Springtime journal: on the day you were born, all the flowers decided to bloom

Today is my daughter Persephone's birthday.  

The forsythia afire.  

Happy Birthday Little Sweetheart!  Today we have sunshine and weather in the 70s. All the plants have been waiting, buds tight against the cold, but swelling with the lengthening days.  

Black currant greenery! 

A good day to turn dirt over in the garden, put batteries back in the riding mowers, plant some more fence posts for the new duck pasture...and celebrate growing things.  

June berry leaves barely peeping out.  

We can still have snow, but we celebrate with sun today.  

Fire journal: Houston, we have liftoff

A lovely-ish Sunday in spring called for some frivolity, so we took a break from fencing and fired some clay. First firing with the birthday barrel.  

Several weeks ago we made a batch of small clay things. 

Drying slowly in freezing temps.  Notice the darker color of the figure on the left in the back. That one was not dry enough yet. 

Then we made a small firing can (technical term is a "sagger", pronounced with a long a) out of a one gallon tin can fitted with a paint can lid. (Paint cans are made from plastic these days.)   I used a 3/8" drill bit to make the holes. 

I scavenged these from the hillside Clyde used for a dumping ground. Beautification on multiple levels.  

Then we started a fire in the bottom of the barrel, to make a layer of coals and to warm the bricks.  

Fire. A good time on a chill day.   We made the fire near an old brush pile-easy access to small, dry wood and more beautification by getting rid of the brush pile. 

Once there was a sustainable fire going, Michael loaded some of the drier looking pieces in the small can with holes inside the 5 gallon can without holes.  

Clay in place.  

We used the small can due to the delicate nature of the forms. If we were making stronger forms, such as thrown bowls, we could dispense with the 1 gallon bucket. We also don't mind serendipitous marks you get when the reducing agent touches the clay.  

Small can inside large can inside barrel.  

The next stage involved slowly building up the fire around the 5 gallon can to bring the clay up in temperature, slowly driving out any remaining moisture and altering the chemical composition of the clay (exorcising hydrogen bonds).  Michael then delicately placed the lid on the 5 gallon can (slightly singeing his arm hair), and we kept the fire to the top of the can for about 10 minutes. 

Nearing the end of the process.  

Once the can was well warmed (about 500° F--if the pots weren't in a sagger, you would see them begin to turn dark--) we filled the barrel with small, dry branches from the brush pile, which burned quick and HOT.

Whee! 

The finishing touch was to get something that would burn slowly and smokily around the pots. We happened to have the straw from our chicken coop at hand.  

Must be a better way to get the lid of the 5 gallon bucket off without removing it from the barrel.  We will figure it out for next time. 

And voila!  Clay things! 

Fresh out of the kiln. 

Total firing time from pots in the sagger to pots on the table was about one hour.  

Experimental oil lamps.  

Mr. Frog visiting his new neighbors.  

Planting journal: the starts are started

Hello. Remember how it snowed yesterday? It snowed again last night...a perfect time to begin dreaming of digging in the garden, and working toward making that dream a little more real.  

Peat pellets or coconut fiber pellets...they all work. 

When you have a short growing season, you start frost-sensitive plants indoors and then transplant after Memorial Day. I start by clearing out a space on my winter plant table!  Then I soak my starter pellets in water until they swell into little pots.  

Looking phat! 

The seeds come next. I put 2-3 in each pot, with malice towards extras afore thought. If you have extra space and abhor thinning, plant one seed per pot. I then cover my seeds with the dirt in the pots until they are covered to about 1/4". I use a pencil for this delicate operation. 

High tech equipment!  Not.  

As the plants grow, I'll raise the lights, and then will transplant into coffee cups filled with potting soil. Keeping the peat pots moist and warm will help germination. Light will encourage growth.  

I will probably find a way to raise the baking dish a little higher  

I'll update when I start to get sprouts.  

Season journal: April Fools!

