Dark days journal: brightening things up

Dark and cold have been the themes for the past several weeks. Both Michael and I notice that we move less and want to eat more. I think it has something to do with 20° below and wind: the perfect time to become creative!

My mother has gifted my girls baby blankets made from odds and ends of leftover sock yarn. She gets to the end of a project and knits squares out of the leftovers, thus having a ready supply to crochet together into a blanket. I haven’t knit anything in ages (except hats…I love hats) and so decided to try the same to clear out a bit of my yarn stash. I also cannibalized some socks with holes in them. I made different shapes to keep boredom at bay. I then sent the blanket to a woman who might appreciate a blanket “that doesn’t have colors usual for a baby.” I hope her baby likes it as much as the Grand Girl loves hers.

Michael moved a brush pile onto our garden, stacked the deer carcasses on top and then added more brush. I cleared the farolito bags and candle ends and added them to the mix. It made for a hot and fast burn. Ashes to ashes. Dust to carrots and cabbage.

The eastern windows catch more and more light, whenever the sun does come out. I haven’t tumbled more rocks, as cleaning them of grit must be done outside to preserve the plumbing. I like to save those types of projects for above freezing weather.

Michael unearthed my jewelry supplies, allowing me to experiment with wrapping the agates I tumbled last year. I hope to crochet valences to support wrapped rocks, so I will have time and space to admire them daily…and not have to worry about the cat knocking them around.

Dusty grows huge in the dark days. He sees no reason to do anything more than eat, sleep, and harass Zeke.

Zeke will go out in all weather. He did cut short a walk in the wind one day, but mostly revels in being out and about. Here he found a drift of oak leaves. This, he says, means springtime.

Irene improved her hearing to the point where she can appreciate music again. She reclaimed her keyboard, but the music stand got lost in the shuffle. Michael created a new one from a broken flag holder from my trike. We hope she will have honed her skills enough to play herself “Happy Birthday” (ala Grisman?) by her 90th in May.

The turkeys high tailed it for the woods a few moments after I snapped this photo this morning. I took the snowmobile trail, confident that the snowmobiles wouldn’t be using it yet. I trekked across the field to rescue the heater from the stand: the last task to clean up from hunting season. Now to start spring cleaning! We need space to incubate chicks and ducklings.

Did I mention my love of hats?

Hats: a fun way to make the dark days brighter!

Harvest journal: the soybean effect

We count anywhere from 15 to 25 deer in our field in the evenings. The turkeys flock in groups from 10 to 30. Pheasants create large scrapes. Mice, voles, rabbits and squirrels abound. Hawks, falcons and eagles follow. Having the soy beans harvested, but the field untilled, leaves sufficient food to attract birds and beasts of every stripe.

The eagles would not say no to a chicken dinner. The chickens, on the other hand, have kept the hair on their chinny chin chins inside.

We harvested 4 deer off our land this year, and a neighbor gifted us one more. This allowed us to make 115 lbs of sausages. Brats. Potato sausage, smoked and unsmoked. Kielbasa. The chickens contributed to the brat pile. We bought pork to add to the potato sausage and kielbasa. I really like our home made sausage, even if we have more to learn.

Lightly smoked potato sausage. The unsmoked version eats well too.

Smoked kielbasa. We found a batch Michael missed when running the smoker, so we have a few unsmoked kielbasa to compare. They are better smoked! We will save the unsmoked to grill in the summer. His missing a huge bowl of sausages tells you how tired we got.

Bratwurst in process. The brats made with broiler meat turned out noticeably lighter in color than the ones made with slower growing chickens. They are all tasty.

This is the chest freezer after taking out the sausage meat. It isn’t empty! Roasts and chicken and soup bones fill the bottom layer.

Getting to that bottom layer will now be a challenge. It took us about a week of early mornings and late nights to refill the freezer.

The untilled soybean field not only sustains the wildlife. It allows us to feed these growing families too. We began over-producing meat due to the pandemic, and now continue due to inflation. It all gets eaten. Even so, Michael and I continue to lose weight and gain strength. Work and the cycles of life are good.

