Season journal: springtime in the era of corona virus

As infection numbers and deaths mount across this country, life continues mostly unchanged for us in the Big Woods.

Our first chick hatched today. She is cute. She is cuddly. I shall call her onyx. Or maybe just “ox,” as she has some lungs on her. She wants company!!! No social distancing for this one.

Normally I would be off to see my mom this time of year. I will delay the visit in order not to become a vector for the dread disease. It is a small change compared to the complications so many others face.

In need of some excitement, we decided it was time to fell the dying cottonwood. Michael ran the chainsaw. I ran the Suburban.

Timber! It didn’t hit the house or the power lines. It did land on a trailer, but with the part that was dead rather than deadly.

Michael gave his new chainsaw a workout as we needed to clear the driveway so Irene would not feel trapped. Nine days ago she still felt safe enough to be out and about.

Cleared!

We celebrated with a beer and a burger at the Wolf Creek bar. Two days later the governor closed all restaurants.

March 14th wasn’t the last time we went out, but it was the last time we did so recreationally.

We enjoy the view but miss having our daughter and her boyfriend over for Sunday dinners.

Not that we lack for things to do.

We work from home every single day. What I am learning is that we are not as socially distant as I always imagined. Farming requires a certain focus on the future. You hatch chicks and plant seeds, knowing the fruit of your labor will ripen later on. We exchange bread with neighbors, mail seeds to gardening buddies, send home made soap to heal cracked skin. Springtime is here, come corona virus or high water.

Fiber journal: hats, I love hats

This past November I started thinking about Christmas presents. I haven’t had time or space to spin any of my own yarn, so I tried to design a hat that would block wind. Most knit caps fail this test. My “fake beard,” made from a blend of alpaca and silk, passes…but as previously stated, I wasn’t going to both spin and knit in a timely manner. So I dove into the stash and came up with sock yarn.

I received this skein as a present to make socks. Turns out it is too delicate for the abuse of sock wear, so it got relegated to the stash. The speckles are alpaca fleece.

The fleece pieces were hooked over the yarn on the reverse side. The hat started to look like a caterpillar after a while.

It turned out to fit an adult head, while I intended it for a toddler. This is the danger of making things without a pattern. Note to self: making patterns isn’t easy!

The hat doubles as a wig…for a good time. It is very warm and does keep the wind off of ears, but the fleece tends to wander out to wave hello if one isn’t careful to tuck it in.

Another wig hat! The one on the left was my second effort…which was infant, not toddler sized. Oops.

As my idea of pairing fleece with hats was less than ideal (Michael begs to differ, as he loves his wig hat), I reverted to following someone else’s patterns. I had more hat people, more yarn inappropriate for socks, and more need for evening relaxation.

I made the gold colored hats first, ran out of those colors, so made the next hat with gold stripes. I think I like the striped version best.

My son in law found a new way to model his hat.

The Grand Girl fell in love with her hat. She wears it everywhere.

Rumors that I had a need to make hats spread, and I received a request for a hat to be worn in Alabama, a place not known for cold weather.

I made this beret with the leftovers from my prior hat efforts.

My Alabama recipient was thrilled with her hat, but complained that her daughter was equally thrilled, which meant that blood might be spilled. I didn’t wish to be the source of familial strife, so….

This one went out in the mail today. The original pattern didn’t have any bobbles on the top, but I couldn’t resist adding some extra little flourish.

I have a pair of socks I need to finish now that I have hats out of my system…at least for the time being. I long to be spinning my own yarn again. I hope to have space…soonish.

Happiness journal: 35 years with the same sweetheart

Last Monday Michael and I celebrated 33 years of marriage and 35 years of being in love by taking a walk around our realm.

We invited Zeke along for the walkie.

The technical reason for the survey: to identify dead and/or downed trees to add to our wood pile for next year. The downed ones are easy to spot anytime, but the standing dead are trickier to pick out once the snow melts.

The squirrels, chipmunks and raccoons love the dead and hollow, leaving obvious clues as to harvest ready zombie trees.

We marked trees with yellow hazard tape for later, but mostly enjoyed the trek. The deer have been bedding in the woods below the fields, close to food but open enough to spot/smell predators in good time. The coyotes sing to us morning, noon and night.

We used the deer highways to wend through the prickly ash.

One sign of spring: the deer are beginning to shed their winter coats.

Another reason the deer were bedding down here: they have a watering hole.

