Take Joy!

Independence Days Update

1. plant something: Garlic! Finally.

2. harvest something:  Eggs—mostly chicken, but one or two odd turkey eggs. Parsley, cutting celery—both of which are still green in their pots on the south side of the house.

3. preserve something: I stored some extra peanut butter cookies in the refrigerator (out of sight, etc.): does that count?

4. reduce waste: The usual: recycling (plastic, cat food cans, milk jugs). Continuing to use clothesline instead of dryer. Using mail waste and cutdown cardboard boxes as firestarters. I haven't mentioned it until now, but any kitchen leftovers always go to the chickens—they'll eat anything. (Though they don't much care for raw turnip, or radishes, and they don't like onions, which is just as well.)

5. preparation and storage: Nothing, really. My mind has been elsewhere this past week. (See notes, below.)

6. build community food systems: Gave away a couple dozen eggs and several loaves of bread to neighbors.

7. eat the food: Homemade bread, as always. Black beans and rice and kielbasa, all from storage. Waldorf salad from the next-to-last of my bushel of Honeycrisps and stored walnuts. Rice pudding with dried cherries—cherries from storage, rice leftover from black beans and rice.

Notes: I haven't done much this past week, because I've had a sick cat. Widget had a stroke or seizure or something while we were gone Friday, and I spent all weekend and the first part of this week nursing and worrying over her. She was eating and drinking and using the litter box, but only doing rudimentary grooming—she spent all weekend just hunkered down in front of the stove and drooling down her front. I was readying myself to say goodbye—the body was there, but my Widget wasn't. But she perked up some last night, and this morning she trotted into the kitchen and sat expectantly with everyone else—and finished up her bowlful, plus the leftovers from two others. And another bowl about lunchtime, and another one an hour ago. (Which is as much proof of normalcy as I need: every time I'm in the kitchen, there she is, saying, "Well, you're here, and I'm here, and I do believe I see a can of catfood on the cabinet. So what are we waiting for?") And she's grooming—you can see her thinking, "How in the world did I get so filthy?" So we have dodged this particular bullet. I know it's only a matter of time: she's nearly fifteen, and her fall from an 80-foot tree five or six years ago didn't do her any favors. But for now, she's back and I am enjoying her chirpy little purr beside my chair.

Other than obsess over Widget, not so much has gbeen accomplished. John has finally—we think—gotten the leak in the roof patched. More rain is forecast this weekend (after yesterday's inch and three-quarters, with wind), so we shall see what we shall see. We went to Hancock the other day and spent an exhorbitant amount on a yard of fake fur, because it's the perfect color to make Brian the stuffed coyote that I have been promising him for what, fifteen years now? Bought several bags of cheap bark mulch to spread on the slick spot in front of the feed shed, since it is obviously going to rain all winter—it's very slidy down there when it's wet and neither of us needs a broken limb right now. (Or any other time, either, thank you very much.)

I gathered up everything I will need (which involved spending the best part of one whole afternoon digging into boxes of fabric—I really do have an obscene amount of stash. New Year's Resolution—Use What You Have. Only buy what is Absolutely Necessary.) to make what Christmas gifts I am making, and put it in a box so it will be all together. Fine, right? Actual organization! Well . . . I had gone to Michael's a couple of weeks ago to get something—I forget what—but they had a bunch of small journals, planners, notecards, etc. for $1 each. Eliza has just discovered journals, and list-making, and letters, so I thought I'd give her a box of writing things, and I bought half a dozen assorted odds and ends. Plus a package of glow-in-the-dark snakes for Riley (primarily, I admit, because I liked them, but so will he). I brought them all home and put them safely away. (You see trouble coming, don't you?) Last week I decided to put the books I had accumulated for gifts, and the potholder loom we got for Emma, and some other odds and ends all in an empty cabinet (and no snide remarks, if you please, about there being an empty cabinet where I live. It was an accident, soon remedied.) . . . and I couldn't find the journals and snakes. I looked. John looked (which is a measure of how much I whined about losing them, because he ordinarily avoids doing anything where I've been working). We both looked for two whole days. We even looked in places where they couldn't possibly  have been, because neither of us had looked there for years, possibly. And couldn't find them anywhere. So I went BACK to Michael's and bought some more journals, etc.. There were no more snakes, but I did find a repulsive stretchy wormlike thing with pliable spines—I think it's gross, but I am not a three-year-old boy. I tucked these away safely in the gift cabinet, and then I happened to look in the box of fabric to make things . . . and guess what was in there? So now Eliza will have many journals, and Riley will have snakes and a worm, and I will have a nervous fit sometime later, possibly in January when there's nothing else going on. (I'm still trying to schedule time for my midlife crisis. I was busy working when I should have had it.)

I should have known that trying to be organized and efficient was A Bad Idea. and foreign to my essentially cluttered and sporadic nature.

So now I am working on some snow fairies, and finishing up two vests for Warm Woolies (which ought to have been mailed last week, but weren't, and now I shall have to pay priority shipping . . . . ), and watching the squirrels. They are everywhere—in the side yard, in the trees, in the garden, in the goat lot . . . they usually breed in January, I think, and apparently they are feeling the urge already. They spend a lot of time chasing each other around and around a tree, up and down, getting nowhere. Sort of like people, I guess.

Independence Days Update (after lo, these many weeks)

1. plant something: Tulips and pansies. Still no garlic . . . every time we get ready to plant it, it rains.

2. harvest something:  Eggs. Peppermint. A few leftover onions.

3. preserve something: Made pineapple sage jelly, which is earmarked for Christmas gifts. Canned several pints of turkey broth.

4. reduce waste: The usual: recycling (plastic, cat food cans, milk jugs). Continuing to use clothesline instead of dryer. Using mail waste and cutdown cardboard boxes as firestarters. I was offered the bones from the turkey at John's family dinner, but I didn't have room to do anything with them, so I passed this year.

5. preparation and storage: Nice big stack of wood on porch, and more up at Bob's ready to saw and split. (Never turn down free wood.) Stocked up on sweet potatoes, chicken broth, canned baby green peas, evaporated milk. (Grocery store sales.) Bought a five-pound bag of baking cocoa. More dried beans, oatmeal, raisins, dried apricots. Several jars of local molasses. Replenished stocks of flour, sugar, cat food.