Grand journal: looking back and looking forward

I had my first daughter on the first day of my last semester of law school, by C Section. I missed a whole month then nursed my newborn in class and changed her on desktops while teaching classes myself. I took the bar exam as a nursing mother. July. Chicago. She was hot and hungry. I developed mastitis. We survived.
I had my second daughter while clerking for a federal judge. I missed two weeks of work and then brought my baby into chambers for the five months left on my clerkship. The accommodation allowed me to have a baby and still do the work that needed to be done. It was unusual at the time and remains uncommon today. I was extraordinarily lucky. The challenges I faced as a new mother were not the same as those of my mother or grandmothers. I have always drawn strength from knowing they overcame everything life threw at them and succeeded in fostering a new generation.
Michael took over as primary care giver when I started lawyering full time. We made it work, but I have more attention available to focus on my Grands.

A house full of babies. Not as full as my mom’s or my grandmothers’, but fuller than I could possibly hope.

At four and a half, the Grand Girl not only is a competent cookie cutter, but has the attention span and coordination to roll tamales. She noticed when I put sprinkles on the Christmas Birthday cake. Who knew sprinkles could cause such wonder? Could I have forgotten how much my girls loved to decorate with sprinkles? It is good to have reminders.

The Petite Grand looks like a Villa girl. She smiles more than any baby I’ve seen. My uncles always said I looked like their mom, my grandmother, whom I never met. Persephone is the image of Irene when younger, who is the image of her mother. Michael looks eerily like his grandfather. Beanie Boy is cut from the same cloth as his father. We are introduced to our forebears through our children.

Irene is the Great Grand Girl of the bunch. The Grand Girl loves to go and visit Irene in her in-law apartment. If ever I needed to find either one, I knew where to look.

Poor Beanie Boy gets more rough play (being anywhere near Michael’s beard is rough!). He will have to be extra tough with two girl cousins to deal with. There were 5 boys and 3 girls in my family. My dad always said it came out even.

The Grand Girl loved going over the snow jump her dad made for her. She is his shadow.

The Petite Grand has the physical strength and activity level of her sister. Their mom was a floppy child. She chose a partner with coordination and a love of play not common in our family. Good choice!

Beanie Boy, like his Momma, can be both fussy as well as super charming. His father brings a level of calmness and good humor to them all, for which I am ever grateful.
Finding out who your children are is like seeing a flower bloom or any growing thing come to fruition. I can hardly wait to find out who these small people have inside them and what new thing they will become.

Season journal: Happy Solstice!

These are a few of my favorite things: enjoying the snow while cleaning like banshees, readying the house for the arrival of the Grands Girls and their parents.

4” of snow and 18° for those who care to know.

Lilith fell asleep holding Petra’s hand as they rolled down the road.

Felix and baths go together like peas and carrots.

We can light our world enough to have winter roses, but the ducks decided to take a vacation from laying eggs.

We ground burger and have corned roasts, but have yet to make sausage. Our freezers are full!

The Libby pumpkins have saved well and make amazing pies. Or rather, Michael makes amazing pies with these pumpkins!

Unbroken snow. It gives us our aerobics.

We hung wallboard but no mistletoe.

Animals and food. It’s what we do. We are tired, but not grumpy about it. Cleaning is just a constant when you live with and around animals, including us humans. It is all so very worth it. And you just fail to notice that it is dark.

Everything is brighter already.

Season journal: the health and happiness show

We are at 6° at 10 am. The high for today, 17°, happened earlier this morning. We are going nowhere but down today.

Zeke walked us out to the deer stands, snuffling all the way.

A few inches of snow fell yesterday. We have not had any significant snowfall yet. Warm weather lasted until today.

“Warm” being relative: we have had fires since October.

Fires require hauling logs from yon to hither, which in turn inspired us to dust off our weight room and start our winter exercise routines. My left arm became nearly useless after hauling my first load of logs. It is better after the more controlled pumping of iron. My entire upper body aches. The odd thing is that I don’t mind, knowing it to be transient, a step on the way to feeling strongly alive. The word I associate with this feeling is “joy.”

The feeling of holding a Grand baby I describe as “bliss.” It is related to joy; perhaps a sedentary version.

Michael trades walkie and weight lifting days with me. Hauling buckets of water convinced him we really could find time in our day for one more thing. We both lost 30 pounds or more since last January. We both feel more limber and less arthritic. Starting the year with both of us injured convinced us it was time to get serious about losing weight and increasing aerobic capacity. Now we start on recovering muscle mass.

We love seeing turkeys vacuuming soy beans from the field. We hope to keep healthy enough to share the happiness that comes with being close to the land with our children, their children, and if we are very lucky indeed, their children.