We didn’t see many birds or beasts on our walk, but they are there nevertheless.

Turkeys leave prints almost as large as mine.

We will need to guard our baby chicks and ducklings from these raccoons later this spring.

We close our coops every night to discourage livestock loss to this bobcat.

We keep getting older which allows us to continue building this life together. We hope for another 30 years of joint ventures, but are mindful of celebrating each day as it comes. Our partnership helps us not only be happy together, it builds outwards and lets us spread the joy.

Construction journal: the ups and downs of drywall

January seems to be our favorite time to drywall. Two years ago we were finishing the new bathroom. This year we are finishing the rest of the new walls in the addition. We have been dragging our feet a bit due to having to solve some thorny problems.

Notice the wall switches and then look above the switches and see the narrow space between the wall studs where those switches are located. The lack of space precluded hammering in new construction boxes. This meant that Michael had to cut the holes for the boxes, pull the switch wires through, wire the switches and install after construction boxes. The tricky part was keeping the multiple wires sorted out.

This is the door leading to the deck. The discoloration is due to water seepage. The door leaked until we put the flashing below the threshold, protecting the sill plate from backsplash. Drywall needs to stay dry! So does flooring. No new leaks…yay!

This is more recent water seepage. Michael noticed the wet floor after the corner had been done. Yikes! Where was the water coming from?!?

We put rubber stick on flashing under this corner when we installed the siding, as there was a slight gap between the new wall and the old house. The flexible flashing extended only down to the plate as it wouldn’t stick to the cement. Two days ago we slipped a piece of aluminum flashing under the metal siding and extended it well below the plate. You can see that the valley on the roof drains and splashes in this corner. So far it appears the additional flashing has cured the problem.

The inside corner where the new construction meets the old house has presented other challenges. The corner molding came off when the roof rafters went up. This left a quarter inch differential between the remaining siding and the corner that needed patching. Luckily we had some quarter inch plywood scraps from when I made Irene’s cabinet drawers. The wall wasn’t plumb either. We patched and made the wall solid and plumb! We will address the old construction walls after we have cut new doorways and have taken out old doorways and windows.

I spent today patching around outlets. The outlet covers won’t hide the holes. Michael leaves these piddly projects for me.

This panoramic is taken from the doorway leading to the old house. I have to shuffle large items around in this space to tape the ceiling.

Michael completed the west wall today. You can see that he made me at least one challenge by putting up the drywall vertically, and then filled in at the top horizontally, making for a really long tapered joint morphing into a butt joint. Professional drywall artists put the tapered joints horizontally and stagger the butt joints so that they are less noticeable. I’ll keep you posted on my efforts to smooth over these rough patches.

I am a very slow taper. I get through about one hod of mud before I’m tired. Part of my slowness comes from having to inspect all the screws to ensure they are below surface level. This means moving and climbing my ladder along an entire seam before mudding it, which also explains why I get so tired for so little visible progress. It will get done, and it will look better than the part of the house created by “professionals.” It just takes time, patience, and a lot of work!

Weather journal: sparkle

The snow started early this year. We have had regular snow, some periods of below zero temperatures, and some balmy days. Yesterday we had one of our more spectacular storms.

Walking in the weather. All the more fun shared with Zeke and his love of sealing through drifts.

This meant Michael and I spent the majority of our day shoveling.

Clearing the dooryard is the most tedious part of the job.

Nice action shot!

600 feet of driveway cleared. Yayayayay!

This was pre-storm. You can see the snow coming in. You can also see that the corn is still standing. The deer and pheasants are making good use of what corn there is. I fear the farmer who rents our land is on hard financial times. Late springs and early winters make for a short growing season.

Irene would love to escape the snow as it represents just another barrier for her. Michael and I are both sore all over, but we wanted to make sure Irene will be able to make her weekly trek to Sunday morning breakfast tomorrow. She leaves by 6 am. I think she has only missed going to Sunday breakfast once since we’ve been here.

The squirrels were up early for breakfast too.

It is lovely to shovel the driveway by hand. It allows you to be warm while enjoying the shooshing rhythm of scootching snow around. Having the time and resources to enjoy the weather rather than to battle it is luxurious indeed. Sparkle!

Happiness journal: holidays come and gone

I come from a strong Catholic background. Michael comes from a strong secular humanist background. We are both appalled by the consumerism that drives much of December (and so many other seasons). Early in our marriage we came to an agreement on winter celebrations.

