The weekend revisited.

Savoy cabbage bought at the Farmers Market.
Isn't it beautiful?

Such a chaotic weekend - I was thither and yon both days.  So was the weather.  Mostly thither, I think.  Saturday I had a long list to work through at my parents', then had to race back to get the barn re-reorganized for my 100 bales of hay (oh, yeah!!!)  My farmer/neighbor picked me up in his new-to-him 1978 truck with a box body and we clacked, clanged, chugged and alternately screeched, jerked and shimmied up the mountain to get the hay.  The engine/exhaust system was so loud we had to yell at each other.  But we made it.  Thankfully, the rain held off long enough for us to toss the bales into the truck, then shimmy, etc. down the mountain, where we stacked all those lovely bales floor-to-ceiling.  I kept opening the door and looking in.  I had to pinch myself!  There is nothing like a nice stock of hay to make the world seem brighter.  And thank goodness I had help stacking.  I am good to stack four-high, but the farmer can heft those babies up six-high!  Even the little goats were appreciative of the added warmth a barnful of hay bale provides.  They have their little Dogloo to sleep in, but the hay helps temper the noise of rain on the metal roof.

While I was waiting to be picked up for the hay ride, I got two raised beds weeded, hoed and raked - ready for garlic planting.  I also started on the mat of weeds that had overtaken my tomato/herb bed.  I left the parsley plants because they were so healthy, although I might have to cover the bed if the temps drop as they are forecast to do later this week.  I squeezed garlic-planting in on Sunday morning - with my high-tech, surefired planting method - broomstick marked at 3".  I still have room, so I am on the look-out for more seed garlic.  So far, I've planted seed garlic from Marianne (it was so big, it was mistaken for Elephant garlic - llama beans!!!), my saved seed garlic from this year's crop, Keeper from The Garlic Store, and Susanville (how could I NOT plant that?), also from The Garlic Store.  Susanville is a softneck variety, while the others are all hardneck.  I'd like to plant the rest of the bed and another third of the second, leaving the rest of the second bed for onions.  I still have to mulch it and I wanted to plant spinach, but ran out of time, light and opportunity. 

On Sunday, I drove up to Melanie's, where she had generously offered to help me fill buckets full of apple drops from their trees for the sheep (and me).  She has had an amazing apple crop!  I love her sheep.  She let them out into the field where we were picking and they rocketed out - leaping and running!  It was wonderful to watch.  They are beautiful Shetlands.  I brought whey for her friendly Tamworth pig, and I always love to watch the amazing array of poultry free ranging around their farm.  It's a little piece of heaven.  Marianne joined us and we had a nice get-together.  I left with the back of the Ford filled with apples and the nice, warm feeling I always have after spending time with the Ms.  I stopped on my way home to make two visits, as I am trying not to do nothing but work all weekend.  They were short but sweet (the visits, that is), and one visit resulted in my gleaning three large, sweet red peppers!  By the time I got home, it started to rain off and on.  I let the sheep out into the back fenced area and got a wire enclosure around one of my two apple trees.  I would love to let them graze without supervision, but Hoosier is way too fond of my little apple trees.  I have one more to protect, then my one surviving cherry.  Then they can have a ball.

Faced with a very small amount of flour remaining in my stash, I had a challenge coming up with something to bake for the barn crew on Sunday morning.  I ended up with Fudge Drops, from the KAF Bakers Companion - one of my favorites.  It only used 3/4C of flour.  Which I had.  Just.  It also calls for 2C of semi-sweet chocolate bits.  The mixture is very much like brownie batter - just a little thicker.  The cookies bake into crackly molten chocolate disks.  They smelled wonderful!  The dogs and I dropped them off at the milking parlor on our morning walk.  They got a five thumbs up!  Now that I am flourless, I am backed to the wall - the next thing I bake MUST be gluten free!