We awoke to snow this morning. 

Mother Nature's little joke

It will be gone by later today, but it is a reminder as to why we are starting our tomatoes later this year. The frost is out of the ground and Michael has been digging post holes for the new duck playground.  

Where ducks can dig holes to their hearts content 

Spring isn't here quite yet, but she's on her way.  

Season journal: preparing for Oester

Marking the passage of time with ritual is important as a means of continuity as well as a good reason to celebrate. No baskets full of fake green grass, plastic eggs or chocolate bunnies in our household. Yet we have always colored eggs. We hid them when we had wee ones, but figure it doesn't make sense to hide them from ourselves...yet. We do color them!  (I even colored eggs when I was alone due to Michael staying with his parents when Clyde was first diagnosed with cancer.)  I like to think of it as a connection with my German grandmother, as Oester was a Germanic goddess of spring and fertility, and gave us oestrus as a fun word to know and use. It also gave us the word "Easter."  

Duck eggs! 

All of our chicken eggs are brown, so we have been saving duck eggs for Sunday.  The interesting thing was that the duck eggs took on a greenish hue naturally when we boiled them. We still dyed them anyway. 

More duck eggs! 

The beauty of dyed eggs is that we then get lovely colored deviled eggs for dinner. Because we REALLY like deviled eggs, we only get to have them once a year.  Look for my deviled egg recipe, to be posted soon.

Season journal:happy spring equinox!

In celebration of the season, we (meaning Michael) modified the chicken cabana to support nesting boxes, placed a new tarp over the armature, and hiked down straw, feed, waterers, etc. I got in on ferrying the chickens from their winter quarters to their summer pasture.  

Happy chickens! 

We may suffer from reduced egg production, since chickens need about 14 hours of light to produce regularly, but the ducks seem to be doing well enough (an egg per duck per day).  

The chicken cabana backed by idyllic fluffy clouds. 

We will seed the mud hole that the chicken and duck yard became and hope it will have recovered by the time the babies we are ordering are big enough to venture outdoors. 

This was two days ago.  Note the bare bird hut in the background. We may get more snow two days from now, but it won't stay long. 

The frogs serenaded us as we worked in the sun. Life doesn't get much better. 

Fire journal: let's get primitive

Michael was a master potter in a prior life. We are trying to rekindle his ceramic soul. It is a slow process, given our other obligations. But this is about progress, and so here is where we are to date: 

Notice the orange barrel

Michael had been looking for a 55 gallon metal drum for a while. I finally found one and gave it to him for his birthday two years ago. We hauled it from Maine to Wisconsin, where we found that our neighbor could cut off the top and bottom for us. The next challenge was to find 5 gallon metal buckets with lids. They magically appeared around the mastic we bought to coat the outside of our basement last summer. But they still had mastic stuck in them. The answer?  Fire! 

The barrel makes a nice chimney once perched on bricks.  

We built a fire out of small branches conveniently dried in a brush pile.  The rabbits didn't mind our commandeering part of their warren...much. 

The buckets went into the fire once we had a nice bed of coals.  

Viola!  Clean buckets.  

We bought 50# of clay. Now all we have to do is build some clay thingies!  Just happy to have (finally) the equipment to make (primitive) fire happen.  

Livestock journal: patos' patas in pasture!

"Pato" is Spanish for duck.  "Pata" is Spanish for animal feet. I love the way the patos wiggle their patas in the greening grass. 

Escapees from the mud pit of the winter coop.  

Transitioning the birds from their coop by the tractor shed cannot be instantaneous, as we have to replace the tarps on the duck hut and chicken shack. Michael also designed and built a tiny shed to hang the feeder, so feed stays dry when it rains.  

A mini Mansard roof design

Like our other pasture furniture, it is designed to drag. We plan to separate the ducks from the chickens this year, so Michael will have to build another one. I'm trying to convince him to try a pagoda design next. I'll let you know how that goes.  