Advent is a means of marking time before Christmas. We start lighting a candle 4 Sundays before Christmas and add one lighted candle every Sunday. We join hands before dinner and sing “O Come O Come Emanuel.” It helps lighten an otherwise dark time of year.

Yes, those are beer bottles I’m using as candle sticks. I find it easier to move them about, as our dining room table also is project-central in our household.

We cannot cut a tree before December 6, which is St. Nicholas Day. Since our favorite tree cutting helper usually doesn’t arrive before December 20th or so, our tree goes up late in the season. We still mark December 6th with small gifts of food and clothing.

Having a child to help decorate is worth the wait.

The Grand Girl and her dad were cookie cutting machines!

We make two types of cookies: gingerbread (Michael prefers them un frosted) and biscochitos (a Mexican anise seed cookie topped with cinnamon sugar).

Michael added pies and bread to the bakery bounty.

Christmas is a birthday party, so we also made a cheesecake.

We managed to squeeze 11 into the dining room. Someday I hope to build a modular table that will seat 12 comfortably, but can be broken down for everyday use. Oh wait, we’ll always be using the dining room table for projects. Just talked myself out of modular!

The Grand Girl is taking over Auntie Sister’s job of distributing presents.

The Grand Girl and I made my Christmas cards on the Third Day of Christmas. Another wonderful Catholic tradition is celebrating the full 12 days, and then having the Feast of the 3 Kings as the close of the season.

We got to take walks in the snow.

We fed the hens treats.

We celebrated New Years with noisemakers.

Followed by reading our favorite stories before bed.

Our house feels empty without children filling it to the brim. Michael and I took a few days to clean and then we put away the tree on January 6th. Now we are back in construction mode. It is good to work on making a space for that table I want to build.

Harvest journal: the fruits of our labor

Christmas is coming and the cider’s coming due, please raise a glass for the New Year too.

Not bubbly, but very drinkable.

The rhubarb wine is still a bit cloudy. Needs more time.

We still have one carboy of cider to bottle. We decided to bottle one of our two carboys due to some type of intrusion that was forming a film on top. It convinced us that we really do need the proper stopper for the carboy. A friend lent us the carboy but it came without a handle or stopper. We tried using plastic wrap. Not a successful substitute.

Bottling rhubarb wine. From the bit we sampled, it has a high alcohol content. Because Michael didn’t get a specific gravity reading when he added the yeast, we couldn’t measure the end product’s alcohol reading.

Someone recently asked why there is no good homemade wine. Part of the problem is due to inexperience. Another part is correct equipment. A third factor is space with good temperature and humidity controls. And then there is the aging and storage factor. Even so, our foray into fermentation seems worthwhile.

Michael isn’t into presentation, so reusing bottles it is. We will see if they seal well enough. All equipment and bottles are sanitized beforehand.

The cider also wasn’t measured when the yeast went in. Even so, we can tell that it has a relatively low alcohol content. The difference comes from the amount of sugar the yeast had to work with. We added no sugar to the apple juice, which was tart, meaning it didn’t have a high natural sugar content. Not much sugar means not much alcohol. It still makes a nice, tart, cider. Michael added about 10 pounds of sugar to five pounds of rhubarb. It is not only very alcoholic but is rather raw. It will get better as it ages, which allows sugars and acids to balance. Michael added tannin to the rhubarb, which will soften over time. It has a wonderfully definite rhubarb flavor.
I can tell that I need to engineer a means of storing odd-sized bottles so we begin to solve at least one of the homemade wine challenges. Then we can keep track of bottling dates, sipping our way into enlightenment as to the time (and other factors) needed to achieve that elusive goal of good homemade wine.

Harvest journal: the deer are tiny this year

The deer harvest is down by about 40% around here. Part of it is the standing corn.

Food and cover all in one! The deer love it. Squirrels, jays, turkeys and crows are pleased as well.

The other factor is the lateness of the season. The rut was mostly done, which means the deer weren’t moving around as much. We usually are done the first weekend of the 10 day hunt. This year we hunted all 10 days, and then the additional 4 days of the “holiday hunt.” There will be an additional six days right after Christmas. I don’t know that we can spare the time to devote to sitting in the cold for hours on end. Our freezer isn’t exactly empty, given our earlier duck and chicken harvest.

The final product from one deer.

