What would you like to read about first? What local foods we ate, or what wildlife we witnessed, while they ate our local "foods"? Got it. Write about what we saw eat, what we have not eaten. Does this make any sense?
I was originally going to post my Thanksgiving menu, first. It is my most unique, yet it is the most simple of any year. I was thinking about posting this unusual menu list as I was putting together the dinner this past Thursday. It was a two day process with pie baking and chestnut boiling started the day before followed by opening a few jars of red cabbage sauerkraut, apple sauce and bread and butter pickles the next. We used our own butternut squash, potatoes, carrots, onions, parsnip and green beans. The cranberries came from Hardwick, a few towns west of here. I had ordered a "farm fresh" turkey from the Jordon Farm, literally, just over the hill, in Rutland and picked it up on Wednesday. By Thursday, the chestnut stuffing was already made, along with a homemade pumpkin and apple pie. And, yes, these too, came from the garden- that is, the pumpkin and the apples. A homemade bread that I had used ground wheat from Four Star Farm out in western Massachusetts was warmed and sliced to go along with the meal.
Our dinner was almost ready to go on the table as it was becoming dusk. I was standing over the kitchen sink looking out over the garden as I love to do while my hands are doing something else in the sink. Kent happened to be looking outside at the time and called out to me that he had just seen a coyote near the northeast corner of the garden. For a moment, I thought I saw a slinking creature, but then it disappeared. When it reappeared out from the forest edge, it's features were not of a coyote, at all. Quietly it turned back, and then it turned again toward the garden. It's short little tail was the "tell tale" of who came to visit. It was a Bobcat! He was one very large Bobcat with a handsome cat face and large furry coat with huge paws. He became our Thanksgiving Day surprise. There seems to be always something. Last year, I decided to run at the local 'turkey trot' that started at 8am, the day before. The guys were all set to go and begged that I give it a try. I fell for the "last minute" decision.
I've seen Bobcat here before. They come around for the rabbits, mice and squirrel, I suspect. Rabbit is their favorite, I have read. We do have all those lovely rabbit families as neighbors. The news about the shortage of acorns in the region, is also true for our Oak trees. The nuts are almost non-existent. I can see the squirrels scrambling after the fallen rotted apples. I wonder if they are going after the apples because there is really not much else. I don't know. Any apples that have fallen inside of the garden fence are thrown back out for any of the creatures looking for food for the winter. However, the squirrels don't mind the fence. They'll climb up and down it for a rotten apple in a flash. The Bobcat didn't seem to be hunting at the moment that we saw him. He seemed like he was checking out the place for perhaps future hunts. He quietly slinked back into the woods. I waited until I couldn't see him anymore and then called everyone for Thanksgiving Dinner!
Thanksgiving is always lively and filling. We become filled with good company and good food. We don't want either to end. Kevin said today (Sunday), that we should have Thanksgiving every Thursday so that we could have left overs to last long enough to the next Thursday and then we could start over again! I never thought of that one.
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Monday, November 21, 2011
Starting with the end of the story, first.
My brother once played a joke on me when he asked me one day; "Wanna hear the shortest story ever told?" "Sure!", I piped back as I looked up at him enthusiastically. Even though, I was younger than he was by 7 years, I still could tell something wasn't going to be straight about his answer. "It goes like this," he started; "Once upon a time, there was an end!" Ha! Ha! We did both laugh. That was the silliest thing I had ever heard. Until now, it had no meaning.
The End of this story is; Here is the compost heap, now. Here is what should be the last picture, first.
The old heap was piled with mostly heavy sod clumps, old tomato vines, and cabbage leaves from the garden. It sat in the middle of the back part of the garden which had been at the end of the garden before the new fence was put up this past spring. Now, the heap was blocking a clear path from one side of the garden to the other. Not only that, it was next to a bee's nest which was discovered when my dear and willing son took on the task to move the old wire fencing that also surrounded this old heap which had to be moved first.