Eggs in place

And the bonus info for the day: ducks tend to cover their eggs with straw. It's like an Easter egg hunt every day! 

Harvest Journal: free firewood-just add labor!

Feeding the fire is important, especially when the forecast may include snow well into May. I was driving into town with Irene recently and was stopped on the River Road by township guys who were busy felling road-ivorous foliage.  As I was waved through I stopped and inquired what they were going to do with all that conveniently downed timber. "Haul it off."  "Mind if I haul some off for you?" "Not as long as you keep it in Eureka Township."  "Sold!"  

So this is what Michael and I were doing for fun on a Sunday morning:

Wearing Paul Bunyon blue

We still can't get a loaded trailer up our muddy driveway (frost is almost gone, which means it should firm up within the next few weeks...Lord willing and it doesn't rain too much), so the wood will remain in the field for now. We managed to salvage at least a cord of wood (once it's split)...maybe more. The advantage to ditch wood is 1) you don't have to worry about dropping a tree on someone and 2) no brush pile left over!  So good to feel like you're performing a civic service and getting free stuff all at the same time. 

Friendship journal: lighting fires

We recently returned from my moonlighting job in DC via Alabama. Yes, it was quite the detour, but one with a purpose: to visit friends we made when we lived there 26 years ago. Lenora is 76 now, which means she was about 50 when she and Michael were in college together in Montgomery. She lives with her daughter, Melissa, who houses a fascinating breadth of knowledge on her own. Lenora had a list of "chores" for us during our visit, one of which was to build a "rocket stove."   

This is it: 

Operational rocket stove

Lenora had a stash of unused block, including an interesting U-shaped one that looked like 3/4 of a chimney to me, and what I found out today is called a bond beam block. The original plan called for 2 "H" blocks. However, they are mythical. Bond beam blocks work. 

End view showing chimney at work.  

A rocket stove allows a person to make a hot fire with small wood. It provides a place for a pot or pan. And it is far enough off the ground for us elderlier folks to avoid excessive stooping. So, as usual, we brought more away from this visit than we had before we arrived. So good to continue to learn with Lenora!

Moonlighting journal: extra employment as part of country life

Most of the people we know manage to live in the country by having a job in the city. We are no different, except that most of my paying work doesn't involve a commute...except when it does. I therefore write this entry from the road.  

At the US Supreme Court building shortly after arguing Voisine v US, No 14-10154

And what a winding road it has been. I started my career in the Federal Defender system nearly 25 years ago by writing a Supreme Court brief on a juvenile sentencing issue. (We won.).  I like to think that I influenced the course of the sentencing of so-called "Armed Career Criminals" by writing a petition to the Supreme Court challenging the law on due process grounds in 2005.  It was probably coincidental that the Court started taking cases in an effort to establish a workable standard to determine what kind of prior conviction qualifies. It took the Court 9 years and a long series of cases to decide that part of the statute was unconstitutionally vague.  A former colleague of mine in Minnesota won that case. 

So my latest foray into the breach may not turn out so well. The problem is that my clients have been labeled "domestic abusers" even if that moniker may not fit what they actually did. Or rather, the problem is that we can never really know what they actually did because our misdemeanor court system is such a conviction mill. We sweep too many people into the criminal system and then, because they are now "criminals," no one has any sympathy for the proposition that they are not intrinsically bad people. So then we, collectively, feel justified in restricting rights to those "bad" people. 

Me and my parents at the Supreme Court

What I learned from both my parents is that there are very few "bad" people. There are all of us, and we all have strengths and weaknesses. If you keep yourself distanced from people and their problems, you have no ability to understand what the problems are or how they may be overcome. If you do not believe problems can be overcome, they never will be. If you do not expect people to be able to overcome problems, they never will. So my father, who began his career by picking cotton in west Texas at the age of 5, and who is the last of his generation still alive, bore witness to to the fact that I was continuing his fight for social justice. My mother, who can look at a pile of junk and can pull beauty from chaos, was there to witness my efforts to mirror her ability to work minor miracles. (This WAS the case in which Justice Thomas broke a 10 year silence to highlight the civil rights implications of a ruling against my clients). 