The deer have been very tiny as well. We harvested three deer off our land. We have almost 60 pounds of venison in the freezer. Last year we harvested two deer and had almost 90 pounds of venison. There are plenty of deer around, but last year was a hard year. The snow was deep and lasted well into springtime. The late spring meant a later planting time, reducing forage during birthing time. We have had early and plentiful snow this fall. None of our deer were very fat. Even though the corn is still standing, the cobs are short and few and far between. It is a lean year for both the deer and the farmers around here.

Life and death journal: reflections on my brother John

My younger brother died of a massive heart attack on November 11, 2019. He was 55. He left two beautiful daughters before they graduated from college. He never got to hold a grandchild. He never got to visit my farm (a trip planned for this coming June).
Perhaps he lived faster than I did. He was about two years younger than me but started talking before I did. Where I was always painfully shy, he was outgoing and knew everyone in the neighborhood. His exuberance could be overwhelming at times, but also uplifting.

We both love watching birds.

As we come from a large family and live far apart, we don’t often get together. John managed to gather most of us in one place this November.

My brothers, mom and younger sister got together to move him out of his house, a project his daughters didn’t need to deal with on their own…during midterms no less. Sifting through his possessions was a great way to touch his life and process his death.

Aunt Harriette lived to be 98 and prepared well for death. She gave away almost all her possessions well before she died. John prepared not at all. It took almost five days to clear out his house, having his girls take what they wanted, donating what we could, and letting neighbors sift through what was left. I look around my own home and hope that if I die suddenly, those who clean up after me simply have a very large bonfire. Or maybe spread all my unused fleeces and the piles of books in the gardens, where they can gently melt into the soil.
That is, unless someone wants to spin those fleeces or read those books. Please eat the elderberry jelly. It’s wicked good.
I did get some router bits from John, as no one else wanted them and they have no great resale value. I will think of my brother when I am using them to make furniture or cabinets. I can already feel him getting antsy, fearing I will make mistakes he could have prevented, given he would always do impeccable research before starting any project. I’m more of a “learn as you go” kind of girl. He had better equipment than me. I have used my tools more than him. We both love making things with our hands.

He always lived where it was warm. We were both born in a desert. I’m convinced that living where it snows is good for the body and soul. I couldn’t convince him to try it. Now it’s too late.

I share many of the same traits as my brother, but also am a very different person. I wish I could have conferred on him some of the beauty and peace I and Michael work hard to achieve on our farm. I will spread some of his ashes when I plant tomatoes in the springtime. In that way, he will become part of this land and will nourish us with his life and his death.

Harvest journal: we still have apples

Apples. Lots of apples. What to do with apples? After using buckets and buckets for cider, storing some whole for fresh pies when we have visitors, we still have apples. What we discovered was in short supply was apple butter. We now have that too.

Gently mounds and doesn’t run. Not too jellied. Perfect.

Apple butter starts easy: just quarter apples and toss them in a pot with not quite enough water to cover them.

I cheated and added the peels and cores from a batch of apples I put in the dehydrator.

Once dried, these will either be snacks or will go into sausages.

Cooked until reduced by half. There still is too much juice here. We passed the juice through cheese cloth, boiled it a bit more, then canned it. Apples are rich in pectin. This cooked juice will go into next year’s jellies.

I spent a couple of hours putting the cooked apples through a food mill. I set up my laptop and watched a movie while going through the mechanics of separating the pulp from pips and peels.

I ended up with about 20 cups of pulp.

The used parts went to the chickens and ducks…they loved them!

To 10 cups of pulp I added about 2 1/2 cups white sugar, 1 cup brown sugar, a tablespoon of cinnamon, a half teaspoon cloves, a quarter teaspoon allspice and an eighth teaspoon cardamom. The spices mix into the pulp better if the spices are first mixed with the sugar. A splash of vinegar adds bite. The pulp/sugar mix then gets gently boiled until it “plops,” getting apple butter all over your stovetop. This takes about 4 hours. 20 cups of pulp made a little more than 8 pints of apple butter.

Michael would have felt neglected if I chopped all those apples and there was no pie at the end of the process.

I emptied one bucket. That last bucket may need to go out to the compost heap…it’s time to work on some construction projects for a change!

We need to get the wallboard in the addition up and taped before the Grand Girl arrives in December.