I put on a crock pot full of butternut squash chili, based on the delicious recipe I found over at Thy Hand Hath Provided, for Saturday's dinner and my week of lunches.  I didn't have black beans so I used red beans, but used everything else (I also halved the recipe, since I am the  only one I'm serving!)  Since I was on a winter squash trend, I whipped up a batch of Pumpkin Hummus that was to die for!  I brought it along to dinner Sunday at Sylvie's and it was good!  I will be making this many times this winter.  I got the recipe here.  I didn't swirl the honey on top, nor did I garnish it with chickpeas.  It is incredibly light.  I'm going to try the pumpkin cornbread next, with a non-wheat baking mix I've concocted.  Sylvie made a wonderful stew with butternut squash, apples and apple sausage.  I am still waiting for the recipe (ahem - tap, tap, tap, tap).  Such a healthy, sumptuous weekend!  I got two of my UFOs done - both the cotton tab towels.  I gave one to my mother and the other....well, the holidays are coming. 

My Meyer lemon tree is loaded with lemons and they are finally starting to ripen!  I got out her winter grow light and hung it overhead.  Nothing is too good for my lemon tree.  I also managed to get all of my laundry done and hung out.  Of course, it's still drying, thanks to the rain.  But it's supposed to be clear today and most of tomorrow, so I'm hoping everything will eventually dry on the line.  The weekend was a perfect balance of work and friends.

#300 is the Magic Number!

Just think.  I have been yakking away to all of you nice, patient people 300 times over the past year and a half or so!  Something must be done to reward you for your humorous and supportive comments, your zany wit, the generosity of your advice and counsel.  How about a giveaway!?

I bet you didn't know that I have a collection of VINTAGE (that's for you, Jane) aprons!  I will 'gift' these three wonderful aprons (all cleaned, ironed and starched - all gently used but in great condition - they are vintage, retro antiques, after all) to one lucky winner! 

BUT WAIT!  That's not all -- our lucky winner will also receive a copy of The Apron Book!  It's a great read, full of photographs, remembrances and patterns.  Woot!  The winner will be chosen by random drawing (eyes closed, hand rummaging in hat among tiny bits of paper with your names on them - all very scientific) on Sunday, with the winner announced Monday.  Deadline for entry is midnight Friday.

To enter, just leave a comment below.  You may leave an anecdote about an apron-y memory, but it's not required.  I'm just inherently nosy!  Plus, I love you to pieces.

Monday Musings.

Who ever came up with "kick yourself"?  Have you ever tried?  It's nigh on impossible!  I suppose, if you were double-jointed it could be done.  Otherwise, you'd be left with trying to kick your own ankle.  Which is painful.  Yes, research was done on this subject with much personal sacrifice by yerstruly.

Watches can be very cruel.  Many, many hours can go by in my mind, yet, when I look at my watch, only one real hour has passed.  It is a proven fact that weekend time moves at lightspeed rates, as opposed to workweek time, which crawwwwwls along.

More musing on mirrors.  Besides being startled most times when I look at my image (mind: 30 vs. mirror: reality), during the week I tend to be busy on home-type things right up until moments before I have to jettison myself out the door for my commute to work.  I think it might be helpful to have a glimpse in the mirror BEFORE I walk into the office. 

There is a smoking area - of which the borders are very hazy (harharhar) - outside of our office building.  Most mornings, two young 'gofers' who work for a large law firm in the building are generally hanging out, smoking, slouching and texting like mad, when I enter the building.  This morning, we all went into the elevator at the same time.  They were eyeing my red Netflix dvd return envelope and my Dansko clogs.  I looked them in the eye(s) and said, "Yes, I don't stream, text, tweet, or smoke.  I am SO not cool."  Only middle age has given me the moxie to be myself and proud of it.

Winding down and winding uP.

I get all happy on Friday.  I AM TGIF!  I get in my little Ford Focus Wagon and say, encouragingly, "Sweetheart!  It's Friday!  Only one more round of commute for the week and then you get some time off!"  Of course we both know that we only get one day off.  Saturday is a commute of another nature, with just as many miles logged.  Then we drive up the mountain to deliver eggs to our weekly egg customer (this week they had to settle for a half-dozen chicken and a half-dozen duck).  I also get to visit their dog (sweet Georgia, who knows I keep treats in the car) and their two Nigerian wethers, Roger and Wilbur.  More often than not, I am slightly the worse for wear by the time I get back into my car to head to the office.  Good thing there's no wardrobe checker at the door.

