Monday Musings.

I wonder if the people who had the over-laden apple trees and left the crop to fall and rot on the ground are worrying about their food budget this year.  I don't know how many wild and cultivated (and neglected) apple trees were left untouched in my area last year.  I stopped at one place where the lawn (aka wasted green space) was literally blanketed with fallen apples.  I asked if I could take them and was rudely run off!  It galls.  This year, there is a real scarcity of fruit - tree fruit.  I have two old, decrepit apple trees that had lots of fruit last year.  Yesterday, I searched the branches and came up with two tiny apples.  How long will people continue to stand, helplessly, and cry about the cost of food when they can pull themselves up by their bootstraps and grow some?  Harumph.  And the people who gave up after one attempt at gardening?  If you think that was hard, try stretching your dollar to cover even more food price increases.  There's freedom in providing your own food - it ain't easy, especially this year, but it beats the pants off the alternative.

This weekend as I bid Sylvie 'Bon Voyage' - off to the start of her new life in Maine (with very mixed emotions), I was given to some nostalgic ruminations on the people who have touched my life over the (many) years.  There were the Youngbloods, the elderly farming couple who introduced me to chickens, Clydesdales and hummingbirds, Duncan, the sculptor who inspired me to be an artist and taught me how to accept criticism without tears, Mort, with his photogenic mind and amazing sense of fun, Rip, for the magnitude of his generosity and spirit, and it goes on and on and on.  And let's not forget the waiter in the Madrid restaurant who, when he thought the chair on which I was sitting was too high, slid a little cushion under my feet.  And I wasn't even the one leaving the tip!

Friday Frugality and Learning Something New.

Because I am so darn anxious to harvest things out of my garden - or, more likely, I am so anxious to beat the chipmunks/slugs/snails/rabbits/Japanese beetles/etc. to the harvest - I was out last night cutting onion greens.  Then I trotted inside and sliced them thinly and put them in the dehydrator.  This morning I had one quart of nice dried 'green' onions.  Woot!  I also poured my leftover gazpacho into ice cube trays and froze that - it's my own Bloody Mary invention:  tall glass, gazpacho ice cubes, shot (or so) of vodka.  Bingo!

Earlier this week, I discovered that my drivers' side headlight was out.  I hate it when car-type things go wrong, because I know bumkus when it comes to cars.  And I swear that headlights don't last as long as they used to.  I hardly do any nighttime driving now, but I usually drive with my headlights on, day or night, because of the safety factor.  It would be just my luck to zip past a trooper who had a quota to fill.  Or an ax to grind.  Yesterday, I had my lights on when I pulled into the parking garage at my office building.  The building superintendent came out of the interior door and yelled, "Hey, your left headlight is out!"  Sighing loudly in my best helpless-girl manner, I told him I knew that it was and I was going to have it fixed when I got my oil changed.  In three weeks.  Then I flounced off to my office.  An hour later, he came up and told me to stop at an auto parts store and get two replacement bulbs and bring them with me to work.  This morning, both of us bending over the open chasm of what is my car engine, he showed me how to change the bulbs.  I feel emancipated!  I feel in charge!  I love it!!!!  And it cost one half of what it would have cost me to have ONE headlight changed at the shop.  Frugality - it's a wunnerful thing.  And, hey!  Knowledge IS power!  Right on!  (Where's my tie-dyed stuff - I'm getting my groove back.)

Anything this cute should be illegal.

Kay's doe, Acorn, had twins a couple of days ago.  Two of the most adorable tri-colored Nigerian Dwarf goat kids I have ever seen in my entire life - I kid you not!  (Pun intended.)  One of each - a doeling and a buckling.  It took all my strength to not put them in my pocket and head for the gates.  I'll wait until they're weaned.  KIDDING.  I think.  Yes, kidding.  Um, yes.  Hmmm.

This was the sunset off of Sylvie's deck on our last Sunday Night Supper.  The view from her deck is just spectacular - nothing but rolling green hills and mountains and sunsets like this.

Monday Musings.

