Mass coronal ejection=Northern Lights. Somehow, neither phrase catches the splendor of the moment.
"Tyger Tyger, burning bright, In the forests of the night; What immortal hand or eye, Could frame thy fearful symmetry? …" William Blake
Maybe this doesn’t count as a real snow, but the flakes drifted down all day on Sunday.
I dug the last of the carrots and leeks and a few of the beets.
We had a great time on Saturday feeding people chicken soup and Piggies in a Blanket…with Michael’s home made bread as the “blankets.” I think all the grands snoozed on their way home.
I’ve been enjoying reminders of their visit every day since!
This post features the joys of collards, which are frost hardy (good to 5° F). The last green thing standing in the garden.
We have eaten a lot of collards lately.
Oura thinks highly of collards, but it defaults to spinach on its food identifier. (Michael got me an Oura ring for my birthday.) The collards and leeks were sautéed together in butter then stirred into the boiled red potatoes, mashed with a splash of milk. This is a variation on colcannon, an Irish concoction of mashed potatoes with cabbage or kale, scallions or leeks. Collards are close cousins of kale. Oura didn’t recognize colcannon, so I listed the ingredients.
Oura initially thought we were having beef. Oura will estimate what is in my food photo and then I can correct it. It can get some common foods right, like pizza (a food many of its users consume), and also can spot some more exotic dishes, like feijoada and farofa. Who eats duck regularly? We do!
I did list a bunch of vegetables, including the collards, Michael added to his soup. They didn’t show up on the summary. But they did add to the nutritional profile.
This dessert had no collards, but consisted mostly of apples, which also are frost hardy. I made this “Hidden Apple Cake” dessert with less sugar than the recipe called for. Think apples coated with a crepe batter then baked. A delicious way to use up a lot of apples. Peeling and coring took the most time in this process. Michael prefers his apples in pies. I’ll have to compare apple content. Personally, I loved this cake. My girls gave it two thumbs up as well.
Michael made potato pancakes out of the leftover colcannon. Given that we left the jackets on the potatoes and that collards were almost half the mix, “vegetable fritters” was close enough. I made ratatouille with the very last of the small eggplants. I love eggplants. Michael, however, would have felt deprived if I had served ratatouille as the main dish.
Tonight’s dinner featured gnocchi, as I needed to use up a few potatoes that were too damaged to store. I ran across my gnocchi roller while looking for something else and was inspired. Gnocchi are surprisingly easy to make. As with everything, having the ingredients and tools (like a potato ricer) at hand really helps. Who has room temperature eggs laying around? We do! Who has wild turkey kielbasa at hand? We do! Who has collards in the garden? We do! This makes the question, “What’s for dinner?” a daily adventure. Now you know why I want a big kitchen. More space to play!
A few observations about this ring. It does a good job of gently reminding me to maintain a consistent sleep schedule. It doesn’t do as good of a job at giving me options to record periods of physical activity. It doesn’t have a “gardening “ workout, only “yard work.” It has a myriad of other physical activities, such as “spinning,” “pickleball,” “tennis,” and such, but no “housework,” “construction,” or “splitting wood.” I work hard while cooking, but that isn’t a recognized activity either. This piece of health tech is mostly designed for people who live in different social circumstances than we do, as in: my stress scores are minimal. It is odd that I have one of these, but sleep is important! When Michael and I both have bad sleep scores, we change something (like starting the humidifier during heating season) and sleep better. We could probably do this without the tech, but having data feedback prompts us to make needed changes. Here’s to living well (eat more collards)!
We have been here in Wisconsin for eleven years now. We have celebrated the Days of the Dead by visiting gravesites since 2019. I don’t have a journal entry for 2021 as my daughter’s water broke when we got back from our rounds; the grand guy made his appearance on this date 4 years ago.
His latest fascination is with The Hobbit and dinosaurs, which are kin to dragons. My daughter carried on the tradition of making fabulous birthday cakes (one started by my mother), and made the Grand Guy Smaug’s lair. It was delicious!
We started visiting our dead early yesterday. It rained a little, but for Wisconsin in November, was quite nice.
We began our rounds with a visit to Summa and Bucka. The kids ran around the gravestones and we snacked and chatted, deciding that GG#2 has Bucka’s eyes, except his were blue and hers are hazel. Bringing photos of the dead is part of the ritual. GG#1 may be the only one in her school to wear her art project in a culturally appropriate place.
We spent winter holidays with Klink and Harriette for the 16 years we lived in St. Paul; they were extra grandparents to our girls and we were children they never had. Klink died shortly after we moved to Maine. Michael drove back to visit Harriette every six weeks. She was living in her own house when we moved to Wisconsin after Clyde died. I held her hand as she died. They are all so much a part of us still.