Cleverly, the bees must have found an old rabbit hole and made house in it. They were well hidden during the summer when fence row grasses and goldenrods covered their ground level hideout. When the old fence was pulled up over their hole, they got so riled up that they shot out with the intent to attack anything in site. People went leaping off and bees went whizzing off in frantic directions. It was awful and it took the bees the rest of that day to settle down. The bee stings took longer than that to settle. Oweee! Their sting hurts so intensely.
Anyway, I thought if I could move the heap to the back northeast corner of the garden, it would be the ideal place for it. Being November, the bees were dormant, so digging around them, now, and moving old wire fencing wouldn't be a problem.
The heap was originally over waist high. I knew it would be a physically demanding job because it was made up of mostly our heavy clay sod clumps. Though, with the garden cart and my pitch fork in hand, I was ready to take on the project. I started by taking off bits of sod and stems from the top of the heap. I loaded the cart, then took it to the corner about another 15 ft away. Not far. Then, I would do it again and again. Taking from the top reduced the heavy lifting of the sod clumps. I could only take one bit at a time. Slowly, I got closer to the bottom where I could push the pitch fork into the clumps a little deeper because they had started to break down. Then it happened.
Down went the pitch fork, then out and up it went with the composted sod clumps, as I had before. But, not this time. I stared in disbelief. I couldn't believe my eyes at what I had just done. For there skewered by my pitch fork was a mouse! I had blindly and unknowingly bludgeoned a mouse! My mouth dropped. Still in disbelief I edged him off and settled him outside the garden into a bed of leaves. I shook my head. How could I have done such a thing? Me?
I thought to myself, if someone told me that I would get a $1,000 bucks if I could throw my pitch fork into this compost pile and get a mouse with it, I would NEVER be able to make it happen. It wouldn't be. Not because I don't want to skewer a mouse, but because I'm a lousy shot. I would just keep missing or something like that. So, I realized that this was a one time thing and that I really needed to try and let it go. Innocence is virtuous. I truly didn't mean to get the mouse like that. So, I tried to feel better, and got back to my job. Cart load, after card load, I worked through the pile as the sun was falling from the autumn sky. The last slanted rays of the mid-November sun fell on this upper end of the garden. There was the pungent smell of the fallen leaves in the damp grass and sounds of crows taking to wing with that old familiar "caw" caaaaw." It was a beautiful late afternoon.
But, then you wouldn't believe what happened next.
I did it again! Yes, I did it again! Nooo! How could I do this?? I was completely stunned. This is absolutely impossible! Simply, unheard of.
(I could have made $2,000 bucks,too!)
So, this second little mouse was laid to rest with its family member. Leaves and grasses covered them both outside of the garden where you see the pitch fork in the picture.( That pitch fork looks nasty, doesn't it?) But, who would know what could lie within a compost pile? I, honestly, had NO idea! Now, it seems obvious.
The heap has been moved. It is in its better place. The mice are in their "better" place. The pitch fork has been put back into the shed, and so has the garden cart.
The bees are in their place and they will be down in there for the entire winter.
(Their hole is marked by the sticks and with one that fell across it.)
The story is about one old tangled wire fence, one hidden bee's nest, two bee stings, two pitch forked mice, and one old compost pile that needed to be moved to the corner of the garden.
This is the story about the end.
The End of this story is; Here is the compost heap, now. Here is what should be the last picture, first.
The old heap was piled with mostly heavy sod clumps, old tomato vines, and cabbage leaves from the garden. It sat in the middle of the back part of the garden which had been at the end of the garden before the new fence was put up this past spring. Now, the heap was blocking a clear path from one side of the garden to the other. Not only that, it was next to a bee's nest which was discovered when my dear and willing son took on the task to move the old wire fencing that also surrounded this old heap which had to be moved first.
Cleverly, the bees must have found an old rabbit hole and made house in it. They were well hidden during the summer when fence row grasses and goldenrods covered their ground level hideout. When the old fence was pulled up over their hole, they got so riled up that they shot out with the intent to attack anything in site. People went leaping off and bees went whizzing off in frantic directions. It was awful and it took the bees the rest of that day to settle down. The bee stings took longer than that to settle. Oweee! Their sting hurts so intensely.
Anyway, I thought if I could move the heap to the back northeast corner of the garden, it would be the ideal place for it. Being November, the bees were dormant, so digging around them, now, and moving old wire fencing wouldn't be a problem.