This bunch may move back to our area of the Frozen North in the coming year. We look forward to sharing the Greatest Show on Earth with these wee ones!

Happiness journal: welcome Felix!

Felix Dain arrived two weeks earlier than expected. At 6.5 lbs, he’s a cuddly little bean!

I tore myself away from Petra and Lilith on October 25, arriving home on the 27th. I’m still not entirely unpacked….

The weekend before I left we got to carve pumpkins…including my traveling companion.

Lilith’s penguin costume arrived after I left.

We made our rounds, sharing food and stories with our dearly departed. We celebrated the Days of the Dead on Halloween as Persephone and Nate had to work on Monday. Persephone’s water broke just as they were leaving.

She worked very hard for 34 hours. Good job!

Felix’s parents have been exhausted ever since. I remember that level of tired!

We celebrated Felix’s first week by putting up metal siding around the new window. We have interspersed our Felix fixes with getting our chores done.

Michael’s bristle brush beard entertained Felix’s fingers.

My super power is burping babies.

Michael and I both shot our deer opening weekend. Sufficient to share and keep those young people supplied with protein. Sausage making to commence shortly.

We are hoping to see these two before long. It would be great if the cousins could grow up together. Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. We are exhausted but really thankful for all our blessings.

Travel Journal: the difference between being a guest and being family

My son-in-law recently mentioned that I was the best guest they ever had (and they’ve had quite a few recently). I let him know that I wasn’t a guest, I was family. Given that I am sleeping in the guest room, what is the difference?

There is nothing like having a tiny morsel snuggled down on you, except maybe having that tiny thing recognize you, your scent, the timber of your voice, because they are essentially familiar.

I am here in Colorado to be a grandmama. Petra came to light on October 4, the Feast of St. Francis, the guardian of all small animals. This particular small animal is strong, active, demanding, yet also oddly patient and aware. She was hungry this morning, but her mother needed to take care of a few things before feeding her. Petra became gradually more upset, until her momma came near. Then she calmed down again. She heard her momma. She smelled her momma. Sure enough, food was on the way. Such confidence in a week old person! That assuredness of care is part of family.

The Grand Girl gets much of her beauty and verve from her father. Her wanting to come and watch the sun rise with me, or letting me brush her hair, or having me to read to her, or helping me pick the last of the green beans, connects her to her mama’s side of the family.

I drove out to Colorado to be an extra pair of hands and arms for these two wee ones. Cooking, cleaning, going shopping…all those grandmotherly functions that cannot be done long distance. Letting my daughter rest and heal. Letting my son in law continue to work on his Master’s thesis. I can slip into their routine and pick up the slack because their patterns are familiar.

Guess who’s holding Petra?

I wish I had these small people closer. Family provides continuity and connectedness. My whole trip has been devoted to seeing family.

I made a long trip shorter by stopping in Iowa to see my niece Alejandra, who has been studying bat mortality due to wind turbines in Iowa. She has grown to be a fascinating, insightful, beautiful person.

The second leg of my journey brought me to Wichita, and meeting a brother from another mother for the very first time. Don has so many of my father’s mannerisms. It was amazing to see him alive in a different body. An afternoon’s visit wasn’t long enough to catch up on two lifetimes apart. Don was born before my mom and dad married. I don’t know if my father knew he had a sixth son before he received notice that Don was looking for him shortly before he died.

The third leg of my journey brought me to my own mommy, the wellspring of all wonder.

My mother has any number of irons in the fire, which is situation normal! I brought her garlic, so we got one of her raised beds cleared, turned over, potting soil added, and bulbs planted.

Does this look like an 88 year old who has just been slinging bags of potting soil? Yes!!!

We harvested amaranth.

I repaired her tin cutter, that had fallen apart before I arrived.

We took early morning walks and enjoyed the neighbors’ gardens.

And we toasted being together! Stepping into a different stream and flowing with the current of her life felt like coming home…because it was.

And then it was time to leave with Pumpkin, who road shotgun throughout the journey.

Driving allowed me to bring some of the bounty of our farmstead with me. I left jam and jelly, if not also garlic and tomatoes and apples, wherever I stopped. Food. It’s what Michael and I do.

Meanwhile, back at the farm, the window arrived and got installed!

Michael has cut and split wood to fill the wood bins.

He harvested rutabagas. They are the magic ingredient in pasties.

He tucked our own garlic in for the winter.

He cleared brush around the deer stands.