Harriette would always say, “Oh, I sound like Hartwig” if she asked how much something cost or where we got it. It wasn’t until we began visiting the Cushing graveyard that I figured out that he was her uncle. In an odd way, a part of Hartwig lives on with us.
We go to Cushing to visit Cleone (Nonie) and Ralph. They used to live in Elk River, MN, which is also where there is a county jail. Many of my clients were kept there pre-trial. When I would go to visit the jail, Michael would drive me and then go and visit Ralph and Cleone. Michael and his brothers would spend time at Ralph and Cleone’s as boys, going fishing and running rampant. They were dear friends with Summa and Bucka. Nonie brought Ralph back to Cushing with her in death to be with family (note the extra photos!) We always bring them Manhattans, which is what Summa said they served at holiday parties.
Here’s to you, Nonie and Ralph. Aunt Harriette told so many stories of her and Nonie going fishing or picking berries. Cleone died years before Harriette did, but she was always by Harriette’s side.
The little ones play peekaboo, hide and seek, and run races. Holidays are always much more joyful with children creating chaos. I can only imagine all of the laughter shared by generations that came before. We may only visit once a year, but so many live in our hearts all year round.
Score: 3 old windows down; 2 new windows up; 1 old window and 1 new window to go. Siding up on all but one side of our six sided house. (Think L shape.)
The problem with repairing the outside is that the insulation in certain walls was rotted due to leakage. Bad windows. Poorly installed vent. Holes in walls.
See that pipe running through the wall behind the toilet? That used to drain the washing machine when it was a 3 season cabin. When Michael’s folks added water protection by having a basement put under part of the original house, water draining through an outside wall would freeze. They had a new drain pipe installed away from the wall, but didn’t get rid of the original drain pipe. This means that there was a BIG hole in the wallboard and no vapor barrier…which is a recipe for condensation and mold. Yep. We removed wallboard to put up new insulation and then replaced the wallboard. BTW, the wall with the toilet paper hanger will be torn down, the bathroom will go elsewhere, and this will become a laundry room.
And yes, it was very tricky getting the wallboard out from behind the toilet, and tricky getting it back in. I used a vice grips plyer to take the screws out from behind the commode.
Getting the wallboard out from the washer drainpipe area required removing the one running through the wall, capping it off in the basement, and sneaking new wallboard into an area that has no nailing surface due to the way the wall was simply slapped up against the outside wall without a nailer installed inside the wall. We will have to remove the wallboard in this area again when we take down the wall behind the washer. We will tape the unsecured joints to seal that wall until we start the interior renovation of this area. Such are the delights of working on a house in which you are living.
We still need to move the LP gas piping so we can install the dryer in that area where Michael is facing. You can see the dryer vent down there at the bottom.
In order to open the dryer door once it has moved into the small bathroom, we need to remove the old shower surround. It feels so good to be getting rid of this shower. It always leaked (the subflooring will have to be replaced due to water damage), was a death trap for Irene (it has a 7” step to get in and she fell more than once trying to get out), and was too small to be able to bend down to wash your feet (Irene’s feet needed a lot of care when we arrived).
We got insulation and wallboard up in the orange room too. Michael commented on how much brighter the room seems with a white wall. Clyde and Irene tended to paint all surfaces with dark colors, and then never had overhead lighting. Irene loved curtains, so the windows they had were always covered. It made for very dark spaces. And mold. This probably explains my efforts to open up the floor plan, have windows and doors aligned so you can see from one end of the house to the other, and have as few window coverings as possible.
“In spite of ourselves, we’ll be sitting at the end of the rainbow; against all odds, honey you’re the big door prize…”. John Prine. We face a certain amount of challenges, but this is so worth the effort.
We pressed almost 14 gallons of apple cider this past weekend. We could press that much more if we picked all the apples from our trees. We have neither the space nor the desire. Cold weather has finally come.
We started with the Harralsons. Michael had picked a bunch and we pressed all that he picked, so we picked some more.
The Middle Grand Girl lent a helping hand throughout the process. The OGG (original grand girl) woke up with a stiff neck, so mostly watched.
By the end of day, she felt well enough to pick her favorite pumpkin and haul it away. Michael has since transferred the squash and pumpkins into their basement home for the winter. The next day (yesterday), Michael and I pressed another 5 gallons of Honey Crisp. The cider is now gently fermenting away, except for the juice we kept to drink immediately.
We celebrated the end of cidering with some pear cider (it is fizzy!), kielbasa, potato dumplings, and sauerkraut.
I made my kimchi and delivered some to a friend. She shares my love for duck liver pate and spicy food. I’ve been having kimchi with my egg and toast for breakfast every day. I added some of my leeks to the mix this year. Mmmmmmm.
Fall, in all its glory.
30° this morning.
