm big daddy turkey herded them around the farm, introducing them to the most tender grass spots and the best places to catch bugs. What a big world.
I met a gal at the Grandin Farmer's market this spring. She and her hubby work on a farm in Floyd. We grab quick hellos and hey, how's it goings while we busily tend to market business. Ever since May we have wished to grab some time to swap stories and dreams, but alas, the life of a farmer is pretty full. Hard for either to get off the premises.
Today they were able to take a day to hike up to McAfee's Knob. Afterward they meandered over here for lunch.
What fun to spend the day hanging out! We made curried pumpkin soup and homemade spelt naan. Naan is a fluffy Indian bread that we LOOOOVE. I love getting to hear dreams and share our journey and laugh. These folks are about to move to start up their own farm in another state. We won't be seeing them at market next year.
Too bad.
But thanks to their willingness to travel a fer piece, we got to make a sweet connection and internet is a handy way too keep in touch until their path flows this way again. I believe they have their own blog so it will be fun sharing farm journeys.
In case you have a pumpkin sitting around, I hope you will eventually roast it. Best thing to do is cut it in half, scrape out the seeds and goo, put cut side down on a cookie sheet and roast at 350 degrees til soft. Scoop out the flesh and run it through the blender. You now have pumpkin puree that is wayyy better than the canned stuff. Especially if you grew it yourself or bought it locally. Make your chicken broth and add lots of pumpkin. A generous serving of curry powder. Use a hand held blender if you have one to blend the soup into a silky concoction. I like to add heavy cream (WHEN we are milking the cow!). Taste then salt to your preference. A dollop of sour cream and a dash of tabasco are nice touches. With or without, it is a great soup for warming your belly.
Sometime I will have to give you my recipe for naan. Homemade whole wheat or spelt naan is so much better than storebought.
I hope everyone is enjoying this weather. Warm. Indian summer? Absolutely delicious. Just like pumpkin soup and friends!
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