I could not be here without Michael being there. He anchors me and allows me to float freely at the same time. This grandmama gig is pretty sweet. But part of that gig will be returning home, to continue making that space for people to feel at home, even if they are sleeping in the guest room.

Harvest journal: navigating the cascade

I missed writing on the equinox yesterday. Harvest time is busy under the best of circumstances, and I’ve been moonlighting to support our unsustainable farming practices. The gardens don’t know that.

The popcorn glows in the low September light.

We’ve had bumper crops of most everything, except cherries. The late spring made us replant tomatoes and eggplant and harmed the cherries and apricots, but once frost passed us by, it got hot and dry. Apparently, that’s what gardens like!

The apple blossoms opened after frost.

A small sample of the total harvest.

Luckily, we had willing recruits to help us press the cider fodder…two weekends in a row!

The pay is bad, but the entertainment dividends are great.

This is 1/8th of a head of cabbage. My 14” knife reaches across, but just barely. Braised with a bit of butter and salt, it’s what’s for dinner.

The black walnuts have been plentiful as well.

It takes about a gallon of uncracked nuts to make 3 cups of nut meats.

In amongst everything else, Michael got the outdoor outlet moved so we can put siding up whenever the window arrives. I’m leaving for Colorado and the arrival of Grand Girl # 2 in two days. The window comes today or it won’t get in until November. Le sigh.

Sunrise, sunset, swiftly flow the days…

In spite of ourselves, we’ll be sitting at the end of the rainbow…

The great thing about working with Michael is, no matter if projects aren’t perfect, they tend to turn out pretty well in the end.

And the food really is good, on a number of levels.

Construction journal: tearing down and building up

We have embarked on the maintenance of the oldest part of our house, which was built in 1997. Twenty four years is time enough for wind and water to take its toll.

This door has been leaking for a while. We needed to find out how much damage had been done to the under flooring. Michael took out the door and jamb on July 16th.

We have been sleeping in the living room for 7 years now. The hole on the right is where the electrical box used to be.

Michael took down the wallboard on August 21. We ordered windows and siding in mid-July. The pandemic means it now takes 2 months for delivery rather than the 3 weeks it took in 2016.

August 23 and the insulation is down, revealing the wiring that needs to be moved. That blue box in the lower middle is a code violation installed by Michael’s father. It’s gone now.

Michael had to take off the siding from the original part of the house to follow the wiring and disconnect it from boxes so it could be removed from the area under construction.

Monday August 30 we purchased building supplies. Tuesday August 31 we took the siding off the wall.

Sure enough, the flooring was rotting. But only a patch that was 4”x5”.

I cut a foot length of 2x4 and held it up from the basement so that Michael could clamp it and attach it. This created a 3” wide platform for the 4” wide flooring patch. A 2x6 then covered whatever indiscretion remained, completing the wall sill.

Wall studs removed.

The future window, which will replace the door, is framed in. Again, the hole framed in on the right used to be the electrical box. We moved it downstairs due it’s causing condensation in winter. There was no insulation at that point as the electrical service occupied the depth of the wall. It was late by the time we got this far, so I hung plastic to keep the raccoons at bay.

Today we put up OSB (oriented strand board). It is much stronger than the press board Michael’s father used as both underlayment and siding. The lack of underlayment is why all the seams of the interior wallboard are ripped and buckled. The press board didn’t give sufficient strength to the walls to keep the house from flexing in high winds. It also shouldn’t warp. The press board pulled away from the sill, creating spaces in which insects and mice had access to the house. We hope the window and siding arrive before I leave for Colorado at the end of the month.

We celebrated securing the house from tomorrow’s rain by doing a bit of gardening (more tomatoes!) and rescuing some baby bunnies who became entangled in the chicken wire surrounding the asparagus garden.

Babies! We love babies! They are Grand.

Harvest journal: shearing season

You see posts about sheep escaped to the wild with overdue fleeces. I’m feeling akin to those wayward wanderers.

I have ears like my dad’s. Who knew?

Most organizations that take donations require at least 12”. I am sending in 19”, 17 of which may be usable. Pictured is one of the four ponytails the barber sheared off.

I’ve been growing my hair to donate since I retired in 2014. No more having to look professional in a courtroom! The immediate push came from a safety hazard while triking. No danger of getting my braid caught in my spokes now. Whew.