6. build community food systems: Not lately, I'm afraid. Though we are sharing potatoes and eggs with one of the neighbors.

7. eat the food: Homemade bread, as always. Don't remember anything else specific—we didn't cook over Thanksgiving, so there are no leftovers. But we did cook a turkey the week before, and had turkey broth, turkey sandwiches, turkey casserole . . . . Lots of eggs, since the farmer's market replaced ours with someone else's, and now only takes 6 dozen or so a week. (And, of course, ours are laying nicely now, after weeks of nothing . . . ) Fortunately, we're both fond of breakfast-for-supper and deviled eggs, and just plain boiled eggs. Applesauce cake from homecanned applesauce. John's homemade beef jerky. Mashed sweet potatoes (our contribution to Thanksgiving dinner), which later became a pie. A nice big pot of chili, which we ate for several days and fed the last little bit to the chickens, who were highly appreciative.

Notes: We're still not up to par from the flu—neither of us feels like doing much, so we haven't been. It's good to have things in the pantry . . . and John's brother-in-law shot a deer for us this past weekend when he went hunting down in Vance County. It's not a big one, and we still have deer shoulder and round steaks from last year in the freezer, so I think we'll get a piece of beef with a fair amount of fat on it and grind them together to make sausage, and freeze it in packs of half-a-dozen patties. And maybe make some more jerky, too. I splurged last week and bought enough ground beef to make a bunch of hamburger patties—we ate two for supper the other night and the rest are in the refrigerator for lunches—and a pound of sandwich ham (on sale) and sliced cheese; we're both tired of cooking and wanted a change.

Other than that, what have we done lately? Not much. Cleaned up a bit in the yard, but it's still so warm things aren't dying back yet, and I hate to cut down the flower/weed seed heads until January or so to give the birds a chance to eat what they want. The peppermint has come back up, and the pineapple sage—from which I carefully picked all the leaves before the freezing night we had a couple of weeks ago—has leafed out again. Tulips are peeking up. Not good. It's forecast to get down in the twenties by the weekend, so we shall see what happens to everything then.

Found out what has been happening to the chickens (we've lost half the flock this year!)—John shot two big male raccoons and a big opossum. One raccoon caught in the act, and the other two trying to be. All is quiet now, so far, though we are down to only three dozen or so chickens; hardly enough to sell eggs, but more than we need to supply ourselves. (The feed bill is lower, though . . . ) I hated to kill them, but this is not a cafeteria.

We acquired a turkey yesterday—one of them kept flying over the garden fence and wandering around in the yard. John chased it back a couple of times, then it went up the road to the neighhbors, who called us to come and get it; after taking stock, we discovered that all *our* turkeys were accounted for, and this was apparently an escaped one (possibly from up the road) who had come visiting. So we clipped her wings and put her in the garden with the other turkeys, and we'll see what happens.

Many squirrels in the yard. Many blue jays, titmice,  chickadees . . . cardinals and bluebirds are mostly in the woods still, and the goldfinches are busy eating goldenrd seed and haven't come to the feeders yet. We have what is apparently a family group of mockingbirds (there are three together, and they're fiercely territorial, so I presume they are related) who come to the weeping cherry sometimes. There's a flock of eight or ten doves that come in and eat the seed the squirrels spill from the feeders. I saw the pileated woodpecker in the side yard last week, working on a tree about twenty feet from the house. And the hairy woodpecker (the black and white one with the bloodred cap and throat, not the little downy with only a red cap) has taken to hanging upside down on the pokeberry bush outside my window, dangling from the tip of a spray of berries and gobbling his way up.

I've been working on gifts—I have all the raw materials in The Stash; now to get them done. And there is the giant pile of goodwill and book-sale books, from which I shall choose several to give away. I am buying a couple of things, but only a couple. Adults get bread-and-jam baskets, children get [mostly] what I can make, and a few books. We have a tree—a lovely symmetrical three-foot one, which will sit on the round table so as to be out of the cats' reach (no sense in putting temptation right down in their faces), and which cost a mere $10 at the produce stand (and which I will get back on Thursday, when I sell David his weekly bread order). It's currently residing in a bucket of water on the side porch; we'll put it up (well, technically *I* will put it up; John only hauls the box of ornaments down from the attic) on Yule, probably. That way I can leave it up until Twelfth Night, so I can enjoy it after all the hoorah has died down.

So. There you are. Not much going on here, which is fine with me. I got a clean bill of health at the dentist last week; that appoitnment, plus renewing various magazine subscriptions—which all seem to come due t once—is why we're seriously broke this month. (But at least the $140 set of xrays can be put off until the next appointment.) But we have plenty of food for all and sundry and wood for the stove, I have a scarf in the works, and directions for another one I want to make as soon as I get down to the yarn store to buy three skeins of wool, and I have borrowed Edwin Way Teale's Circle of the Seasons from Mom (I had to promise to bring it back within a month; she didn't want to part with it. She knows me.), AND I am next on the list for Artisan Bread in Five Minutes at the library . . . 

 

This was a couple of days after I'd planted them, a week or so ago. They've filled out considerably since them, with more blooms; I'm enjoying them a great deal.

Independence Days Update

For Sharon's Independence Days Challenge.

1. plant something: Nothing this week. Need to get the garlic in the ground, but I doubt it would be improved by my sneezing all over it . . .

2. harvest something:  Only eggs this week—new small ones, so the new hens are beginning to lay. Which is good, because nearly all the old ones have gone missing. A fox has been seen . . . not good. Also a turkey egg a day!

3. preserve something: Froze bananas for later banana bread. Dried lemon verbena leaves from plants I brought inside, which promptly dropped 99% of their leaves. Dried the last few hot peppers.

4. reduce waste: The usual: recycling (plastic, cat food cans, milk jugs). Continuing to use clothesline instead of dryer. Emptied the rest of the pots and piled dead plant material on compost (sort of) heap.