The heap was originally over waist high. I knew it would be a physically demanding job because it was made up of mostly our heavy clay sod clumps. Though, with the garden cart and my pitch fork in hand, I was ready to take on the project. I started by taking off bits of sod and stems from the top of the heap. I loaded the cart, then took it to the corner about another 15 ft away. Not far. Then, I would do it again and again. Taking from the top reduced the heavy lifting of the sod clumps. I could only take one bit at a time. Slowly, I got closer to the bottom where I could push the pitch fork into the clumps a little deeper because they had started to break down. Then it happened.
Down went the pitch fork, then out and up it went with the composted sod clumps, as I had before. But, not this time. I stared in disbelief. I couldn't believe my eyes at what I had just done. For there skewered by my pitch fork was a mouse! I had blindly and unknowingly bludgeoned a mouse! My mouth dropped. Still in disbelief I edged him off and settled him outside the garden into a bed of leaves. I shook my head. How could I have done such a thing? Me?
I thought to myself, if someone told me that I would get a $1,000 bucks if I could throw my pitch fork into this compost pile and get a mouse with it, I would NEVER be able to make it happen. It wouldn't be. Not because I don't want to skewer a mouse, but because I'm a lousy shot. I would just keep missing or something like that. So, I realized that this was a one time thing and that I really needed to try and let it go. Innocence is virtuous. I truly didn't mean to get the mouse like that. So, I tried to feel better, and got back to my job. Cart load, after card load, I worked through the pile as the sun was falling from the autumn sky. The last slanted rays of the mid-November sun fell on this upper end of the garden. There was the pungent smell of the fallen leaves in the damp grass and sounds of crows taking to wing with that old familiar "caw" caaaaw." It was a beautiful late afternoon.
But, then you wouldn't believe what happened next.
I did it again! Yes, I did it again! Nooo! How could I do this?? I was completely stunned. This is absolutely impossible! Simply, unheard of.
(I could have made $2,000 bucks,too!)
So, this second little mouse was laid to rest with its family member. Leaves and grasses covered them both outside of the garden where you see the pitch fork in the picture.( That pitch fork looks nasty, doesn't it?) But, who would know what could lie within a compost pile? I, honestly, had NO idea! Now, it seems obvious.
The heap has been moved. It is in its better place. The mice are in their "better" place. The pitch fork has been put back into the shed, and so has the garden cart.
The bees are in their place and they will be down in there for the entire winter.
(Their hole is marked by the sticks and with one that fell across it.)
The story is about one old tangled wire fence, one hidden bee's nest, two bee stings, two pitch forked mice, and one old compost pile that needed to be moved to the corner of the garden.
This is the story about the end.
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Apple Butter
Apple Butter.
Kevin, who is 11 years old, said that if he gave someone a jar of apple butter, they wouldn't know what to do with it. He believes no one he knows has ever heard of apple butter. I bet he's right.
And, there you have it.
The colors are captivating. Jars of apple butter are peaking through jars of red cabbage saurkraut. I made up 25, 8 oz. jars of apple butter over the weekend.
On Sunday, Kent's parents came over after a soccer game and we all had buttered home made bread spread with our own "falling apples farm" apple butter.
We've got to find a better name that this one!
Ta-Da!
25, 8 oz. jars of Apple Butter.
+4 lbs apples
local fresh apple cider
raw sugar
cinnamon
cloves
allspice
Cook slowly until thick.
So far, I have put up about a dozen pints. The rich golden brown color is so beautiful. I haven't ever seen commercial apple butter look like this. The flavor is also unbelievable.
I plan to tie the jars lids with jute string that have hand painted labels attached. I thought these could make lovely gifts for the season coming. Apple butter is tasty alternative to jam or jelly on a peanut butter sandwich. Or, it can be spread on buttered toast. Mmm, good. Kent spread apple butter on salmon the other night and grilled it. That was different. I was surprised, John who is our resident 15 1/2 yr old really liked it spread on a buttered bagel with peanut butter.Kevin, who is 11 years old, said that if he gave someone a jar of apple butter, they wouldn't know what to do with it. He believes no one he knows has ever heard of apple butter. I bet he's right.