Oddly, the shorter hair feels warmer. I should be able to manage a French braid soon. In the meantime, the weather forecast promises cooler temperatures by the end of the week.

Leaves are beginning to turn.

Puffballs appear before the equinox.

Winter is Coming.

Garden journal: abundance

Late July and August and the monsoons have finally begun.

July 24th. It rained for about an hour. We’ve been having smaller, if steadier, rain ever since. Up until then we were in drought status.

Despite the rain, the river runs low and slow.

Drought or no, The 4’ sunflowers are 8’ tall.

We grabbed our share of elderberries from the birds and have jelly to share.

We had a couple of weeks of smoky days from western wildfires. This, however, is morning fog: a sure sign of fall.

The Anaheim chiles loved the hot, dry weather. We parch and freeze them for winter. This batch we ate immediately as Chile Rellenos.

The beet greens make wonderful pizza toppings. The beets make into chips, or salads, or just beets. I love beets. They don’t always grow well here, but this is a beet year.

The squash and pumpkins, on the other hand, are few and far between, if also gigantic.

We were graced with a visit from Starla, a friend from forever. Being able to see friends again feeds my soul.

The popcorn has tasseled. It looks to be a bumper crop. Cucumbers and carrots add to daily salads.

Tomatoes begin their cascade, finding a place in every meal. I love tomato season.

Rain is unkind to onions. We harvested half the onions prior to the rain. We just pulled the other half. We will see if they will store.

The question “What’s for dinner?” is often answered by the need to use garden goods before they go bad. We had a bundle of onions already affected by the rain, which meant onion quiche was back on the menu. Too hot for onion soup. Those are the two dishes I know of that require 2-3 pounds of onions each!

The rain brought us a harvest of agaricus. Again, produce that will not save.

The perfect excuse to make omelettes.

Dead wood must be harvested as well. We saw our first maple beginning to turn today. Even though it will be another beautiful day, winter is just around the corner. We are feeling particularly pressed due to my planned trip to Colorado, where I will stay for a while.

I get to hang out with the Grand Girl while my daughter works on bringing Grand Girl #2 to light. Better work there cannot be.

Blessings journal: starting a new trip around the sun

Michael makes pies. I make cakes. Then we feed others. That is a blessing.

The garlic loved the hot weather we’ve had this year. Weather of all kinds is a blessing.

Michael and I have been taking evening rides together. Having him back on two feet is a blessing.

I can’t ride a regular bicycle due to wrist cysts. Finding a used recumbent that allows me to join Michael and is geared so that I can make it up the hill from the river is a blessing.

Not running over too many bears is a blessing.

Hot weather that inspires piles of grilled garden vegetables is a blessing.

Having Irene not get run over by the truck that was following her when she slammed on her brakes to photograph this albino deer is a blessing.

Silly party hats are a blessing.

Watching young stock grow is a blessing.

Enjoying the beauty of the geranium my great grandpa gave my great grandma is a blessing.

Having a guardian of the tomato patch is a blessing.

We are so interconnected with all that surrounds us, and all that surrounds us is a blessing. Sometimes a mixed one, but that’s what makes life interesting. I can hardly wait to see what this next leg of the journey brings.

Season journal: red

Beet greens, red onion, and feta galette.

Black currant jam.

Ten and a half pounds at 9 weeks old.

Black raspberry jam.

Black raspberries.

Cherry jam.

Michael with the red mower: he is allowed to stand on both feet!

Days full of work and beauty.

Construction journal: outside of cabin window replacement finished

When Clyde and Irene were still snowbirds, Michael and I had children old enough to stay at home by themselves overnight. At that point we created a space in the garage that could be heated with a wood stove so we could hunt the land in November. Remember, the house was not winter worthy. When we were building this space, we picked up a very nice window from the roadside in a ritzy part of the countryside. Even nice, if used, windows need replacing on occasion. It was time for this one to go.

Wood rot undermined the mechanism to roll the panes in and out.

First we pried the trim off. We still couldn’t figure out how we installed the window, so Michael cut through the frame and pried out the sash.

Michael previously had taken down the wallboard and insulation from the inside. When we have snowy winters, this space tends to have a river run through it. Having built with green lumber means none of the wood rotted. The insulation and wallboard had gotten moldy. We will work on the inside before winter comes. The start date on this project was around June 15. These photos are from the 19th.

We are not fast builders, but then, we often have other emergencies and pleasures intervene. We had friends from Maine visiting in the area fro June 20-27. It was good to see Wayne and Nanon again!