5. preparation and storage: More wood on porch (handy, since it's raining buckets today—not cold, but damp, and a little fire in the stove keeps our collective arthritis at a bearable level). Bought a bottle of Sambucol and a packet of Oscillo in case of future flu attacks. (I'm thinking that flu is what we've had, but who knows?) Will buy more as soon as the SS check gets here . . . also another bottle of Echinacea/Goldenseal capsules. Dried elderberries to tincture are here, as is boneset for tea. Elderberry concentrate on order (we have jelly orders, but I plan to use some to make syrup. I really wish we could grow elderberries, but we've tried and they just die. Pooh.). Need another bottle (or maybe two) of vodka, when check arrives. Bought several bales of shavings to rebed chicken houses during the winter, and straw to put underneath for them to poke around in when the weather's bad. Added rice (white) to storage. I try to use brown, but it never hurts to have some that will keep forever.

6. build community food systems: Still staying home with our germs (other than my lab appointment last week, for the semi-annual A1c). Making plans to give homemade food or one sort or another for Christmas this year.

7. eat the food: Homemade bread, as always. Chili we made a month or two ago and froze in 2-person lots. (I think there is one more in the freezer; time to make another batch.) Organic chicken from grocery store sale—roasted one night, then chicken casserole another (comfort food; the recipe starts with a can of cream of chicken soup . . . but my grandmother used to make it, and the mental effect outweighs the ingestion of commercial soup and mayonnaise. I think.), and there's a big jar of chicken stock in the refrigerator for soup this week. Beef liver from the freezer, home fries from our potatoes. Waldorf salad using Honeycrisp apples and walnuts from storage (I regret to admit that John didn't get any of this; he wasn't quick enough).

Notes: I've spent the week making costumes, which I'd intended to do the week I got sick . . . everything is boxed up and ready to mail today. Right down to the wire, as usual—thanks for Priority Mail! I took pictures, but they aren't the sort that photograph well without a child inside. Hopefully I will get pictures next week (yes, Karolyn, this means you!) . . . And since I was paying for Priority boxes, there are various candy goodies (a gummy coral snake for Emma, a gigantic rubbery-gooey tarantula for Riley, Peeps and wax lips for everyone), light sticks, plastic bat-and-spider rings, and Riley's giant plastic dinosaur, that I never got mailed for his birthday (in June), and Eliza's pink and white skirt that has been languishing here since May, and a pile of Ramona books for her, and a couple of story books I've been saving for Emma, and a beanbag Halloween cat  . . . might as well get my money's worth!

We bought straw yesterday and spread a couple of bales under the chicken house, a couple of bales under the turkey house where the goats winter, and a bale in the hovel for them to poke around in. Also put another layer of shavings in both houses and more in the nesting boxes, now that a few hens have begun to  lay. All the old hens that were still laying have suddenly disappeared, and there are no bodies, so we suspect a fox (or possibly foxes). One of the neighbors said he saw a fox down in the back lot during the summer. Could be coyotes—lots of people up here have coyote trouble, but we haven't so far, and I've not heard any. At any rate, all the young chickens (and the turkeys) have been moved into the garden for the winter, and the big door to the lower house shut, just in case. One of hen turkeys has been laying out in the garden under a bush, as turkeys are wont to do when left to their own devices; we've put a wooden egg in her 'nest' and so far it's working. An egg a day this week!

Persimmons are getting ripe; there are half a dozen on each of our young trees, and last time we checke the tree at John's mothers it was loaded. A good frost and they should be ready—persimmon pudding! Persimmons in the freezer!

Color, finally, all in a week—the maples and oaks have turned, the weeping cherry is a rusty red and orange, and the hickory tree behind the house is a glorious gold, and so is the big chestnut in front. Everywhere I look is color! Today it's raining, hard sometimes, so probably all the leaves will drop abruptly, but I've enoyed them this past week or so. I spent some little over the weekend out in a chair in the side yard, watching the birds and squirrels pillage the feeders and the leaves spiralling down . . . I justified it by claiming to be convalescing and getting my dose of Vitamin D, complete with cat-on-lap. 

I do love fall. It's so beautiful, and over so very quickly. As Frost said, though in another context, "Nothing gold can stay." So we had best enjoy it while it's here, no matter that the country—and the whole world—is descending into god-knows-what, that our world is changing rapidly and not for the better, that life is becoming more uncertain by the day . . . all we have is this moment, right here, right now, and it's a shame to let it pass without acknowledgement.

Especially when the kettle is hot, the cats are draped sleeping over every possible flat surface (and a couple that aren't), and there is a handful of [forbidden] leftover candy corn . . . 

 

Independence Days Update

For Sharon's Independence Days Challenge.

1. plant something: Nothing this week.

2. harvest something:  A few chicken eggs—the hens don't like fall so far, and have pretty much ceased laying in protest—and one turkey egg. The last of the peppers. Texas tarragon leaves. Seeds from various flowers. A few green onions that had somehow gotten missed. Two carrots the size of my thumb. (The carrot crop was a bust this year, due to all that rain, but those two sure were good.) Leaves from pineapple sage. What was left of the field corn, after raccoons and windstorms—two buckets sitting on porch waiting to be shucked and turned into hominy.

3. preserve something: Dried a few more peppers. Saved seeds from cushaw mentioned in the last update, as well as flowers and herbs that had gone to seed. Making hot vinegar with the last of the hot peppers, a few onions, a few shallots, a couple of heads of garlic. Making, also, faux-tarragon vinegar with leaves from Texas Tarragon. Infused pineapple sage leaves in apple juice, which is now residing in the refrigerator, waiting to be made into jelly. Was given three big bunches of ripe bananas, which will be ready to freeze for banana bread in a couple of days.

4. reduce waste: The usual: recycling (plastic, cat food cans, milk jugs). Continuing to use clothesline instead of dryer. Frostbitten peppers plants, etc. all piled on pile of fill dirt I'm working on turning into productive soil, to rot over the winter. Discovered a jar of pecan pieces was infested with some sort of moths, so fed them to the chickens (pecans and moths). Pulled up millet growing under the bird feeders and fed it to William, who was highly appreciative, even though he would have preferred alfalfa cubes. Turned chickens into the garden (no fall garden this year; nothing came up, so we opted for fertilizer instead) where they can eat what greenery is left and all the weed seeds they can find.