Fog in the river valley.
The houseplants all came in last night, after getting a trim.
Along with the very last tomatoes…
…eggplants…
…green beans…
…peppers, potatoes, jalapeños…
…and leeks.
Michael planted garlic today.
The pumpkin vines died.
As did the eggplants and peppers. The leeks survived splendidly.
Butter and eggs are the last wildflowers to hang on.
Morning light becomes long.
Birds flock.
Corn cobs tip downward, where they can stay dry all winter if need be.
Harvest moon, and the farmers really do use this extra light.
We have so much to celebrate.
We raise a glass of elderberry wine to the end of summer. (And yes, it is divine!)
We moved the pear cider and elderberry wine from their primary fermenters into carboys yesterday. And there’s the sauerkraut behind the grain grinder, gently bubbling away.
We move the liquid from one container to another via a siphon equipped with a hand pump. The pump starts the siphon. The bottom of the pump is designed to sit off the bottom of the container so it doesn’t vacuum up the accumulated sediment.
The pear smelled flowery and had a certain amount of carbonation going on. The elderberry smelled like a lovely red wine and had no carbonation.
Michael declared it was time to move wine and cider due to looking at the separation visible through the container. We also need those primary fermenters so we have a place to start more cider when we press the apples that are sitting in the garage.
Michael gets the job of holding the pump steady because he’s taller. Stirring up the lees in the bottom isn’t fatal, but the idea is to leave as much of that behind as possible.
The pears produced more solids than the elderberries.
My job on the other end of the siphon is to make sure the carboy doesn’t overflow. I pinch off the tube with one hand and fill bottles with any extra liquid with the other. There was a lot of pear cider left over, but not much elderberry. You can see the pear beginning to settle and clear.
All those bubbles in the cabbage are the product of fermentation. Once the cabbage tastes like sauerkraut (getting there but hasn’t arrived), we will put the jar in the outside fridge to slow the process down. We do the same with our pickles. We fill quart jars to use from the inside fridge. I have yet to begin my kimchi, but I still have cabbages to pick. We hit 87° today, which is a bit warm for fermenting cabbage. Next week is due to be cooler. We do what we can in the time we have.
…mostly in our children’s freezers.
Braised duck legs, tomatoes, green beans, red and blue potatoes. The pay is bad but the food is good.
Having people to feed is better yet.
We finished the bird harvest today.
We began the squash harvest yesterday.
Tomorrow Michael and I will make eight pies for my church’s annual fall festival: pumpkin, apple, and rhubarb. And then October will arrive. Things might slow down by March.
At 8 PM, darkness reigns, Michael quietly sleeps, rain gently falls. We have had a week of work.
These are three of the eight or so cabbages Michael grew. They weigh about eight pounds each. We needed to get the biggest ones out of the garden so they would not split in the rain.
I have a 14” knife perfect for parting out these Dutch Flat Heads.
I love cabbage patterns.
This is what 5 pounds of thin-sliced cabbage looks like. All told, I sliced 15 pounds from 2 heads. I used one pound to make okonomiyaki.
The rest is now gently fermenting into sauerkraut. I hope to make kimchi with other cabbage, but I need to find some daikon radish first.
Michael has been picking the apples off of our trees. We have lost a number of branches as we haven’t had time to thin. Michael has filled about 20 5 gallon buckets with apples and stashed them in the garage. He has dumped trailer-loads of apples out where the deer can eat them. Cider-making is on the triage list.
He began harvesting the popcorn, even though the husks are still a bit green. The squirrels have been pillaging the stalks and Michael has been salvaging what is left…which is plenty.
Our new hens (pullets) are laying. “Pullet eggs” are these tiny things.
In an effort to free some freezer space (we still have 15 ducks that need to go before winter sets in), I rendered three pounds of duck skin. We have large blocks of deer tallow in the freezer that need to be turned into soap. But deer tallow likes to be cut with a softer fat to make good soap. The deer-duck mix is my favorite, not only for texture, but somehow it turns out smelling like milk chocolate. We gobbled down the cracklings and I froze the 3 cups of duck fat.
The eggplants ripened at last! We have been eating Eggplant Parmesan, Pasta alla Norma, baba ganoush, stir-fried eggplant with crispy chile sauce, and I cruise the internet for other eggplant ideas. I toss eggplant with salt and olive oil and grill it until soft, scoop the flesh out and freeze it for winter dishes. Michael is experimenting with drying it to see if we can preserve it without using freezer space.
The green beans. They taste amazing when picked and cooked within the hour.
I’ve been using some of my chicken fat (shmaltz) to sauté vegetables. The Golden Laced Wyandottes have the best fat.
Geese gather.
Trees turn.
Light lengthens.
Warm sock weather will soon arrive.