In this photo from February you can see the window in the garage just peeking out from under the stair railing.

Last September we removed a window between the kitchen and the addition that Clyde and Irene installed when they had the first addition added in 2007. That is the window we used to replace the cabin window.

Because the two windows were not the same size, I had to reframe the rough opening.

I lucked into a piece of 1/2” green plywood that filled the outside space. So nice to use scrap wood! The white stuff on the bottom is stick-on flashing.

After applying more flashing around the window (layered so as to shed water) I cut and installed J-channel around the window.

Today’s project was residing the cabin. We put up more J-channel along the top and rescued left-over metal siding from one of our myriad trailers. I even put J-channel around the outlet you can see at the very top left.

We still have to install bottom channel. It helps keep the wasps out. We are done for the day and have the outside weather proofed. No, the reds don’t match: such is the nature of recycling leftovers. Even so, I’m pleased with the results.

I am out to pick up the tools and start to find a home for a bunch of hardwood planks I inherited from a friend’s father. It is due to rain tonight. We need the rain, but not on the raw cut boards. We had to get the metal up so I can cannibalize the sawhorses we used to raise the metal cutting frame. Michael does amazing things on his peg leg, but cutting metal on the ground was not one of them. Now to find indoor space for those sawhorses and planks.

Bonus photo: Lil’ Blackie hatched 4 chicks on July 2-3.

Added bonus: the wood fit in the tractor shed! We scored cherry, white oak, red oak, butternut, poplar and old barn wood (that is, actual 2” x 4” s).

Geology journal: sparkle!

Zeke takes me for a two mile daily walk. Depending on the angle and intensity of the sun, I will find at least one agate. A girl has to look for something new each day! Michael gifted me a rock tumbler for Christmas. My son in law Matt (the other geologist in the family) inspired me to put it to use when he was here in May.

Four weeks later and my rocks sparkle!

These are mostly agates, but I snuck in some banded iron formation, rhyolite, citrine, plain old quartz, and one amethyst. Most of the agates are red, which is common for Lake Superior varieties. A glacier scooped them up and dumped them locally long ago.

Agates fresh from the road side.

Agates, citrine and quartz after having their edges rounded with coarse grit.

Agates, banded iron formation and quartz after their second tumble.

Agates and quartz after the third tumble. The bottom rock looks waxy. It was the driest in this photo. I could start to buff the rocks and have them begin to shine, which meant they were ready for the final stage.

Viola! Shiny rocks!

More shiny rocks!

Some of these are distinctive enough that I remember picking them up.

Thank you Matt for convincing me I had time for one more project! Now to find my jewelry making equipment so I can wrap some of these shiny rocks and hang them in a window.

Livestock journal: ducklings!

Two ducklings hatched on June 25, with a third making her appearance on June 26.

Babies!

Sylvia makes a “bloop bloop” coo I’ve never heard from a duck before. She kept her babies under her or under her wing when we would come in to put out food and water. We are fascinated by all the new behaviors.

Gracie takes her companion duck role seriously.

Sylvia originally had her nest where Gracie is sitting in the above photo. About a week before the ducklings hatched she moved her nest away from the wall. When she and Gracie and the kids were all outdoors, we peeked in her new nest. There are three eggs left in there. We also investigated the original nesting site and discovered 11 abandoned eggs. A number of other ducks were leaving eggs in Sylvia’s nest, which was partly why we moved the rest of the ducks down to pasture. Michael discovered he could move duck yurts while on his iWALK. The ducks and Michael love summer pasture.

Green!

Yesterday the black duckling shared Sylvia’s bath. She got out of the tub all on her own. Ducklings who crawl on and under mama ducks get coated with duck oil and so can take duck baths. Incubator ducklings have to wait about a month before they start to develop their own water resistance that keeps them afloat.

Sylvia continues to sit on the three remaining eggs. It may be another week or so before they are due to hatch. We assume she knows what she was doing when she chose eggs to move. She rolls the eggs around under her and keeps them warm and moist. This is as far as I’ve seen the ducklings get from her. Mostly they are on her or under her feet.

We miss having our duckies under our feet!

Garden journal: the engines are beginning to roar

Happy Solstice! In celebration of the longest day of the year, I am posting a garden tour.

First day lily of the season. The drought hasn’t hurt them, just made them oranger.