Harvest journal: Day of the Dead

Irene dresses for Halloween as she goes forth into the world and is social. The rest of us have no cause for costumes. As Halloween always has been one of my favorite holidays, I’ve been trying to figure out how to resurrect a ritual. It took Uncle Ron going the way of the dinosaurs to kick me into gear.

Ron the Irreverent became godfather to our eldest daughter.

Holidays are our means of marking time and remembrance. This year we added a hajj to our local dearly departed on November 1, which is All Hallow’s Day. We started preparations yesterday (All Hallow’s Eve), by gathering offerings. The idea is to eat and drink with friends and family one more time. Our locally planted loved ones liked cookies, so that is where I began.

Black walnuts from our back yard. Who knew they are better dried in the shell for two or three years than fresh off the tree?

Michael magically retrieved a hunk of steel from his stash, which is perfect for cracking those hard shells. I remember my grandpa sitting and picking black walnuts from their shells. I don’t remember how he cracked them. Never inside, as my grandma would not have appreciated walnut shells all over her floors. I snuck a few as I cracked them and instantly flew back to my grandma’s kitchen, snitching a bit of brown sugar fudge.

We sat and ate chocolate chip and oatmeal walnut cookies with Bucka at the Northern Wisconsin Veteran’s Memorial. I feel his presence more here at The Land. He put his mark on this place more than any headstone could mark him.

Klink and Harriette were partial to cookies too, but reveled in the naughtiness of drinking wine. Harriette would have been mortified by drinking in public. Klink had a second glass.

We brought camp chairs and made a picnic. We went to the Kozy Kafe in Grantsburg afterward for something warm, and because it was their favorite hang out. I had a burger in memory of my dad.

Our last stop was at the Cushing Cemetery to bring Ralph and Nonie some Manhattans and a few cookies. We hope to park ourselves not far from them when our time comes.

Now that we are back home warming by the fire, we will raise a beer to Uncle Ron and make some popcorn dressed with Parmesan cheese.

I hope some day this one will come and pour a libation on our graves.

Construction journal: metal on the Duck Mansion and other delayed maintenance

The snow from October 12th melted away and we were gifted several days of 50° weather. Maybe 4. We used them to get started on putting metal on the Duck Mansion. We finished today, working in 32° for a good time.

We started on the East Side, as it had the fewest cuts and shows from the road. The South Side was the trickiest, given the two windows and a door. We will put metal on the doors and drop-down window some other year.

The colors don’t match on all the sides as we used some metal we bought for the house but then didn’t use as our color scheme has changed. Just as well as we learned you have to buy enough metal to finish a project as dye lots change over time.

The North Side doesn’t show from the road. We cannibalized metal left over from the roof of the Mansion as well as some pieces they gave us to protect metal to finish this side. Michael fell in love with the Munchkin Blue and now is threatening to side our next project all in blue. Ee. We are counting on some of that driving rain to clean the metal for us.

We delayed putting metal on a little too long, as the plywood began delaminating. This has been the wettest year since 1968.

We also finished the entryway platforms for Irene and the door into the addition. We hadn’t been using the addition door (someday to be the living room door) as 18” is more of a step than my knees like. We had fixed Irene’s particle board steps a number of times as they also succumbed to too much rain and snow.

The platforms are made from 2x6s rather than particle board. Hopefully they will last until we have the wear withal to put in cement walkways.

The chicken coop still needs metal, but it isn’t going to get it this year as it isn’t falling apart yet. The garden may not get turned over this fall. We are hoping to be gifted at least one more day with temps above freezing as we have 5 drakes who need to go to Freezer Camp. They will be roasting ducks, but are still growing out their pin feathers. We got them late as we had our last snow on May 19th and couldn’t rotate the adults down on pasture as soon as usual. We needed their space for the babies, which put everything behind. Now we are fighting cold on this end.
Weather is always a moving target for farmers…even for those of us who practice unsustainable farming!

Season journal: “Eat. Food.”

That is the Grand Girl’s mantra every morning. Seems to be the theme of this blog. Good rule to live by.
Our last snow was May 19. First snow is on October 12. This gave us about 5 months for spring, summer and fall. The snow came early this year, but it did not catch us unaware.

End of September and we picked all the ripe tomatoes and harvested the cabbages.

Cabbage, apples and onions made a wonderful base for kielbasa. The pickles remain crisp. I have been eating fresh tomatoes with every meal.

A dozen quarts of tomatoes will keep us in spaghetti sauce all winter.