This bonfire represents a pyre to the memory of my father-in-law, who always built to the very least tolerance. If something cost three cents less, but was twice as shoddy, he went for whatever cost less. Even understanding that my in-laws did an amazing amount on very little, burning this particular siding felt liberating.
Michael rightly decided that the project we needed to tackle this year would be replacing the last of the old siding. Since we plan to gut this section of the house and repurpose the space, I had to envision and then locate where future windows needed to go. I started that process in February. One of the future windows landed right in the middle of the closet wall, so I began dismantling it. This required switching between three types of screwdriver bits (star bit screws not pictured) and figuring out how all these tiny bits of lathe had been puzzled together to make shelving and closet poles.
The contractor showed up on May 8th. We removed the back steps and in one day he installed our new door. Clyde had used a door made for 2x4 studs, but the house was built with 2x6s. This meant the door could never fully open. Because Irene always wanted a red house, and we were switching to galvanized steel, we bought a red door in her memory.
In a nod to Clyde, I fit the old hardware to the new door. I did take off all the old paint.
While the builder was working on the door, I was taking the trim off the old bathroom window. This area will transition from being a bathroom into being a laundry.
In about a week, the builder had one new window in, two old windows out (and holes covered up), and the interior wallboard removed to work on taking out and putting in another window. The old windows leaked, rotting the siding under them, which needed replacing. The original builders failed to put vapor barrier on one part of the wall, which had mold. I read up on and remediated the mold problem. Then we never heard from this guy again. It took us all of June to realize our abandonment.
This area will get narrower and become a new bathroom.
Michael and I began putting up metal in August and replaced the rotten wood with green plywood.
By the end of the month we had siding up to the corner. We got slowed down by having to disconnect water and electricity, as well as installing a new dryer vent. The commode, sink, and shower will come out of this space and the door will move to allow the dryer to fit in this corner. The plumbing for the commode will get repurposed for the washer, and the washer plumbing will be used for a utility sink. Michael and our son-in-law Matt got the old window out and plywood covering the hole.
We located a new builder to finish the northeast side, which was a blessing. Having the right equipment for the job, not to mention the knowledge, is important! He and his helper got the new window in, soffit up, and metal up. They finished yesterday. The last wall with wood siding will have to wait until next year to get replaced. But in the meantime, we are weather-tight, at least on the outside. We still need to remove interior wallboard to access the area from which the first guy removed moldy insulation, install new insulation, and put up new wallboard. But we can do that. It just feels good to start repurposing this space.
This tomato weighed in at 1 kilogram.
Not to be outdone, Michael dug a potato weighing in at 3 pounds, 2 ounces.
This time of year, all the nightshades begin to cascade. These are the ripe tomatoes from one plant.
One red potato plant produced 26.5 pounds of potatoes.
Michael figures the potatoes loved having the nutrients from last winter’s deer pyre.
These are the tomatoes I picked this morning.
We ate two for breakfast.
6.5 pounds of cherry tomatoes got roasted and then stewed with onions, garlic, thyme, basil, capers, red pepper flakes, really good olive oil, salt and pepper to make 4.5 pints of pasta sauce. Processed in a water bath, they will brighten a winter day.
9 pounds of tomatoes made 5 pints of tomato jam. No pectin in this recipe, just a really long boil until the tomato-jalapeño-sugar mix reached 220° F.
This is how many tomatoes we have left at the end of the day. Tomorrow threatens rain again, which gives us inside time for canning. We also will need to add yeast to our pear juice so the hard cider process can begin. I’ve been drinking the leftover pear juice straight. Ahhhhh. Now it is time for a shower and bed.
A mid-afternoon Honeycrisp cider reminds us why we grow fruit and press it. The early pears came ripe when we had no time. They fed the bees.
Yesterday the Uhr pears came ripe. We picked all that we could reach, which filled every pail we have.
We squished pears today. We got 8 gallons of pear juice. 6 we will process into cider. We will do something delicious with the rest.
We picked elderberries two weeks ago. I separated 28 pounds of berries from their stems. 24 pounds went into making five gallons of juice which with 10 pounds of sugar, will make 6 gallons of wine. It smells heavenly! I still have 2 paper bags of berries to process. The 4 pounds of berries I have done that didn’t go into the fermenter I made into juice. I’ve been drinking it with seltzer for an afternoon mocktail. No need to add sugar! If I can get to the rest of those berries before they molder, I will make jelly or try some syrup.
A warning and observation about elderberries. They are covered in a waxy substance that must be fat based. I say this because detergent is ineffective for getting it off. I forgot to remove my ring before squeezing the juice out of the berry bag for the wine. To get the sticky stuff off, I coated my ring in baking soda. Fats are acidic. Baking soda is basic. Bases love to combine with acids, which cleaned off that impervious wax. It is that wax which preserves those berries for such a long time after being picked.