Since this weekend is going to be a mixed bag, weather-wise, I will split my time equally between my outdoor lists and my indoor lists.  Some day I will have to go back and re-read these Friday posts.  I am sure they are good for a laugh.  I've tried to get some of my weekend errands done during the week so I can have more usable time on Saturday.  Besides cleaning the house (I swept up a groundhog-sized hair ball this morning! - everyone's shedding!), I want to complete some of my UFOs.  I mean, really, how long will it take to weave in some ends?  I seem to have a real problem with actually finishing these things.  But, the holidays are coming up, I am going to 'do' a craft fair with Sylvie in November, and I want/need to get more on my Etsy site.  So there.  I have such lofty aims, don't I? 

Last night I managed to make a Queso Blanco AND make dinner at the same time.  I guess those fish oil capsules are paying off!  I made the poached salmon with the carrot pilaf and it was great!  Of course, it took longer than 20 minutes because I used long grain brown rice.  And I didn't put toasted pine nuts in the pilaf, I used some chopped sultanas in their place.  Yum!  I am also going to try my hand at some gluten-free baking this weekend.  So far, I have had very mixed results in finding edible food replacements (read: bread/bread products) that are gluten-free.  Glutino's Pretzel Twists are wonderful, but pricey.  I wrote them a nice email telling them so and they sent me coupons!  Cool beans!  But, on the flip side, last weekend, out of sheer desperation, I dropped $6 on a King Arthur Flour Gluten Free Bread Mix.  Here is my description of the outcome:  ick.  I should have heeded the warning bells that were set off when I read the directions on the outside of the package - 3 eggs.  I find it almost impossible to describe the texture of this non-bread product.  Pudding?  Bread?  Pudding Bread?  Even though I hate-hate-hate waste, and especially hate wasting eggs that are few and far between of late, I could only choke down a third of the so-called loaf and gave the rest to the chickens.  THEY loved it.  So I am going to try my own gluten-free baking.  I believe, however, I first must have a stand-up-and-testify moment and acknowledge that there is NO such thing as gluten-free bread.  There.  I've said it.  But, hope springs eternal in this bread-lovin heart.

Falling for Fall.

On my daily commute into the city, I drive along a very windy road at the top of a plateau.  There a a lot of little dots of lakes along the route, surrounded by summer cabins.  This is a particularly pretty spot.  As I was driving up the mountain a couple of days ago, it seemed as if the leaves just went neon.  The reds, oranges and golds were almost blindingly bright.  I managed to find a safe-ish place to pull over and took the snap above.  Then I just stood there, and listened.  There are no gravel pits up there, very few cars.  There was nothing but rustling leaves and bird song.  It was totally, completely, beautiful.  I love Fall.

Just Plain Wednesday.

Yes, yes.  I am a smarty pants.  I'm glad it's Wednesday, though.  Hump Day, it's all downhill from here.  I was equally pleased to realize that I can eke out a work wardrobe for the rest of the week without ironing!  Woot!  I really don't mind ironing, but I like to make an event out of it -- you know, candlelight, soft music, dvd in the player.  What I end up doing is squeezing the ironing board in my bathroom so I can brush my teeth, put on makeup and heat up the iron at the same time - because I've left it to the last minute and have 5 minutes to do all of this and iron something to wear for work.  I am my own worst enemy.

My neighbor is dropping off my riding mower this afternoon.  He had it all summer, with the promise of fixing it for me.  Which was nice, but then I didn't have it all summer.  When I said that it was so wonderful of him to have found time to fix it (not being facetious, I meant it - he's a busy guy), he mumbled something about never minding and he'd tell me about it later.  This means that nothing was wrong with it.  Sigh.