I went to open a can a couple of days ago and it took me forever to locate my can opener.  I realized that I haven't opened a 'can' can for months and months.  All this cooking from scratch and putting up my own has just crept into my life and taken over!!!  What a nice thought.  I just had the last of my chicken and rice soup this past weekend and will have to can some more.  There is nothing like it - just the right amount of seasonings, you can make it ricey-thick or brothy-thin.  I have the comfort of knowing that, if the zombies take over everywhere else, I will be just fine for quite some time.  And I have to agree with OFG on who the real zombies will be/are.

Another topic high on the Musing List is that there seem to be either Givers or Receivers in the world, but very few who can both give and receive.  I have friends (you know who you are) who are very happy to give me almost literally the shirt of their back, but, when it comes to receiving anything in return, you have to chase them down, tackle them and force them to take it.  I mean, really.  That comes to receiving compliments gracefully - something with which I am completely uncomfortable.  You know the type:  "That shirt looks wonderful on you!"  "What, this shirt?  OMG it makes my arms look fat!"

Back in the OL (Other Life) in Ohio, I ran with a wild crowd.  It was not unusual for us to gather for unfettered nights of ....bowling.  Now, these people were very serious about their bowling.  I found that being serious about bowling was sort of an oxymoron, but they tolerated my flippant attitude and complete lack of talent and athletic ability.  I imagine it was because I was always the one who had everyone over afterwards for food and drink.  However, one night shines out in its own fabulous light.  The night I won a prize for my bowling.  Not only was it a prize, but it was the only such prize every bestowed by this particular bowling alley that we frequented.  I won the "Worst Adult Bowler" prize!  It was a bottle of Cold Bird.  This, for you wine aficionados not familiar with the more obscure vintages, is about seventeen levels below Cold Duck.  Which is about twenty levels below Asti Spumanti.  Which is about another fifteen levels below cheap bubbly wine.  You get the picture.  I wore this badge proudly.  But it became a game to see who could get rid of the bottle by foisting it off (unbeknownstly - word?  should be) on someone else in the group.  We referred to it as "Pass the Bottle".  That bottle of rotgut made the rounds for over a year.  It was slipped under dog beds, left in the back seats of automobiles, disguised as other objects that were not as disagreeable - at one Halloween party, the passers had wrapped it up in swaddling cloths and left it, to all intents and purposes a small, stiff baby, on the hosts bed.  Sadly, it was accidentally dropped on a patio during a rather rambunctious summer cookout, and that was the end of that.

A Walk Through the Garden. Virtually.



Chard bed - Pac Choy has gone to flower on left. 
Germination stunk on far end.



Eggplant (center of peas/beans).

Garlic bed - looking dry!

Golden Peas - pretty, but not prolific.

Green beans

My exotic fruit - Meyer Lemon tree!

Onion bed

Carrots to left.  Or so they should be.  Out
of two, six foot rows, I have about 13 carrots.

The Taters!

From l-r, Lemon Verbena, Chives, Calendula, Mint, Catnip.

Squash bed is struggling along.  I water it every night and it's
evaporated in minutes.

The Tomato/Cuke/Pepper Bed - it's a little cramped.
I call it "Square Inch Gardening". 

Cukes, the Square Inch Method.

Okay, it's not necessarily a 'walk through the garden'.  That would connotate order, not chaos.  It's more of a frenetic race around the garden, but you can get the picture, right?  One of these days, I may even a) have my camera; b) the batteries will be working; c) it won't be 95 degrees with an equal level of humidity; and d) I'll remember to take pictures in order!

Now, back to the goat barn before I wimp out....

A little bit of this and that.

But no garden pics!  (Baaaad me.)  I promise to post them this weekend.  Honest to Pete, I do.  (Can someone please call me and remind me?  Who am I?  And who is Pete?)

Had a great Fourth at our annual town parade.  It's the only Fourth of July Parade in the county, I believe - or the only continuous parade.  I bake a couple of pies for the Pie a' la Mode fundraiser for the library, get there early and park two folding chairs for my parents (under the shade trees, and not too far from the pie...) and then just stand back and enjoy it.  It's a wonderful community event, with people milling around and catching up on the news. 

My sister from L.A. was in for one of her blitzkrieg visits, so I didn't get much done - lots of sitting around and talking.  I picked her up in the city Sunday afternoon, she went to our parents' Monday and Tuesday, we re-met on Wednesday at the parade, then I dropped her at the train station on the way to work on Thursday.