No, this case will not make my fortune and allow me not to moonlight. Yes, we will have to continue to balance working on making our 40 acres a subsistence farm with caring for those who cared for us. But it is all good work, whether for golden apples of the sun or silver apples of the moon.  

Snow journal: this IS Wisconsin in winter

February 3 and new snow on the ground. Just in time to make our trip into St. Paul (taking Irene to the airport) particularly exciting. Michael awoke at 1:30 am to start shoveling, and I wasn't far behind.  The light was delayed 2 hours, so we got some sleep!  

Singing blessings on Harriette

Yesterday we helped Aunt Harriette celebrate 97 years of good living. It started snowing while we were partying, which I found particularly appropriate. I believe Harriette is as vibrant as she is due to shoveling her own walks well into her 90s. 

Driving by woods on a snowy afternoon  

I was too busy to take snow pictures this morning, but I do have some from a month ago:

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Shallow thrust faulting

More shallow thrust faulting

The fun thing about spending time with a geologist is that you stop worrying about a lot of things (we are less than a blink on a geologic time frame), and more thoroughly enjoy simple things...like recognizing landscapes from California in the snow piling up in front of my shovel and learning the name for it. And maybe, just maybe, we will live as well as Aunt Harriette. 

Fiber journal: from concept to comfort

This blog began with the observation that I love designing clothes. However, being a lawyer doesn't allow much time to design and create garments. Neither does being in the construction trade. I had a window of opportunity last winter to indulge myself.  

Last winter I began thinking of my brother Chris, whose birthday is in February. He lived near Seattle, which can be chilly but not cold. So I figured he might use a vest, but not something warmer. This is the design I imagined he would like:

Michael donated the notebook.  

The next stage was to spin the yarn, which for this project was a Coopsworth fleece "spun in the grease"--meaning a fleece that had not been washed (but was wonderfully clean due to putting a coat on the sheep).  I also had the fortune to be invited to a dye seminar by my friend Valerie. This was the result:

Michael, who served as my mannequin, from the back.  

My brother loved it! 

Chris in his vest

I showed my sister Angela the photos while visiting with her in March, 2015, and she mentioned she could use a vest for fancy events she attends as a musician's manager. I confess, I had been thinking of her. So I ran this design past her: 

I love the notebook. I do keep notes on my phone, but I've accidentally deleted enotes before.  

So this vest took me 9 months to complete, having a house and a garden and a tractor shed and a Supreme Court brief in between.  The notes record measurements of swatches I knit so that I could fit the garment to my sister. 

Daughter and niece artwork in the background.  

Scarf compliments of my brother Juanelo. Fiber mania may run in the family.  

Of course, I consulted with her on colors. I happened to have two lovely fleeces in a light and dark gray.  

Border leister fleece. The other was a Coopsworth-Border Leister cross.  

Unlike an alpaca, I washed these fleeces first. Then I opened the locks.  

Opening locks means gently pulling them apart.  

After the locks are opened, I use my carder for coarser wool.  

Ensuring the locks all face the same way while carding and spinning makes a shinier product, known as spinning worsted.  

This time, I lengthened the batts into long thin roving, to maintain the directionality of the fibers. 

To keep lengthened batts in order, I wind them into balls.  

From batt to ball to skein.  

Border Leister single.  

Back to ball to knit to finish (weave in ends, sew in buttons) to block to wear!

Voila.  

Fiber journal: mittens!

Part of the idea of having a farm is being able to raise fiber animals and plants to feed my addiction. We aren't there yet, and so I have accumulated a number a of fleeces (purchased and received as gifts) to tide me over.  