The second chemical reaction with elder juice results from its phenolphthalein content, which turns red in an acidic environment and is blue in a base. Really it is colorless in a base, but my berry juice is blue. I added vinegar after removing the wax with baking soda, which resulted in foam and that pinkish tint.
In mid-August I strained the alcohol off the green walnuts, added maple syrup for a sweetener, and put it in clear bottles. It definitely needs to age to balance the tannins, but the aroma promises something extraordinary. In January, I’ll know if nocino will become a tradition.
Two days ago we processed 6 roosters and 3 old ducks. Daughter # 2 & family came to help with the outdoor stage of processing.
We fed everyone BLTs for lunch and then Daughter #1 & family stayed to help with the indoor part of the process. They get chicken, duck, and duck sausages, so they have a personal stake getting the birds off pasture.
Part of preparing for winter involves replenishing our straw supply. We ran out too soon this year. We bought straw and have the duck’s winter quarters stacked high. We hope to get a few more bales in there before snow flies.
We managed to go to the fair this year. One day is never enough to see everything I’d like to see, but taking the time to spend with family and friends is more important.
As is babysitting this sweet pea! If I don’t get the rest of those berries processed, I will have some very good memories instead.
My father called insects, snakes, and various living creatures “animalitos de Dios”, or small animals of God. I remember the eldest Grand Girl stopping to peer at a burrowing bee on her way to daycare. I share her fascination with all that creeps, slinks, flies, buzzes, flutters, spins, burrows, bites, stings, and makes its living in this world. So I take photos in the hope of finding out who they are.
Like this cicada, they often are colorfully intricate. I grew up gathering cicada larva husks at my grandparents house in New Mexico. I remember being amazed by the perfectly round holes drilled all over the ground where the larvae emerged in the summertime. They are less common in Wisconsin.
This is a Virginia Ctenucha, a type of moth that feeds on irises as a caterpillar and on goldenrod as a moth. It caught my eye on one of my Zeke walks.
I tried to figure out who this is, but there are too many black and red beetles out there. Too large for a lady bug and the markings are wrong.
This may seem like another black and red mystery beetle, but its presence on milkweed helped me find out that it is a Red Milkweed Beetle. It shares milkweed with the monarchs…and is uninterested in my garden!
This is a hunting spider on a milkweed. I have made my peace with spiders, as they are everywhere I go and part of almost everything I do. They help control flies, gnats, mosquitos, and other pests. Not all spiders spin and weave, but most are my friends.
The top photo are the eggs of a Japanese Beetle, which is that shiny girl in the second photo. These beetles are invasive and voracious. There is a little red guy below the beetle. He’s the larva of a Colorado Potato Beetle. They are also invasive and voracious. I patrol the potato patches daily (ideally) and make war with these two pests. It’s a labor-intensive, icky job. So it goes if you don’t use pesticides but still want potatoes. Add potatoes to the list of vegetables I do not buy anymore because they don’t taste good from the store.
I’ve been watching the woolly bear caterpillars growing over the summer. They turn into Isabella tiger moths in the springtime. They freeze solid in the winter, reviving with the spring thaw. It is said that you can tell how cold the winter will be by the width of the brown band. I cannot corroborate this, but they do tend to have different width of markings grouped by year.
These two caterpillars mimicked branches, which means they probably are some type of lytrosis caterpillar. They both have grippers fore and aft, allowing them to inch along as well as hold themselves out like parts of a tree.
This is an 8 Spotted Forester moth. It lives all over the US, but likes areas where forests meet fields. I found this one on my currant bush, which meets its eco niche.
This is a bumble bee having a snooze on a thistle. There are different types of bees. Bumbles live in small colonies and often over-night on flowers. Nests are underground, but the bumbles are larger than ground bees, who also live underground. Bears around here will dig up ground bee colonies to raid their honey.
This sweet little hopper-type fellow came in with me. I gently took him back out. He tickled but wasn’t a biter.
I’m including the huitlacoche, locally known as “corn smut”, as fungi are more related to animals than plants. This year I had sweet corn smut before finding some on field corn. Sautéed in olive oil with salt and pepper, and then dressed with lime juice, both were delicious. The field corn smut improved with a little sugar added.
Birds build nests on ladders, in canoes, wherever there is a protected horizontal space. These are robins. We waited for them to fledge before we used that ladder.
Snakes love basking in the sun. The top is a garter snake hanging out by my garage. He let me walk by him several times before moving along. The other is a gopher snake on the road. As with the spiders, snakes have become my friends. They are great for gardens and coops.
Dusty lost an eye in a cat fight. He still patrols the property for mice, living his best life. May we all find our niche and occupy it well.