5. preparation and storage: Bought a bushel of Honeycrisps despite the price. We did better than expected at the festival, so I spent some on apples. :) Began stacking wood on the porch, just in case bad weather comes early. (Frost last night, which is pretty early for us.) We've both had nasty colds for about a week and a half, so nothing much has gotten done. (Well, nothing much other than whining . . . ) Restocked cat food, oatmeal, raisins. Finished hauling books to used book store (for credit, not cash—they give more that way), and now have approximately $275 book credit. 

6. build community food systems: Nothing in particular. Unless, of course, keeping one's germs at home and to oneself counts . . .

7. eat the food: Homemade bread, as always. Pilaf made in the rice cooker—brown rice, dried apricots, chicken stock, slivered almonds and red onion. Baked apples. Lots of odds and ends, since no one felt like cooking . . . or eating much, either. Slaw, which I ate most of when I was sick. 

Notes: We took John's mother to a reunion Sunday before last, and then all three of us came down with nasty colds. (I knew I should have stayed home . . . ) I'm mostly over mine, John's is still icky, and Iva's is worst, but she's old and it always takes her forever to get over things. I have pictures—it was up in Madison County, and the color was pretty—but I have to get them out of the camera and saved . . . maybe this week sometime.

The Great Chicken Drive is over—fortunately, it happened the day before we got sick—and the chickens are happily installed in the garden, while the goats and William are not-so-happily barred from the chicken lot for the winter, but are making do by eating dead leaves all up and down the back hill. There are still, I think, three chickens in the goat lot, but they refuse to be driven or caught, so I suppose they can just winter there.

Finally finished the doll wardrobe for Mom and Daddy's church bazaar raffle. (Album of photos on the left-hand sidebar.) Here is Emily:

 

I've begun the Halloween costumes: Eliza's black cat hood is finished, her tail is waiting to be stuffed, and I have orange satin and black ball fringe for a little circle skirt. Riley's pumpkin is cut out and waiting to be sewn. I need to wash the white velour part of Emma's panda—someone slept on it and it's rather hairy—before I cut it out, but the black is OK. My aim is to get them all sewn and ready to mail (priority) on Monday next, along with some books and whatnot.

And now I suppose I'd better go stack some more wood. There is a chicken in the oven—I'm using ames Beard's long-cooking method, wrapped in foil and roasted at 250° for 4-5 hours. I filled it with a quartered lemon, some thyme, and half a dozen cloves of garlic, and it smells very good indeed. And I think, when it's finished, I'll make a custard, since we have too many eggs to eat but not enough to sell until the young hens begin to lay. But, for now, wood . . .

Independence Days Update

For Sharon's Independence Days Challenge.

1. plant something: Nothing this week.

2. harvest something:  A few hot peppers. A few eggs. A few figs. The rest of the potatoes—we had eleven 50' rows and we harvested 6 bushels. I'm not sure whether that's good or not-so-good, but it should do us most of the winter. There are only two of us. On the other hand, we both love potatoes . . . I had planted some shiso—we harvested a few leaves, tasted, and decided that the chickens could have the rest. Live and learn.

3. preserve something: Dried more peppers, more figs. Dried thyme and the last of the cutting celery. Cooked and froze a cushaw that had been stored, but must have gotten bumped somewhere along the line, for it had developed a bad spot.

4. reduce waste: The usual: recycling (plastic, cat food cans, milk jugs). Continuing to use clothesline instead of dryer. Rainy off and on, but I did get a little more weeding done—free chicken feed. Now that it's cool enough for a fire in the evening, I've recycled three plastic milk jugs to hold water for filling the pot on the woodstove. Also, now we can burn all paper trash, cardboard, etc.

5. preparation and storage: Restocked flour buckets. Added more [good] olive oil, tuna, sardines (I suppose John could live without sardines, but it wouldn't be pleasant), oatmeal, barley to storage. Ran across 6 yards of fairly heavy twill for only $2.99 a yard, so bought and stashed it for pants or jackets later, if necessary.Gathered all the oddments of band-aids and gauze pads, etc. together in a plastic box, which is now on the shelves with the medicines. Ordered boneset and dried elderberries to make cold/flu medicines. (We're planning to go to the doctor if we get the flu, but it never hurts to have another string or two to one's bow.) Also added a box of ginger tea. Bought three bushels (well, actually a bit over three bushels—they're in onion bags. Maybe three and a half.) of Rome apples for applesauce. Just picked the day before, so they'll keep until we get around to them. $10 a bushel! There are no Wolf Rivers or King Luscious on the market here this year. I'd really love to have a bushel of Honeycrisps, just because I really, really like them, but they're going for $25 a bushel at the farmers' market. Maybe I can scrounge up enough for half a bushel . . . Also added some alpaca yarn to the stash—from a local farmer—which is why I don't have money right now for a bushel of Honeycrisps. Took more books to the used book store for trade credits—four bags traded so far, and we have $100 and change in credit for winter reading, and still four bags of books to take in. What they don't take will go to the library for their book sale, or to goodwill, or I may just let the bookstore put them in their free box.

6. build community food systems: Nothing in particular, but we sold bread and cookies at a local festival last weekend, and what didn't sell went to various acquaintances.

7. eat the food: Homemade bread, as always. Refrigerator-cleaning soup: this time it included a couple of leeks, hearts of something that John bought at market (those little bullet-shaped ones), a package of scallops that needed to be used, a potato or two, a piece of codfish, and a few other odds and ends. The tail end of last week's pot roast, cooked with a few mushrooms, an onion and some garlic and eaten over rice.

Notes: Laundry is caught up, rugs washed; still need to wash the comforter and a blanket or two—next sunny spell. I bought several yards of costume satin while it's half off, enough to make Eliza a pretty dress for her birthday in December, and party dresses for her dolls for Christmas. Finishing up the raffle doll's wardrobe this week, so I can take pictures before I deliver her to Mom next weekend. The crochet sweater for Warm Woolies is finished but for buttons, and I've got 8 inches or so done on the baby blanket. Next on the agenda is Halloween costumes—I have everything together; now I need to cut them out, as soon as there are no cats on the bed.