An alpaca fleece from a friend of my sister Mariluz

This is what alpaca last looks like straight off the animal. The dirt and weeds don't show, but they are there!  I have washed alpaca fleece and then worked with it, but we now lack space to do that, so I worked with it as is.  

The lovely carding machine Michael bought for me. It has finer teeth than my other carder, for finer fleece.  

I usually put the fleece through two to three times. Not only does this take the tangles out, it removes short bits (slubs) and some of the weeds too.  

Batts from the carder, rolled up for storage. 

Different fibers have their preferences on how they feed. For the alpaca, I unrolled the batts, pulled off a hank and spun off the fold 

This wheel folds up for easy storage.  

Once I had a single spun, I then Navajo-plied it, resulting in a 3-ply yarn.  

Washed, dried and twisted into a skein.  

I then repeated the carding process with a cleaned Merino fleece I purchased a while ago. I did not spin the Merino, but pulled it into small lengths called "thrums". The knitting part took a couple of days. The mittens are made by adding a thrum in a regular pattern, fluffy ends toward the inside.  I used Merino because it is soft, felts well, and has residual lanolin to treat hands well in cold weather. The felted inside stops wind, which makes these mittens extra toasty. 

A happy birthday girl!   

I even got them done in time for the party AND the cold weather. Mischief managed.  

Walking journal: we are not alone

New Year's Day dawned bright and clear and cold. Perfect for taking a walk to the river.  

Thistle and hoar frost  

The river has been in flood stage, even if it is frozen. The level has dropped, leaving bathtub rings on the trees. 

Nevers Landing, St. Croix River

The snow left a record of a deer's less than graceful attempt to grab a New Year's Eve drink. 

Swan Lake it wasn't 

Seeing the deer tracks made me notice other prints. The mice had been out and about. 

Teeny tracks.  Mice often tunnel under the snow, like sand worms

Squirrels tiny paws are hard to catch with my cell phone camera, but the pattern is all squirrel.  

Squirrels sprong along

Rabbits make more of a V style print.  

Our yard is a bunny haven.  

The neighbor's kitty had been prowling on our side of the road.  

Cat and human tracks

It may have been slinking after the pheasant that like to cross the road here.  There are woods on both side of the road. 

Too small for turkey, too large for chickadees

We did see a number of birds on the wing, including a pileated woodpecker, snow buntings, and a bald eagle. No photos of the actual animals this time, just their feet in place. 

Weather and energy journal: Christmas Snow

We finally have snow that stuck. It started on December 23rd, warmed, cooled, and then fell steadily last night. Boxing Day thus finds us shoveling the dust. 

Door yard done! 

The worst part of having late rain, besides interminable mud, are irreparable ruts. Luckily (or craftily on my part) Michael dealt with the bumps while I cleared a path for Irene. Now we just have the easy stretch to finish. 

600 feet of driveway  

Which brings me to muse upon the relationship between capital and energy. In order to use our 1949 tractor to push snow for us, we would have to invest in a set of chains. Yet we haven't made that purchase because 1) limited funds and 2) limiting fun. Snow shoveling gets us outside and moving, burning some of the extra calories of Christmas feasts. It also allows time to examine the tracks left by rabbits, mice, squirrels, fox, and other neighbors.  

Nothing eats the American high bush cranberries.  

Aunt Harriette, who will celebrate 97 years come February, shoveled snow until she was 90.  

The matriarch still gets around under her own steam.  

Using a internal combustion engine device to move snow allows one person to do the work of two in a fraction of the time. Yet if time is no object, then using an internal combustion engine device may rob one of years of healthy living. It is good to have a shoveling partner, but I have shoveled snow by myself when Michael would travel in the winter. It is still one of my favorite winter sports. So happy Boxing Day, and may some snow (or its moral equivalent) fall for you.  