The Grands from Girl #1 are old enough to spend time with us sans parents. We didn’t know if we would have space for beds this year, as we are under construction. We made it work out.
It’s not pretty (yet), but there’s no exposed insulation. A window came out. A window went into a different place. Everything got swept and mopped. Tools put away. Beds put up. I hope to eventually carve a new bathroom out of this space.
On Day 1 they settled in, helped Boopa put the birds to bed, and picked the first watermelon.
Day 2: we explored the Wisconsin side of the pothole region of the St. Croix River. “Potholes” are formed when a rock gets caught in an eddy and bores a hole in the basalt. Some of the holes are more than 100 feet deep. The rocks, called “grinders”, look like huge bowling balls. After hiking the pothole trail, we wandered a beach further downstream. The basalt gives way to sandstone, which in turn gets eroded back to sand. We saw a number of different mollusks. The girls liked the shells the otters left for us. Ice cream at the overlook in St. Croix Falls and the girls zonked.
Day 3: back to the river, but this time to take a river boat ride. Michael’s assessment: good to have done once but not worth a repeat. I think the girls weren’t interested in the scenery. Note to self: do things with children where they can run.
Day 4: the cousins came to play! Waffles for breakfast and enchiladas for lunch. Then home with mom.
Even the squirrel waved goodbye.
Smoke from Canada slowed us down for a full two weeks. Two days ago we awoke to cool, clean air; time for a bike ride.
This is the longest ride we’ve accomplished this year and it included some steep terrain. Our longest ever was a little over 17 miles, but was pre-knee injuries. Getting back to this level has been a long haul. Michael could ride by himself, but he says it’s too lonely, so we challenge each other. We’ve been exercising together for over 30 years. It hasn’t kept us from the bane of arthritis, but we’re still moving.
Biking (and walking) gets us out to see the sights. Butterflies flutter.
The corn is in silk.
The wild cucumber climbs any convenient lump: branch, bush, or stump.
Foxtails flash bronze as we fly by.
I had to look up this pretty plant: purple loosestrife. I’ve only seen it in my neighbor’s ditch. He has a boat. Imagine that. We saw even more beautiful flowers on our ride, but I can’t manage to pedal and take photos at the same time. Believe me. I’ve tried. These are from Zeke walks.
Last night an amazing thunderstorm blew through, complete with hail and high winds. One lightning strike came so close it nearly knocked me out of bed. I had nightmares of shredded tomato plants. Today, armored in long sleeves and clippers, I was prepared for disaster. I removed some broken vines, trimmed a lot of suckers, but there wasn’t as much damage as I feared. The tomato patch may have been mostly saved due to being behind a mass of grape vines and also pretty dense. As a reward for trimming vines, I spied our first ripe fruit. To show how much I love him, I saved a few for Michael. Michael dug the patch. I planted the starts. We both weed.
Onions. We love onions. High in vitamin C, they last us all winter and through early spring. Michael plants them and harvests them (bending over is still really hard on my knees) and he puts them in the sun to dry every day for a week. We take them into the garage at night. Then I make braids and into the basement they go. The ones that have soft spots I set aside and we use those first. Onion quiche. Onion soup. Onion pasta sauce with beet greens. Once we ran out of onions and bought some at the store. We stopped eating onions. We each have our separate tasks in growing, harvesting, and storing them, based on physical limitations and abilities. We both weed.
We have great incentives to take care of ourselves and each other. A side effect of doing stuff is being able to do stuff, and then having stuff to share. And the food is really good.
The chokecherries ripen in late July. Good chokecherry jelly is hard to come by, if only because choke cherries grow wild. If you buy jelly, it often lacks the richness of my jelly, as it is cut with apple juice. Properly made choke cherry jelly should be deep, dark, and velvety.
The cherries grow on racimes, namely, spronging off a central stem. It’s one way you can identify the bushes/short trees in the springtime: the blossoms are unique and visible.
Preparing the juice is akin to any jelly recipe: cover cleaned cherries just barely with water, boil for 15 minutes, mash, strain.
Eighteen cups of cherries rendered seven and a half cups of juice.
Seven and a half cups of juice, with ten and a half cups of sugar and pectin, made fifteen jars of jelly.
The difficult part of chokecherry jelly is doing all of this at 90° and 61% humidity.
The black walnuts steeped in water turned cloudy by Day 7. Took me 2 more days to find time for the next step: chopping them and spreading to dry for a day. You can see the nuts start to oxidize once exposed to air. I wore gloves and tossed the plastic cutting board after this step.
The nuts turned this deep black-brown once dried. Into a stainless pot with vinegar, red wine (and some rhubarb because it took 4 cups for 4 pounds of nuts, and a bottle of wine equals 3 cups), cloves, allspice, black pepper (toasted together and fresh ground, these spices soar to a whole new level), onions, garlic, anchovies, ginger, horseradish, and a lotta salt. Simmered for 20 minutes. House smelled wonderful. Then came the hard part.