Birds this week: three mockingbirds in the weeping cherry. By their behavior, I'd say they were a family group: Junior harassing Mom for food, and Dad trying to look as if he didn't know who they were. Eventually two of them went down into the tree and ate cherries, and the other one flew into the pokeweed by the window. Earl was sitting on the counter, and spotted him—the window was open, so he climbed onto the sill and they watched each other for several minutes before the mockingbird decided he'd find another pokeweed for his dinner.

This morning there were a pair of wrens on the side porch, up on the roof beams, quarelling and complaining because there was a cat on the porch. The hummingbird is still here, but I imagine she will be gone south in another week or so. A couple of days ago I looked out and the pileated woodpecker was working away on a tree not twenty feet from the house! He's gorgeous; I wish I spotted him more often. Usually I only hear him down in the woods.The squirrels are busy gathering walnuts and hiding them, which of course means that we will spend next summer pulling tiny walnut trees out of everything, but they're fun to watch.

I'm rearranging things in the 'library', because that's the only room I can winter plants over in. I wish I had an enclosed porch, but I don't, and the rest of the house faces north (and they're little windows, too). Only the library room and the back room where we basically live face south, and the back room is too warm since the stove is there. Good for amaryllis and things like asparagus ferns and spider plants, but not good for geraniums or ferns or the lemon verbena I'm going to attempt to winter over this year. I think I will just let the geraniums go, since I can get them at cost from John's sister who runs a greenhouse; I'll try to winter over my citronella geranium, the lemon verbena, the fern that was my grandmother's (that I wish would just die and get it over with, but it won't, and I can't bear to just kill it), the lemongrass (that one can go in the back room; it lived there last winter, despite being gnawed on by cats), a catnip plant or two, and some of the snake plants (there are too many of them now; three pots is a gracious plenty, so they'll need to be repotted before I bring them in, and John will have to help me. They're too unwieldy for one person, at least if that person is me.); and there are some amaryllis bulbs that John saved from last year, but I don't know where he stashed them. Perhaps he does.

I've brought the hanging baskets in off the porch (two asparagus ferns, a philodendron, a spider plant, and something else—I think it's another philodendron, but I'm not sure). Now I need to bring the rest in, move the pots out of the way, and clean one side off so we can stack wood there. The other side has the fans-on-sticks sitting on it, waiting to be vacuumed and stashed somewhere for the winter. Now that we've sold or eaten most of the jam left from market, there ought to be room in the wellhouse for them. I hope so; it will be a lot easier than maneuvering them up into the attic. And we need to clean off the front porch. Again.

Because, as usual, it is full of stuff that needs to go somewhere else. Including Mr. Poozle, who has adopted this box as his very own.

Independence Days Update

For Sharon's Independence Days Challenge.

1. plant something: Not this week.

2. harvest something:  A few hot peppers. Potatoes. A few eggs. Figs, here and there. Raspberry leaves, goldenrod blooms.

3. preserve something: Tinctured goldenrod and raspberry leaves (not together). Dried peppers and figs in the dehydrator.

4. reduce waste: The usual: recycling (plastic, cat food cans, milk jugs). Continuing to use clothesline instead of dryer. Saving cardboard/waste paper for firestarting this winter. Donated the box of Lapidary Journals to the Old Fort Library book sale, and received from Mom a stack of vintage Christmas magazines, a small square Weave-It loom (remember those? I do, barely.), egg cartons to recycle, and a lovely piece of tan faux-suede, which I unfortunately left there. Finally dry enough to do some more weeding, which went to the goats and chickens.

5. preparation and storage: In the process of storing potatoes (in a clothes basket in the living room for now, since that's the coolest place in the house), onions, winter squash. Bought a few more winter squash for storage. Stocked up on dry cat food. Restocked vitamins at Rite-Aid's Buy One Get One Free sale. Unearthed the box with winter hats, scarves, gloves in it.

6. build community food systems: Shared persimmon pudding with Mom.

7. eat the food: Homemade bread. Cubed steak with mushroom gravy and mashed potatoes. Persimmon pudding (frozen persimmons from year before last).

Notes: Another 2.5 inches of rain on Saturday, and then glorious sunshine! All week, apparently—I can get the laundry caught up and some weeding done. Today, though, after weeding enough to feed the chickens and goats, we took off for the river. We haven't been all summer, partly because there are too many people on the trail in the summer, and partly because it's hot and mosquito-y, and I can have both of those at home. Anyway, today we went walking for a couple of hours and came home aching (boy, are we out of shape! I jammed one toe against the end of my boot and it's swollen and hurting. But this will pass.) but refreshed and peaceful. Plus, there were cows on the trail! Very large cows.

I've nearly finished with the doll's wardrobe I'm making for Mom and Daddy's church bazaar—still need to make her a cape and a party dress of some sort, and I'm done. (Then I need to dress her up in everything and take pictures . . . ) Then costumes, then Christmas gifts . . .

I'm sorting through the books, gradually; so far we have four bags and a box to take the used book store, to trade in for winter credit. I think they'll probably take three-quarters of them and the rest can go into their free box. I also have several bags of John's too-big pants to go to Goodwill next time I get down that way. And a stack of old magazines to go to the library. I'm going to have go on a donating trip one of these days.

And look what has bloomed!

We've been attempting to grow moonvines for a couple of years now, and this year we finally succeeded!

Independence Days Update

For Sharon's Independence Days Challenge.

1. plant something: Nothing—it's been raining all week.

2. harvest something:  A few hot peppers. Chestnuts. (Nearly four gallons stored in the freezer.)

3. preserve something: Finally got all the peppers dried, by way of the electric dehydrator . . .

4. reduce waste: The usual: recycling (plastic, cat food cans, milk jugs). Continuing to use clothesline instead of dryer. Saving cardboard/waste paper for firestarting this winter. Sorted through old magazines and have an entire box (several years' worth) of Lapidary Journal to donate to the library. Also have a slew of old Somerset Studios and Cloth Paper Scissors art/craft magazines, but I'm not sure yet what to do with them. I could sell them on eBay, but I really don't want to hassle with it. Maybe I'll talk to the library people about selling them—if they don't want to, maybe the Old Fort library would like to have them; their next sale is in October, I think.