We cleared out the garden four days ago. Fried green tomatoes are one of Irene’s favorites.

We love our ducks, but we can only keep so many in their winter quarters. They will not go to waste as we plan on making sausages from the old hens, keeping the new drakes for roasting. I hope to have sufficient down for a Grand Girl blanket by the time I have space to set up the sewing machine Michael inherited from his grandfather. Michael recently read an article saying Americans eat about 220 pounds of meat annually. I checked our harvest records and we eat less than half the average…and we eat a lot of meat!

We lucked into a sulphur shelf when we went for compost for the garlic garden. Perhaps we eat more mushrooms than average?

The mushrooms dried marvelously, along with parsley and thyme snipped two days ago.

Garlic safely tucked in for the winter. The raised bed gardens will have to wait until next year.

We have been treating the Blue Hubbards like foundlings and leaving them on doorsteps.

We have to enjoy fall colors while they last.

Even though we squeezed tons of apples, we have tons left. We will dry them. We will eat them raw. We will make apple butter.

And we shall eat pie. No wonder I can’t seem to lose weight!

Snow. Not the accumulations or blizzards hitting Montana and North Dakota, but snow nevertheless.

We still have any number of items on our winter preparation list. We may have highs in the 40s and some sunshine next week, but the wood bin is inside and hauling wood is a daily chore. We have started lifting weights again, despite the rush to beat the snow. It feels good and hopefully will allow us to take up the race with grace when spring rolls around.

Grandmother journal: becoming Booma

Michael’s family abides by the tradition that the eldest grandchild carries a duty to name his or her grandparents. Michael named his mom’s parents “Bubba” and “Gumpy.” My eldest named Michael’s parents “Summa” and “Bucka”. My parents became “Nana” and “Abuelo”. Now the Grand Girl has dubbed us “Booma” and “Boopa”.
I just spent two weeks with the Grand Girl, as her Momma had a business trip and Da is in school. My first morning there I awoke to a little voice singing “Booma Booma” in the next room.

I got her out of her crib, changed the diaper and we went back to sleep for a bit. Having this experience with one’s own child is pretty special. Doing it again with the Grand Girl takes things to a higher plane.

My Girl didn’t leave until later in the afternoon so I got to spend a little time with them as their own family.

The GG loves putting her fingers in the mix. Makes everything taste better.

Matt needed to do school stuff the next day, so I went shopping with the GG, stocked up on groceries, and then we went to the hardware store to find anchors to hang an art installation.

So many things to look at!

Installed! The moss balls were very happy to be up off the floor.

Our two weeks whizzed by.

We made enchiladas.

We made pizza.

We went to the park.

We cleaned up.

We played with the neighbors.

We took a 6 hour car ride to go see Nana in New Mexico.

We went to another playground.

We ate plums at the neighbor’s ranch.

We played in the garden.

We found stuffed animals everywhere.

We visited for a while before going back to Colorado.

We marveled at how amazing it is to have daughters, grand daughters and great grand daughters.

We reveled in the loot Momma brought back from Italy.

The Grand Girl may remember none of this (she is only 2), but the important thing is that she feels safe in my lap and she knows we love her. It takes time and energy to make anything grow. Becoming Booma (and Boopa) is one of our most precious projects.

Vintner journal: going to press

We have apples this year!

Zeke picking a Northwestern Greening.

We also have friends who have an apple chopper and press they were willing to lend us.

The wheelbarrow contains about 2/3 of the NW Greenings. We used all the Harralsons from one of our four trees, which was about twice the amount of apples shown here.

Yesterday brought sunshine in what has been a long stretch of rain and we used all that time to process about 8 bushels (or 80 gallons) of apples.

Things learned: the grinder liked apples cut in half better than in quarters; the chute I made from aluminum flashing and a 1x4 helped direct apples from the grinder to the bucket; adjusting our 3 foot high table to 2 feet high was good for the press but low for grinding; it worked well to line the bucket with the apple bag rather than transfer ground apples to the bag as it sat in the press; it is important to level the apples before pressing; and this is at least a two-person job.

Michael has been dreaming of making hard cider for years. We are rather excited to begin making that dream a reality.

A split round block sits on top of the apple bag.

Blocks are added as the screw mechanism presses that round block down, releasing juice from the ground apples.

Having the press clamped to a table allowed us to place a 5 gallon bucket, which held a colander dressed with cheesecloth, under the spout.