You need to blenderize the nuts, etc., and then strain the solids out of the juice. I was not familiar with putting hot mixtures into a blender. It creates a steam bomb that blows off the lid (even if you are holding it tightly) and spews walnut bits all over everything. Cleaning it immediately to avoid staining gave the mixture time to cool. The solids look amazingly like coffee grounds and have that same grittiness. They went onto the compost pile. After separating the solids from the liquid, I was supposed to thicken with xantham gum. That isn’t something I keep in my larder, so I looked up a substitute. I do have flax seed meal, so I added that. Brought back to a simmer, used an immersion blender to whirl the flax seed meal, and had my canning equipment ready.
This made a fairly liquid product. Tastes similar to Worcestershire sauce, only better. I tried some on fried potatoes. This is an excellent condiment! I can detect the green walnut flavor, although Michael cannot. Then again, I worked with the nuts and reveled in their aroma.
Michael finally took me fishing. That is wild fire smoke making things hazy. We went earlier than usual, to beat the heat.
It must be a morning lake, since we nearly reached our bag limit!
That lady in the middle measures 9.5 inches! We also caught a number of yellow perch, a couple of crappies, a rock bass and a large mouth bass. 38 fish in less than 2 hours. We spent the afternoon cleaning them, ate fruit and yogurt for dinner, showered, and fell into bed.
We’ve harvested onions and garlic. The garlic crop suffered this year. We planted 56 cloves each of 4 varieties of garlic. For two types, we harvested about 28 cloves each. The other two produced 48 cloves each. It might be due to having planted early last year (we had a wedding in Boston to attend during the time we normally would have planted). Or it might be due to the lack of snow cover. We have noticed fewer potato beetles this year, and they overwinter in the ground as well.
I celebrated another turn around the sun, with lotsa love from near and far.
The primrose wave ciao to July.
The milkweed greet August with exuberance.
Broilers are unnatural birds, bred to produce meat in an efficient manner. They eat, drink water, poop, and grow. In nine weeks they can weigh nine pounds. They grow so quickly, they die from heart attacks or broken legs before they reach sexual maturity. A “heritage” chicken, if it is a large breed, might top out at 5 pounds after 20 weeks, at which point it is sexually mature. Broiler’s breeding and growth rates create certain problems, which is the topic of this post. For anyone who doesn’t wish to see photos of chickens being processed, stop reading here! I am providing some “buffer photos” to avoid any accidental viewing of anything resembling blood or a recently beheaded bird.
Down to the hard data. We bought 35 broiler cockerels (baby boy chicks), which arrived on May 6th. There were 36 in the box. The hatchery will sometimes add an extra in case a chick dies in transit. I’ve experienced this once in the eight years we’ve bought birds. The broiler chicks cost $2.50 each, for a total of $87.25.
They are so charming at this stage! But hungry. Unlike other chicks who aren’t immediately interested in eating (the nutrients in the yolk sac that sustained their growth in the shell usually lasts a day after hatching), these were furiously pecking at my fingers immediately.
We feed them “chick crumble”, which is a 22% protein feed, their entire life. We mix in some layer feed, which is 18% protein, when they are about a month old to keep their poop from becoming too runny, which tends to burn their butts. We probably sacrifice some growth, but they seem to do just dandy. We spent $122.85 total for crumble. We originally put the water jar in a cake pan so the chicks wouldn’t knock it over and thirst to death. It took two chicks drowning due to getting trapped between the rim of the cake pan and the waterer before we wised up and used a large plastic 5 gallon bucket lid to provide a stable, but non-lethal, platform for the water.
At three weeks old, we needed to use a larger feeder. We eventually graduated to two feeders to keep up with demand. We only feed during the daytime, and mostly outdoors. This helps keep their sleeping area freer from poop as well as discouraging the mice and rats. I would bring in the feeder at night to lure them into the coop. My heritage chickens made me chase them twice before learning to go into the coop on their own. The broilers went into the coop voluntarily on the last night before there were no more.
At one month old we began to lose broilers to unknown causes. We lost a total of 9: two to drowning and the rest to what I suspect was malformation of their digestive tracts. We might lose 2-3 in any one year due to getting trampled or cold or some other accident. This year we lost a lot of chicks. If it were the bird flu, we would have lost more. For comparison, we haven’t lost any of the 18 heritage chickens we incubated from our own eggs.
We began harvesting the broilers at about 5 weeks, and this one weighed in at 5 pounds, which is pretty normal.