5. preparation and storage: Nothing this week. I've been sorting in the pantry. (I did go to Walmart and buy three plastic fishing tackle storage boxes to sort my embroidery floss and buttons into, but that's about it.)

6. build community food systems: Nothing this week.

7. eat the food: Homemade bread. Shortbread cookies with pecans—good, but need just a little more sugar. Cheese balls. Pinto beans with chili from the freezer. John's great slaw. And this morning we had homemade chicken biscuits.

Notes: I just haven't been very productive this week. It's been raining since Tuesday night, steadily since Saturday. We had 1.75 inches by Friday; the rain gauge now stands at 7.25 inches, and we are under flood and landslide warnings. The chicken lot is a sea of mud, the goats are marooned in their shelter under the big chicken house where it's dry, and anyone who is foolhardy enough to go into the garden is in danger of sinking up to  his or her shoetops. (Remember the Anderson fairy tale of The Red Shoes?) The cats are like a bunch of bored five-year-olds: I'm bored, I'm tired of rain, I want to go outside . . . which they do, and promptly retreat back inside, bringing water and mud and wet leaves with them. Everything is horribly damp. It's too cool to turn on a fan and too warm for a fire. (There. Have I whined enough now? Really, I'm trying very hard to be thankful that we aren't in a drought situation any longer, and that the water table is being replenished, but it's getting difficult!)I see no signs of puddles, either, except in areas where it's runoff from paving, and in the low place in the neighbor's driveway, and a few places where there are heavy drips from the roof—so it's sinking into the ground.

Other than watch it rain and clean up after the cats, I haven't done very much. A little sewing (see: Archie), some cooking, lots of reading, some sorting of various piles of stuff . . .

Maybe next week.

Independence Days Update

For Sharon's Independence Days Challenge.

1. plant something: Seven cabbage plants in pots. I had nine, so I stuck the other two in the flower bed. Chrysanthemums for fall color in the flower bed we can see from the side porch. Spinach and other winter greens.

2. harvest something:  More hot peppers (cayennes, jalapenos) and one bell pepper. The last few cherry tomatoes. The last of the basil. Fennel seeds. Chicken eggs, one turkey egg. Russian fingerling potatoes, which are, IMHO, a waste of space unless they taste very very good—I'd rather have another row of Kennebecs next year. Kennebecs and Yukon Golds. Six more figs (Emma was here on Saturday, discovered that she likes figs, and was greatly disappointed to discover no more ripe ones.) Chestnuts! (nearly two gallons in the freezer so far, and they're still falling.)

3. preserve something: Dried basil, hot peppers. Still searching for a good place to store potatoes—I'm leaning towards baskets in the [erstwhile] living room; it's the coldest room of the four.

4. reduce waste: The usual: recycling (plastic, cat food cans, milk jugs). Continuing to use clothesline instead of dryer. Saving cardboard/waste paper for firestarting this winter. Have three good-sized bags of clothes for either Goodwill or the shelter, in the car and waiting until we get down that way. Also have several pairs of John's jeans too stained to give away, but too big for him to wear comfortably, which will do nicely for patching material. Still need to go through my clothes and do something with those too worn to use any longer (probably a bunch of tank tops, and several shirts that are now too big). We're in the process, also, of sorting through the books (which means there are toppling piles everywhere); so far I have four bags and a box in the car to go to the used book store for credit. Winter reading.

5. preparation and storage: Refilled flour buckets after the week's baking. (I'm trying to keep them mostly full, instead of waiting until the end of the month to refill.) Also topped off dry cat food storage, and bought another case of canned food instead of waiting until EOM. (Attempting to keep enough for 2-3 weeks AT ALL TIMES.) Added canned fruit to storage. Bought a couple of winter squashes while they're on sale, since ours did nothing this year. (drowned, probably)

6. build community food systems: Nothing this week.

7. eat the food: Homemade bread. A big batch of John's spaghetti sauce with meatballs, mostly eaten on Saturday, but with a bit left for a lunch. Leftovers, as usual. Tried a new cookie recipe, here, and it was good. Very good. I have a largish jar of pecans that need using up, so I think I will try it again but with only pecans this time.

Notes: Spent one afternoon cleaning up my container garden—emptying pots, disposing of plants that have run their course, putting in some fall flowers and a few vegetables, spreading mulch . . . things look much tidier now. White flies are a problem for my porch geraniums, but I've sprayed them with insecticidal soap, and that's as much as I intend to do. I probably won't try to winter them over this year unless I can get rid of the flies.

Discovered that we have many chestnuts this year—there's plenty to eat in the woods this year, so the squirrels are mostly busy elsewhere (like in the hickory tree, but they're welcome to those; they're not only difficult to crack, we wouldn't have enough to do anything with since we only have the one tree). Chestnuts fall all day long, so I just go out a couple of times a day with a basket and pick up whatever's there. (And try to avoid the poison ivy . . . ) So far I've put two mostly-full (so they will lie flat) gallon bags in the freezer, and there are still scads of nuts on the tree. I also have a nasty-looking bruise and scrape on one cheek where I straightened up too quickly and ran into a broken branch, but it looks worse than it is. Mr. Poozle, who supervises all chestnut gathering, was solicitous.

The fences are either mended (the hole in the chicken lot, where every single goat escaped out into the garden, and stood there looking amazed until John got them back in), or shored up (the four panels where the big pine tree fell, and the two panels on the other side where what we think was a bear went over and mushed it) and waiting to be mended. This was going to be accomplished last Friday, but it rained . . . . so we ran a few errands, went to Nancy's for lunch, and went to Goodwill, where we purchased new winter clothes (pants and flannel shirts for John, a couple of long skirts and three sweaters for me), as well as miscellaneous cups that I'm planning to turn into pincushions, several books for Eliza and Riley—including a Richard Scarry Busy World book—and a couple of wool skirts for cutting up and making things.