We made about 8.5 gallons of juice in 4 hours. We hope to be more efficient in the future.

The final task was to crush and add Camden tablets to the juice to kill any natural yeast. Sometimes the natural yeast tastes good. Sometimes it doesn’t. Using known yeast provides a more reliable result.

Michael started brewing with a wine project while I was in Colorado playing in yeast with the Grand Girl.

Pizza dough. Yum.

Michael harvested the rhubarb…it needed a haircut!

Chopped, sugar added, and bagged.

Pink!

The bubbler on the top let’s you know the yeast is working, releasing the gas without exposing the brew to outside air (or yeast).

Transferring to a bucket without the rhubarb in it. Very pink!

Both the rhubarb and the cider should be drinkable in about 3 months. Expect updates around Christmas!

May we all be this pleased.

Fishing journal: new lake, different fish

Just after Labor Day, some friends and their relatives came to visit. When they heard we only had canoes, they decided to bring their bass fishing boat. Instead of taking them to the lake that has no bass, we decided to expand our horizons.

The result of our recon mission might look paltry, but only if you don’t know what it’s like to fish in 25 MPH winds in a canoe. It’s a wonder we caught anything!

Big Trade Lake is beautiful and big enough for a boat with a motor. The wind died down once our visitors arrived.

Michael caught bass.

Kenny caught bass.

Jim caught bass. All the guys caught fish and us gals came up empty.

The next morning Michael and I cleaned fish while Kenny and his crew went out on the lake once more. This time, his sister Becky reeled in the prize.

A 34” Northern Pike is nothing to sneeze at.

A wolf in fish clothing!

The fish was large enough to fillet out all the Y bones for which pike are infamous.

Fillets to feed a small army!

This fellow should chase tomatoes sky high next spring.

Mrs. Beasley and Boyo, smoking on the back steps after gorging on fish livers.

The rest of us took the fish, but Tara took the cake. So good to share the bounty with friends and family.

Foraging journal: Zeke the puffball pigdog inspires pasta

When we first arrived five years ago, we found giant puffballs along our driveway. No such luck this year, but Zeke sniffed out a Purple Spored Puffball on August 24th.

Puffballs like sandy soil…just what we have along roadsides!

We have been gathering them ever since.

Cleaned and ready for processing. Not as readily edible as potato chips. Then again, I wouldn’t eat potato chips I found on the roadside.

Puffballs lack a pleasant texture. They are mighty like savory marshmallows.

Into the dehydrator they go! Dried, they can be pulverized to hide their texture and release their incredible mushroom flavor.

We have made “mushroom soup” from the dried slices by rehydrating the slices in broth and placing them in a blender, but we usually then have to use them in wild rice or risotto as they still suffer from texture problems. Michael came up with the idea of blenderizing them dry and using them to make pasta.

I researched pasta recipes and settled on 10 ounces of flour, 2 ounces of puffball powder, a teaspoon salt and four duck eggs.

Mixing by hand. Better than Playdoh!

Kneading until it feels wonderfully springy and doesn’t tear. Working on the dining room table let me use my upper body weight to manhandle the dough.

We do have a pasta machine. We invested after rolling and cutting noodles by hand.

Michael turned the crank while I fed the dough through the rollers.

We chose a fettuccine width and one click less than the thinnest noodle setting.

We cleaned a space in the addition to dry noodles.

We figured out width and depth settings by trying different settings and then boiling small batches.

With just a trace of olive oil, the puffballs made pasta worth eating. Yum! Michael has gone from a puffball skeptic to looking forward to having them as a regular resource.

Working together (rolling pasta works so much better with extra hands), thinking of unusual uses (we found NO recipes online for mushroom powder noodles), and enjoying the results of our labor simply eggs us on (pun intended) to new heights of gustatory adventures.

We will leave the table dancing to the Grand Girl.

Construction journal: it’s the little things…

Somehow I no longer feel badly about taking two months to get the railing and gates made for the deck. Today it took Michael and me all day to put flashing under all the addition doors.

Michael is beginning construction on a staircase up to the doorway into our section of the addition. Before he got it firmly in place, I suggested we finally get the flashing added under the door to protect the wooden sill plate from backsplash. We should have put the flashing in BEFORE the siding, but we aren’t that smart….

The first piece went in pretty easily, as the wood under the door was flush with the cement block. I did have to slice the flashing so that we could fit it around the bottom lip of the siding. Having had success, I confidently cut another strip of flashing for the next doorway.