But then there was one who weighed only 2.5 pounds, and as you can see, does not look normal. This guy’s crop was full to bursting with feed, but he was starving. When I examined his entrails, the section of gut between the crop and gizzards was hard, swollen, and almost entirely closed off. By the way, chickens have a “crop”, or sac, which is where the neck meets the breast. They store food there until it can make its way through the gizzard, which is full of grit that acts like teeth. From there, food goes through the intestines.
We started taking the ones that were visibly smaller than the others and found they, also, were suffering from gastric abnormalities. The one on the left was full of liquid. I sometimes find this condition when harvesting older hens whose innards are beginning to break down. Finding this condition in young birds probably explains the increased mortality of the chicks. We have noticed that cohorts will share certain problems, such as splayed legs, from year to year. We think this happens because the semen of a limited number of roosters are used to create the hybrid that is the broiler.
Even if they are short-lived birds, we try to give them the chance to be a chicken.
And then we kill them and eat them because that is part of raising broilers.
Seeing how leg skin looks like snake skin is something not everyone gets to do. Not everyone would want to. Personally, I like knowing my food on a very personal level. Many like to have their food processed so that it no longer bears any resemblance to an animal. Think chicken nuggets shaped like dinosaurs.
We ended up with 168 pounds of chicken bits. Most of that went to our children, whose freezers are now full. It cost us about $1.25 a pound to purchase the chicks and feed them until harvest. That does not include infrastructure, utilities, and equipment. It does not include labor. It does not include the pleasure of eating a chicken that tastes better than anything you can buy at Walmart, or even Whole Foods. Here’s to being an omnivore and eating dinosaurs that look like dinosaurs!
We have a very large black walnut tree growing between our garage and the clothes line. Michael trims it back to keep it in check and to protect the garage roof. Several days ago he lopped off a number of branches. They were laden with green nuts.
My assignment was to cut up the downed branches, haul the brush, and gather the usable firewood. When I saw how many green nuts were in those branches, I headed to the computer for recipes. (I did get the yard cleaned as well. I love my mini electric chain saw!)
I found two recipes that interested me. One was for nocino, an Italian liqueur made from steeping chopped green walnuts in alcohol. We have some Everclear, which we got at the beginning of the pandemic in case we could not get other disinfectants. Our hoarding sensibilities proved useless, but it turns out Everclear is fine for making nocino, as long as you cut it half and half with water. The other recipe, for walnut “ketchup”, left the walnuts hole and soaking in water prior to final preparation.
The recipes I found for nocino generally involved adding spices such as cloves and star anise, as well as lemon peel. The one I chose mentioned those, but warned that the spices could drown the nutty flavor. It suggested using some coffee beans and fragrant bedstraw (galium triflorum) or Angelica instead. I looked up the herbs, including their range and habitats, and took Zeke for a walk. I could not conclusively identify any Angelica, but I did find the fragrant bedstraw in a neighbor’s woods. And boy, is it fragrant! Apparently, it is used to make vanilla flavoring when true vanilla is not available.
My experiments are sitting on my kitchen floor. The whole nuts steep for a week before processing with vinegar and spices. The chopped nuts steep for a month before being strained and then aged for six months. In other words, I won’t know if my experiments are worth the effort for a while yet. Patience!
In the meantime, the potatoes and onions are getting ready for harvest. Potato salad must have been invented to take advantage of the convergence of these two garden wonders. It is our first year growing Yukon Gold. They taste richer, perhaps starchier, than reds or russets, frying up as well as the blues. They produce large, nicely shaped potatoes. We will grow them again.
We will feed potatoes and onions and walnut ketchup to these impressionable wee ones (and anyone else who may be interested).
The red currants turned jewel-like, perfect to pick and eat out of hand.
Instead of gorging myself, I gathered (with help!) about 25 cups of fruit. Cleaning red currants is best right after picking them, when they pop off their stems without smushing the berries.
Red currants have large, hard seeds. They make jelly, rather than jam. This means boiling the berries, mashing them, straining through cheesecloth, and pouring off the juice. I strained the juice twice, once through open cheesecloth and the second time through a cotton dish cloth.
I used a little more sugar than juice and a box of pectin. I have friends and family who make low-sugar jellies and jam. They tend to need to be refrigerated after opening to avoid getting moldy. Sugar is one means of preservation. Michael and I tend to forget to use jam left in the fridge, so I the make full-sugar varieties. We don’t eat many sugary foods (except the occasional pie), so I figure we can indulge our lack of memory with full-glory jelly.
We have been grazing on fresh peas. The garlic is almost ready to harvest.
We had berry-picking help this past weekend.
It helped me detox from several days in Minneapolis. I attended a fabulous continuing legal education series presented by the National Association of Criminal Defense Lawyers. But I can only take so much time in the city anymore. I need more green around me, more vegetables in my diet, and more physical work.
I like where the turtles feel welcome to wander by.