Emma and crew visited on Saturday, so there was goat (and sheep) feeding and eating figs (see above) and spaghetti and meatballs (and drinking one's milk from the rabbit mug), and drawing pictures. And measuring—it's time to be thinking about Halloween costumes. Emma will be a panda bear, Eliza will be a black cat, and Riley will be a pumpkin. Time to get out the box of costume patterns (I ought to be able to use the pattern from Eliza's lion costume to make a cat hood and tail, and there may be a panda pattern in there too.), check when the next 99-cent pattern sale is on, and go through the fabric boxes. I will have to buy fabric this year, but I'm planning to get panne velour, 60" wide and $5.99 a yard, for everything. $20 should do it, I think. And a yard of orange satin to make Eliza a little twirly skirt—she'll be wearing tights and a leotard with her hood and tail. I have a jelly roll of Halloween fabric strips, and I'm planning to try my hand at piecing trick-or-treat bags for all three of them.

The goldfinches have finished nesting and are back at the feeders, with youngsters in tow. The grackles have moved on and the crows are back (they nest further up the valley, in a big pine thicket); we hear them every morning. The weeping cherry is full of cardinals and sparrows, eating the tiny cherries that are still on the branch. And the pokeberries are mostly ripe, so soon I will be able to look out my workroom windows and watch them eating those.

Jane has gone missing since Friday evening. The neighbors have seen a big fox down in the back lot, and that's where she liked to spend her time (and she's the only one of them who goes down there much, other than Sam when he is patrolling the goat lot), so I suspect we are now down to only ten cats. She may yet show up—she's the one who will stay out for two or three days and nights and then come in being lovey—but I doubt it. This time it feels different, empty, as if she's really gone.

I happened to be at PetSmart last week while they had a cat adoption day going on—so many lovely kittens! These were from Brother Wolf Canine Rescue, which rescues from the animal shelter (and they also save cats, obviously); I'll know where to look when we're ready for another little one. Assuming one doesn't show up here, that is—I've never yet had to go looking for a cat!

Independence Days #15

For Sharon's Independence Days Challenge.

1. plant something: Nothing this week, but John is in the process of clearing a space for fall stuff. We have starts for cabbage, broccoli, collards, and seeds for several new greens. And garlic bulbs ordered for later.

2. harvest something:  Tomatoes.  (The patio tomatoes apparently have the late season blight, so they are about finished, but there are still some in the garden, and scattered here and there in the flowerbeds. When it comes to tomato starts, we suffer from eyes-bigger-than-stomach syndrome.) The last pattypan squash. Bell peppers, hot peppers. Shallots. Greasy cut-short beans. (A bushel! I spent Friday on the porch with beans . . . ) Okra. Cherry tomatoes. Dill seeds. Blackberries. Shallots. Apparently there will be no winter squash this year, dammit!

3. preserve something: Canned 13 pints/11 quarts green beans, 12 pints spaghetti/pizza sauce (tomatoes, garlic, onions, herbs all from the garden). 24 half-pints blackberry jam. (This makes 42 jars altogether, 24 of which we've sold.)

4. reduce waste: The usual: recycling (plastic, cat food cans, milk jugs). WEEDING/feeding to goats and chickens. Continuing to use clothesline instead of dryer. Saving cardboard/waste paper for firestarting this winter. Used the rest of the tomato paste. Gathered up the 18 or so milk jugs I'd been using for watering the side garden, rinsed and strung on twine and hung them off the back porch; I'll use them this winter to tote hot water to thaw chicken waterers. Also gathered up several cat litter boxes (the big plastic ones) I'd been using to store various things outside, washed them and stored cat food in them. (Now we have a large tacky stack of cat litter boxes in bright yellow and blue down the hall. Oh, well. The living room is now known as the "room of orange buckets," after all. Fortunately, no one ever comes to visit; we go to see them.)

5. preparation and storage: Added 1/2 gallon jars of raisins and walnuts to storage. (Well, the walnuts are not precisely storage, since I used them fairly often, but I buy five pounds at a time so there are plenty.) Discovered five pounds of brown rice I'd not known we had, all still nicely sealed in airtight plastic; we'll use it now and store what I bought last week. Bought more olive oil, flour. Added a couple of pounds of ground local lamb to freezer.

6. build community food systems: Shared homemade bread (besides what I sell). Patronized local tailgate markets.

7. eat the food: Local lamb (rib chops—mmm!). Vegetables from garden—last night's supper: leftover pot roast, cabbage and onions (from garden), tomatoes (from garden), fried squash (from garden) . . . ) Peach/blueberry crisp. (We grew neither, but they were locally grown.) A big pot of vegetable soup. Corn chowder, made with local corn, our potatoes/onions, and a leek from the grocery store. Local beets—tiny, boiled, skinned and then slathered with butter and salted.

Notes: Need to sort through the fall seeds this week. We are (well, John is, actually; I am cheering him on from the relative comfort of the house) in the process of cleaning out the top of the garden in preparation for fall planting. It has reached the point where the goats just look at him when he brings down another barrow of weeds—oh, my, more green stuff . . . but we're full! The chickens, however, are continuously enthusiastic. We spent one entire morning last week down in the back yard, weeding and cleaning up. I uncovered several previously undiscovered St. John's wort plants, a few foxgloves, and found that the lilies of the valley have berries on them—who knew? The thistles have bloomed and gone to seed, and the female goldfinches have disappeared; nesting must have begun. The junior bluejays are finally quiet. The grackles arrived en masse last week, so I was forced to bring in the feeders with perching areas and foray down to Lowe's for a couple of tube feeders and a bag of safflower seeds, which they are reputed not to like. It seems to have worked; the other birds are still here, but the grackles' numbers have diminished from a hundred or so to half a dozen, poking around disconsolately in the bits of seed on the ground . . . they should be migrating soon. I hope.

There are actually figs on the tree! Maybe three dozen, various sizes . . . now if they will only get ripe. I could surprise Mom with them—for me, fresh figs are right up there with wet cardboard, but she loves them.

I've thought of a use for my old plastic cat litter containers. Another use, to be precise; I already use them for storing dry cat food, storing old seeds, storing various things outside . . . I'd been buying litter in cardboard containers, so as not to be buying plastic (except when I needed a container to store something), but it occurred to me last week that if I bought the plastic buckets, I could reuse them as planters next year. The new containers are shorter and fatter, which will work nicely if I take off the lids and handles (or maybe just the lids?). We buy a couple of boxes a month during the winter, and one a month even in the summer—the old ladies don't like to go outside and get their petticoats wet, and Earl is just plain too stubborn to go out if he doesn't feel like it—which would give me a dozen or so containers by next summer, and mean that many fewer pots to come up with.