And, there you have it.
The colors are captivating. Jars of apple butter are peaking through jars of red cabbage saurkraut. I made up 25, 8 oz. jars of apple butter over the weekend.
On Sunday, Kent's parents came over after a soccer game and we all had buttered home made bread spread with our own "falling apples farm" apple butter.
We've got to find a better name that this one!
25, 8 oz. jars of Apple Butter.
Monday, November 7, 2011
November - 1 week after the blizzard.
The day that I came home from my call at the hospital, the sun was shining and the temperature had warmed above freezing. The great Blizzard of snow was melting, the frozened water thawing and birds were flying from branch to branch with chirping and chatter as if to say that it wasn't really all that bad.
While I was walking our collie that day, I happened to view a pair of bluebirds. They stunned me, because they are so rare to see but there they were. Their colors are unmistakable. The bluebird blue is the color of a perfect blue sky. It's belly is the warm brown of the earth. To see such a site was a gift admist the fallen branches and trunks of apples that I knew I had to remove before the end of the day. An earlier post documents my efforts to remove the apple tree that turned out to be the most productive tree of any. It grieved me so deeply.
Later that week, I saw a gorgeous Ring Neck Pheasant on my way out from our home. It was stately and confident. I didn't know we had such a resident on our property. He took offense that I didn't know that he was here. I didn't have my camera for these beautiful birds.
Last Sunday we were buried in over 1 ft of snow. This Sunday morning I could capture the frost on the Lemon Thyme and Wild Strawberries.
Most of the snow has melted. There are still leaves on the apple trees. There are still leaves on some of the oaks. It will be warm again. Unseasonably warm. The wild Turkeys love it. They have a favorite place to explore for food here. They walk out from the forest and venture over our property to the closest apples. They don't mind the stumps and brush. For them the brush provides cover with good morsels to scratch and find.
The weekend is also the time that Kent can saw and split wood. All of our wood for the wood stove comes from the fallen trees from our recent storms.
Even with all this machinery, the amount of labor effort to provide enough wood to heat our house is hard to believe. It takes a huge amount of time and work. The wood that we provide only supplements our needs but the difference is measurable. We have been able to cut our oil consumption in almost half. This alone is motivating. However, we wouldn't have invested in the equipment to take our own trees if it weren't for the storms. We have enough on our 5 acres to supply us for a very long time.
While I was walking our collie that day, I happened to view a pair of bluebirds. They stunned me, because they are so rare to see but there they were. Their colors are unmistakable. The bluebird blue is the color of a perfect blue sky. It's belly is the warm brown of the earth. To see such a site was a gift admist the fallen branches and trunks of apples that I knew I had to remove before the end of the day. An earlier post documents my efforts to remove the apple tree that turned out to be the most productive tree of any. It grieved me so deeply.
Later that week, I saw a gorgeous Ring Neck Pheasant on my way out from our home. It was stately and confident. I didn't know we had such a resident on our property. He took offense that I didn't know that he was here. I didn't have my camera for these beautiful birds.
Last Sunday we were buried in over 1 ft of snow. This Sunday morning I could capture the frost on the Lemon Thyme and Wild Strawberries.
Most of the snow has melted. There are still leaves on the apple trees. There are still leaves on some of the oaks. It will be warm again. Unseasonably warm. The wild Turkeys love it. They have a favorite place to explore for food here. They walk out from the forest and venture over our property to the closest apples. They don't mind the stumps and brush. For them the brush provides cover with good morsels to scratch and find.
The weekend is also the time that Kent can saw and split wood. All of our wood for the wood stove comes from the fallen trees from our recent storms.
Even with all this machinery, the amount of labor effort to provide enough wood to heat our house is hard to believe. It takes a huge amount of time and work. The wood that we provide only supplements our needs but the difference is measurable. We have been able to cut our oil consumption in almost half. This alone is motivating. However, we wouldn't have invested in the equipment to take our own trees if it weren't for the storms. We have enough on our 5 acres to supply us for a very long time.
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