Wildlife journal: secret Santa unveiled

We brought the plants in from the great outdoors about a month ago. Someone once asked me what I do when I bring them in. I was so confused, until she mentioned "pests."  This is a farm. Outside comes in all the time, and then has to be swept up and redeposited where it belongs. Well, we've been doing a little picking up before guests come for the holidays and accidentally revealed our Secret Santa: 

Nope, not a blob of putty, as first suspected

We cannot redeposit out little buddy outside at this point in the weather cycle. Just hope there are sufficient lady bugs and flies to keep him jolly.  

Livestock journal: winter birds and sunlight (or lack thereof)

We started the tractor barn and chicken shed in May, knowing that December would come to Wisconsin. And so it has. It being the shortest day of the year, it seems appropriate to show our efforts to keep the birds happy and productive even in these dark days 

Automatic timer keeps us from staying up late

We will run permanent electricity to the tractor shed once we have rewired the house and addition. In the meantime, extension cords serve. The timer gives us 6 hours of light inside the coop after sunset. The chickens started to lay when they were in their pasture, but then stopped when the day length fell below 12 hours. 

Not exactly a sun lamp, but it does the trick

There are two nesting boxes for the chickens, one for the ducks.  

Roosts for the rest  

Chickens only use the boxes to lay eggs, but not to sleep. For that, they use the roosts.  

The ducks have their own quarters  

The birds have a place to go out most days and come in at night. Feeders are not a problem, but the water freezes. That is, until Michael ordered fish tank heaters. Now the water still flows as needed. 

Alas, no fish. 

For food, water, light, and shelter, they give us 10-12 eggs every day.  

The duck eggs almost don't fit the egg tray

Duck eggs taste like chicken eggs, only richer. Both are much more yellow than commercial eggs. I love my ducks!

Weather journal: December 8 and it is raining!

This has been one of those unusual weather years. Wet wet wet through the fall, and warm well into winter.  

Michael sunbathing with the chickens

"Warm" is a relative term. We haven't been running around in shorts, but the ground hasn't frozen and we still don't have a furnace in the new addition. Just as well since I've been MIA, stolen away frm normal existence to do battle with dragons (or their moral equivalent).

Michael has been diligently moving our belongings fr the garage into the new basement. A certain amount has been invaded by mice and squirrels.  This a blessing of nature in weeding out the unimportant by making those decisions suddenly quite easy!  

We have a Christmas tree up as of St. Nicholas Day (December 6th). Our girls sent gift boxes to mark the beginning of the season. (We sent them home grown potatoes, amongst other goodies). The tiny toys are the best. 

Among all the news of violence throughout the nation and the world, it is good to have a little silliness come settle on the doorstep (or the kitchen table). 

Harvest journal: dear deer

Saturday opened with gunshots echoing through the woods. We had no corn planted on our land this year. Standing water also changed the geography. This, in turn, altered deer migration patterns. Rather than moving in the morning, no deer showed until early afternoon. Then there were four less to wander the woods.  

Three of the four shot on Saturday. None on Sunday nor today.  

Persephone volunteered to learn how to butcher a deer. Michael is talking her through taking off the hide.  

Nice to have weather just above freezing.  

My job usually involves taking big meat and turning it into cookable portions.  

Separating lean from fat

We will probably have about 130 pounds of boneless venison by the time we are done....or at least that was what our 3 deer from last year rendered. We have a few pounds of venison burger left over, but 3 deer seem to be what 3 people can eat in a year. 

   Dear fat keeps us in soap. The rendered tallow deer needs to be mixed with olive oil so the soap is not too hard. Olive oil alone makes a bar that is too soft. Together, they are lovely.  

   The hides we donate to the Lions Club. They sponsor a summer camp with the proceeds. Some other year we will see if we can learn the fine art of tanning hides...but not this year. 

Our girls used to take these parts and make hoof prints in the snow.  

   The bones we burn on a pyre in the middle of our garden space. It adds calcium to the soil, destroys weed seed, and gives us a good excuse to have a bonfire.