Acacia (aka Cady) is perking right along.  She is the spindliest thing still, but she seems to be getting her old feisty self back.  She made me chase her around the goat paddock this morning.  That's a good thing!  The chickens gave me ZERO eggs yesterday.  Thank goodness for the ducks, who have stepped up to the breakfast plate - I'm getting one-to-two a day.  Since Friday afternoon, I have gotten six chicken eggs.  It's disgustipating.  I will say that this is the first year that so many of them are moulting at the same time.  But, that is no excuse for the Barnevelders.  I'm going to have to have a heart-to-heart with those girls.  My sister called me this weekend and she's already gotten two eggs from her four pullets!  Egads!  Outrage!

In rummaging through my mind (such an interesting journey) this week, trying to come up with dinner ideas, I remembered that I had a great cookbook by Marian Burros, called 20 Minute Menus.  The best thing about this cookbook is the variety and healthfulness of the recipes.  I made a very tasty curried vegetables with lentils two days ago, and will try a poached salmon with cilantro and Turkish carrots tonight.  I don't end up making them within the 20 minute time frame (I used regular lentils instead of red, for instance), but I might see if I can do it tonight.  I had a fleeting thought that I would cook my way through the book and blog about it, but it would become boring to me and to anyone who might read it,  and I might become whiny - as in Julie and Julia.  (Am I the only one who found both the blog and movie irritating?)  Besides, it would take focus; this is a trait that is foreign to me.

I sat down last night and took inventory of all the hand work projects that I have in one form of start-up or another.  I might need an intervention:  knitted linen hand towel - done but ends need weaving in; cotton knitted kitchen towel with button tab - done but ends need weaving in and button chosen and sewn on; another cotton knitted kitchen towel with button tab - on the needles; fingerless mitts, aka texting mitts - one done except for thumb finishing and end weaving, second one on the needles; meditation masks - four new organic cotton covers cut out, need to be sewn, then photographed and put on Etsy; potholder rug - 7 squares done, one on the loom, 15 needed for rug completion; surprise Etsy project - very complicated with lots of hand work needed - about 1/4 done; felted/knit slippers - soles cut, felting cut, need to sew same together and knit tops.

That is one list I probably shouldn't have written down.

Mud wrestling. Without the mud.

Ten years ago, if someone had said to me that trying to wrestle down a fat little lamb would be just another part of my day, I would have snorted my coffee.  The wrong way.  Yet, last night, after my hour commute home in the gloaming light, feeding the dogs, finding my measly egg (as in singular - what the heck are the chickens doing all day?), I girded myself with a canister of anti-lice powder, a coffee can of shepherd's mix and a half bale of hay, and sauntered down to the sheep paddock.  I swear that sheep are like cats - they can read my body language as easily as I can read a map.  Hmm.  Maybe that's not a good analogy.  As easily as I can down a bag of Cape Cod 40% Less Fat Potato Chips.

These are the times when I am glad there are no witnesses - human, that is.  I had the can of feed in one hand and the powder canister shoved in the waistband of my jeans, so that I had a free hand to unlatch my convoluted gate system.  The object of my powdering - Banyan, son of Coco(nut) the Crazy - was already giving me the hairy eyeball.  He used to be such a sweetie-pie.  But, then came the wethering process.  I think that pushed him over the edge, into the crazy genetic soup of his likewise wacky mother.  I did manage to go through my equally convoluted feeding process without raising his suspicions and, while his head was down, I grabbed his rear leg.  What then ensued was a wild, writhing, bucking, wiggling ten minutes until I managed to also get hold of his opposite front leg and pin him to the ground in a full Nelson.  Keep in mind that I am four times (or more) as big as he is.  In the end, we were both panting and I had gotten as much of an anti-lice dousing on me as I had on him.  Maybe more.  After we both recovered, I stood him back up on his little sheep legs and off he tottered to tell Maaaaama all about it.

I went inside, made a cup of lemongrass ginger tea and took a shower.  The end.