Herbs: parsley, lavender, basil, thyme and curry. Those monsters in the back are kale who wintered over. We hope to save the seed.

Red onions, eggplants, and tomatoes. The cherry tomatoes replaced the starts killed by late frost. A lone lettuce volunteered.

The asparagus in bloom. We had to fence the ducks out or we would have no asparagus at all!

Elders in full blow!

The popcorn already is knee high. Directly behind the corn are onions infested with volunteer potatoes. Behind the onions are eggplants, chiles, beets, and cucumbers.

Salad fodder fills the raised bed on the left: lettuce, spinach, radishes and peas.

Potatoes are tucked into straw. Behind them aged currants still yield jelly fodder.

We will free the winter squash once they are big enough to beat the chickens into submission.

Sunflowers, green beans, more eggplant, more onions, and maybe more thyme. This garden needs weeding!

Tomatoes! We have blossoms but no fruit yet. Maybe by the end of July…. I will eat tomatoes morning, noon and night.

We have more garden than we need, but then again, you never know what will grow and what will succumb to weather, pests, and weeds. If we have an embarrassment of riches, we usually can find a doorstep in need of a tomato or bag of lettuce or a giant squash.

Growing things. They are the best. Happy Birthday LIlith!

Harvest journal: my how you’ve grown

Michael and I picked up 26 baby chicks from the feed store on May 4th. They were all broilers this year.

Fluffiness personified.

You aren’t supposed to kiss your chickens, so we do the cheek smush instead. This is probably a 2 day old chick.

Cheek smushing my one week old chick.

Smushing at two weeks.

This chick is growing like gangbusters too!

Smushing at 3 weeks.

Getting a little too large to smush one handed at 4 weeks.

Getting to be an armful at 5 weeks.

And one last cheek smush at 6 weeks for this fellow before sending him to freezer camp. Broilers are typically harvested between 6-8 weeks of age. Normal chickens take 14-16 weeks.

One of the 26 original chicks expired in the first week due to unknown causes. We had some very cold weather to begin, and then blazing hot temps. We harvested 21 chickens over 3 days (our weather cooled down just in time) and we have 92 lbs of usable chicken parts in the freezer. We will wait another 2 weeks to harvest the last four. They will go from an average of about 5 pounds to 8-10 pounds in that two weeks. This batch has been interesting in that they have run around, gotten into cock fights, eaten grass and, in general, have behaved more like chickens and less like protein factories. It will be interesting to see if they taste any different. We have one package of legs and thighs, several packages of soup bones and feet, and one roasting bird from last year’s harvest. We grew 231 pounds of chicken last year due to the pandemic. We have not used our incubator this year due to being uncertain about Michael’s mobility. Turns out he’s incredibly mobile using his iWALK peg leg.

We anxiously wait to see how many chicks will come from Lil’ Blackie’s efforts. For the first time we have a broody duck (Sylvia!) so we will have ducklings too. So many happy surprises.

Season journal: green

The first haying began today. The humidity of cut alfalfa softens the dry hot weather.

Raking turns hay over, allowing it to dry before baling.

The first wild roses makes walking Zeke a scent adventure.

The wild grapes bloom with exuberance.

Wild carrots add lace to shoulders.

The river runs low but cool.

A bouquet of radishes. My guy knows what I like!

Thunder provides the background music for this post. ‘It’s the season for pop-up storms. This one will be short, but shakes the house. We spend our days weeding and watering and mowing. We have been thinking of our gardening soul-mate in Alabama, who landed in the hospital yesterday. All the sun and brightness we absorb we shine her way.

Garden journal: young sprouts

Grandchildren feel like the reward for having gifted others with the love of the hard, but good, work of tending to growing things.

The Grand Girl and her people arrived about a week ago. She’s been exploring all the gardens.

She rode the lawn tractor with her Boopa.

She helps herd the chicks and ducks in at night.

She totes the daily asparagus harvest.

She wore her Booma’s hat to go on Zeke walks.

She sang her Summa her duck song.

Michael did get his bunion removed this past Friday. The surgery involved cutting bones and realigning them, then fixing them in place with hardware. It went well and he’s taking care of himself. The other grandparents had the pleasure of the Grand Girls company for the past few days. We get her back for today, then they will be gone again. We already look forward to her next visit. And we look forward to meeting the new crop of Grands.

She will become a Big Sister in October and a Big Cousin in November. Christmas will overflow with younglings!