Irene has had “temporary” steps to her door for over a year now. They had grown over with grass and took some muscle (and a shovel) to move them so we could get the bottom of the door flashed. The step-down means there hasn’t been much backsplash, but we hope to give her a better entryway next year.

True to form, there was a nailhead in the way of sliding this section in the same way as the first piece. After trimming the initial piece way too much, we cut a second piece, located the problem nailhead, and managed to trim away just enough and not too much. Getting this piece to lie flat was more challenging as we had added a board under the sill to support the sill lip. Who knows why we had to do this for this door but not the first one? Maybe it’s because we got better at installing doors as we went along…. The first door pictured is the last door we hung.

At least there was no bottom channel to contend with on the deck door…only the deck! Michael crawled underneath and prodded the flashing around the board we added under this door sill as well. We had to sneak the flashing under the siding and back up and around boards.

No wonder it took us all day! Okay, maybe half a day. I walked Zeke and Michael fed and watered the birds. He made bread and I made breakfast and dinner and washed dishes. We took the recycling into town when we went in to buy feed. You know, all the regular stuff that needs to happen in addition to construction.

Harvest and construction journals: first of the tomatoes and last of the deck work

We have been racing the rain, and won by golly!

So the tomatoes are still a little green…didn’t want them bursting in the scheduled rain. They went well with our morning duck eggs.

Snow on May 19th means we are just now getting our first tomatoes. We will not make 70° today. Even thought we have plenty of green tomatoes, they have been slow to ripen.

The deck is done! Now I can play with a full deck…

Michael and Matt laid the last of the deck flooring in June. It has taken me two months to get the rails and gates cut, assembled, and installed.

One of the challenges was designing posts where I couldn’t use the deck foundation posts.

These are bolted to the face board. Michael drilled and bolted while I held them in place. They were a little wobbly until I tied them together with railing. Figuring out how to cut 4” posts on a table saw that only reached 3” high was interesting. Matt figured out about marking the guide rail so I could tell where the end of my saw blade came. I didn’t overcut any of my posts!

I’ve gotten better at using clamps to hold things in place while I drill then screw them. Because I’m driving a screw at an angle, the boards tend to “walk” unless there is a way to block them. Having them not flush with the top of the post creates problems down the line.

This is the gate to nowhere. Eventually, it will lead to either a ramp or stairs. We have to figure out what we can install without hitting any of the sewer or electricity that runs on that side. We want something so we can reach the window to replace it (and then maybe wash it occasionally). The blue thing is part of a pool noodle I attached to the jamb so the gate doesn’t rattle in the wind.

The final piece was installing a gate and railing so that we can easily get in and out of the yard, but Zeke and the chickens can’t.

We left the yard side wider so we can still get a washer up those stairs if need be!

Now that the outside work is done, I hope to clean out the work space so I can complete the finishing work in the bathroom, and then Michael and I can get the last of the wallboard hung in the addition. I only have two weeks before I leave to babysit the Grand Girl in Colorado.

We will have to find some projects to work on together while her dad is in school and momma is away on business!

Fishing journal: getting ready for winter

Summertime, and the fishing is easy. Michael and I ventured out on an afternoon when Irene had other places to be, freeing us from dinner prep obligations. (Not that I didn’t make dinner, but we did eat after 7 pm and it did involve a slook of green beans. It’s what goes from garden to plate these days!)

New dock at the public landing at our favorite lake.

This is an afternoon lake, so we didn’t get on the water until about 2 pm. We were off by 5, and caught 44 fish. It was a good day.

27 crappies and 17 sunnies

We had an osprey buzz us a few times, and then saw a bald eagle swoop over and land in a tree. He’s the smaller of these two birds. We think the larger bird was a golden eagle. If so, he was well outside his usual territory.

Our luck catching fish meant we had fish to clean the next morning. Our chickens love the fish livers.

Ten meals ready to be bagged and frozen.

The eleventh meal we had immediately! My beer batter has been improved with the addition of Wimbi (millet) flour…a delicacy we find in the Cities.

Having a freezer full of fish allows us to explore some lakes we haven’t fished yet.

We did find a lake full of yellow bullheads. We caught a fish nearly every time we cast, but they were all 5-6”…not worth cleaning so they went back to grow some more.

We would like to find a lake with eelpout, a type of freshwater cod.

Any excuse to get back on the water!