Freddy is a fast healer - after chafing at being kept "safe" in a crate, she rejoined the flock the night after the operation.  We do our 'a little dab'll do ya' routine with the Neosporin twice a day, but she seems to be limping much less and getting around just fine.  This morning we did our foot ablutions on the kitchen counter.  It was very exciting for everyone.  I swear all of Scrappy's hair stood on end.  Apparently, however, she is Kees' favorite girlfriend and he is all in a snit when I catch her up twice a day. 

The Japanese beetles are back.  So, twice a day - morning and evening - I go out with my can of soapy water and knock the little buggers into a watery grave.  If you garden or grow ANYTHING, you sure have to be made of stern stuff.  I also noticed that something is digging up my lawn - most likely digging for grubs.  I haven't caught a scent of "Eau d' Pepe La Pew", the usual grub-digging character, but it's another first.  Now I have to look into grub treatments and try to nip that in the bud. 

This weekend will be mostly manure-moving.  I need to get the piles of llama beans moved out of the paddock, and the goaties' barn is only half-done.  Once those two things are done, I will have time (hahahahahaha) to mow down the weeds in the back and water the garden.  And paint the Adirondack chairs.  And clean out the little coop.  The forecast is for storms on Saturday.  More than likely, they will pass south of us.  Other than today - which is due to climb into the 90s - we should be back to milder temps.  But there is no rain forecast for the next week.  Not good.

My vision of raising my own small flock of meatie chickens has fizzled.  The rooster is too large and will be going off to Kamp K tomorrow.  I will keep the two hens and will be introducing them into the main flock this weekend.  That's always good for some drama!

Hope you get rain if you need it, dry out if you don't.

We interrupt our regular musing....

for the Freddy Report.  Freddy the Bearded Lady came through her minor foot surgery with flying colors.  This vet is such a keeper.  We wrapped her in a towel and I cradled her like a baby on her back, while he cleaned out her infected foot area.  What a mess!  Poor puss.  She was a trooper, but didn't much like not being able to see what was going on.  She now has a nice, clean, LARGE, gaping wound on her foot and I have to wash it out with a weak iodine solution and then dab Neosporin in it twice a day.  Yes, twice. a. day.  Well, thank goodness - my days were getting pretty run-of-the-mill anyway, so this should liven things up.  I borrowed a dog crate and have set up a little recovery area for her, where she's in the shade, has clean bedding, her own food and water and can keep her eye on her compatriots, and vice versa.  When the surgery was over and I had put her back in her carrier (and spent a good long time carrying on and loving all over his dog, Sprocket - the most beautiful Bernese I have ever seen), he handwrote the bill and said, "Well, do you think this is fair?  I'm not sure what to charge."  Wha?  It was very fair - and he gave me iodine and some ointment to keep flies away from her foot, too.

Got half the goat barn cleaned out - I had forgotten that I had laid plastic on the ground under all the pallets.  It was originally for hay storage only.  After forking through about 7 inches of hay and muck, I found the cause for the dampness underlying their bedding.  Ripped it up and only about 7 more wheelbarrow loads will finish the job.  I realized, however, that - in my infinite (or is that finite) wisdom, I had build the stalls around their Igloo and there is no way to get it out.  Now I have to find a way to clean it out on site.  I can never be accused on making things easy.  Nope. 

I tried a new recipe on the grill - and a huge thanks to Jaime for posting it on her lovely blog.  I used salmon and then did sliced sweet potatoes, shallots and onions in another packet on the grill - no muss, no fuss, no hot stove or oven.  Perfecto!  My sister from LA was in town (briefly, part A) and Sylvie joined us.  It was a nice evening.

I plan on taking pictures of the garden this week and posting them.  So far, things are growing and are pretty much on schedule, except for the squash - I planted the seeds late and they took forever to germinate.  But, I will be enjoying zucchini while everyone else's is just a memory.  Wait --.  They will remember that all they've been eating for months is zucchini and will run, screaming, from my attempts to foist mine off on them.  Rats.

Speaking of, we seem to have come to a stalemate.  I have trapped 21.  That's right.  And I saw another, but have not trapped it.  I am hoping that it partook of my One Bite Rat Delight and will bother me no more.  As if.