We've had temperatures up near 90 this last week, and lots of humidity, so I haven't done a great deal. Some sewing—I finished one apron for Mom, and have another cut out and ready to sew—and I've been working on my baby blanket. Afghans for Afghans has put up their next campaign—baby blankets for the CURE hospital in Kabul, due in October—so I should have time to do another one, too. (I hope so, since I ordered the yarn for it and it arrived yesterday. Yellow, orangy-tan, and brown; I think I'll try a ripple this time.)

Photo from last week, when it was just a wee strip of crocheting.

There was a groundhog in the trap yesterday morning (which was unexpected, since it wasn't even baited; we'd just left it sitting in front of the hole). He (or she, perhaps) has now gone up to the Parkway, to do his part in making the area attractive to tourists by munching picturesquely by the road. What with that, and someone bringing in a live mouse at 4:0 in the morning and releasing it under the woodstove, yesterday was an exciting day. Hopefully today will be quieter . . .

We went to the quilt show at the Arboretum on Sunday, and had a good time looking at what everyone else has done this past year (and buying a little fabric, but just a little. And two patterns. And some silk ribbon. And that's all . . . ) We combined it with exercise; since we had to park in the far back lot, we walked up the trail through the woods to the exhibit hall. Half a mile, more or less, each way. So I felt virtuous. And sweaty.

And, for those interested in mayhem, here is a link to Brian's Facebook post about blowing up old computer drives with thermite. I am unclear whether you can see this if you aren't a Facebook member; if you can't, I apologize.

Pesto basil, which I bought at Herb Days primarily because I'd never heard of it. It tastes . . . well, odd, with a piny/resiny sort of undertone. I think I'll just cut the plants off and dry them (since it shows no signs of blooming any time soon) and see if it alters the taste any.

Independence Days #14

For Sharon's Independence Days Challenge.

1. plant something: Nothimg. But I have shiso, toy choi, chard, salad burnet all coming up nicely in various pots, and some ginger sprouts that I intend to plant just as soon as I empty the pot that had the cilantro in it . . . 

2. harvest something:  Tomatoes.  Yellow and pattypan squash. Eggs, both chicken and turkey. Parsley. Blackberries. Peppers. Grape tomatoes. Dill, basil, mint, oregano. Beans, finally. Peppers, both hot and sweet.

3. preserve something: Dried cutting celery, raspberry leaves, dill. Oven-roasted tomatoes did not work; I forgot that yellow tomatoes aren't acid enough to do without pressure canning. Canned 12 pints green beans, 12 pints and 3 quarts spaghetti/pizza sauce (tomatoes, garlic, onions, herbs all from the garden). 18 half-pints blackberry jam.

4. reduce waste: The usual: recycling (plastic, cat food cans, milk jugs). WEEDING/feeding to goats and chickens. Continuing to use clothesline instead of dryer. Saving cardboard/waste paper for firestarting this winter. Used up several old cans of tomato paste from storage in making spaghetti sauce.

5. preparation and storage: Added beans and rice to storage (repetitive, I know; but you can't have too many dried beans). Bought ten pounds of dried soybeans at the farmers' market for $2! (Old, package shopworn . . . who cares?)

6. build community food systems: Shared eggs with my mother and brother. Patronized local tailgate markets.

7. eat the food: More local corn—silver queen—and beans from the garden. Tomatoes and cucumbers and squash.  Local cantaloupes. Blackberry pie, made by John. South Carolina peaches. Turkey egg salad. Vegetable soup, from garden odds and ends.

Notes: We've spent the week mostly attempting to keep everything from mildewing, with only limited success. I hauled all John's boots out of the closet; they will have to be saddle-soaped and cleaned up. Finally, the sun is out today—we have clean dry sheets and towels, with clothing to be washed tomorrow before it begins raining again on Wednesday . . . I'm trying to be thankful that we're no longer in a drought situation, but it's getting more and more difficult. We did have one day of sun last week, so we got some beans. There are loads of blossoms, if these two days of sun will turn them into little beans. Please! The squash and cucumbers are done; I believe they drowned. I have no idea whether we'll have any winter squash or not. If not, I suppose I'll buy some at the tailgate for storage . . .

I cut the black raspberries back this week, and [belatedly] realized that I could dry the leaves for tea. So I did . . . I can also tincture them, I think; I need to look that up. There is also epazote in the back; I know it's used as a seasoning, dried, but I believe it's also a vermifuge. Must look that up, too. I spent three hours out weeding in the back this morning, and found lots of little St. John's wort plants, anise hyssop, queen anne's lace, foxgloves, a clump of chives, and something I planted two or three years ago and have forgotten the name of—it has reddish-purple leaves in a rosette and spikes of flowers, and appears to be spreading. Trimmed the weeping cherry; cut down several privets and lots of pokeweed; pulled out many, many Spanish needles before they go to seed and Sam gets them in his coat where they have to be cut out, leaving him looking like the victim of a small child with scissors . . .

This morning there were three downy woodpeckers at the feeders; apparently they have raised at least one young one. It was doing the usual "oh, I'm pitiful, I'm starving, feed me" thing, but the older two ignored it and it gave up eventually and ate some suet before they all flew away. The grackles, unfortunately, are still with us in all their multitudes, devouring everything in their path . . . I've noticed, though, that the crows are beginning to drift back and the grackles don't seem to like them.

I've been working on my summer project—the doll I'm dressing for my parents' church bazaar raffle this fall. So far she has a shorts set, two dresses, some underwear, a dress-and-apron combo, and a crocheted hat and scarf. Pictures soon, perhaps; I have some, but they're pretty large. I need to put them together or something so they don't eat up so much room. Also, I have finished my project for Kai's swap (only a week late, but Cherie is late, too, and we are in agreement that things will be sent when they are sent), of which there will be pictures when it gets where it's going. And I'm crocheting a baby blanket for the next afghans for Afghans campaign, whenever it gets underway.

And it's August. Finally July is over. Fall is on the way . . .