Spreading the wealth.

I finally sorted through all my seeds and found (oh, surprise - not) that I have tons of them!  I had signed on for Mike the Gardener's year of seeds and, while there were many that I would use, there were also many seeds for things I do not raise.  That got me thinking - as well as some prodding from Krazo Acres' seed swap idea - that I should put them out there and see if anyone would like them.  I've made a list that I put on a separate page.  As they are taken, I will remove them.  I hate to waste seeds and love the idea of sending them out there to flourish in other gardens!

Picking up the tempo. And the pieces.

I am happy to report that I did pretty much everything on my list for the weekend - and then some.  All I can remember is that I was either cooking or cleaning up after cooking.  Out of the kitchen this weekend:  a loaf of brown rice bread; breakfast bars; gluten free oat bagelishes; sweet potato hash with eggs; mozzarella cheese; two spinach bacon quiches (egg glut!); gluten free brownies for the barn.  I am all cooked-out.

I shoveled up Mount Llama Beans and cleaned all the water buckets, removed the remaining evidence of the hawk carnage out of the coop, and cleared the front and back deck - we are due for a foot of snow tomorrow night, into Wednesday.

I also vacuumed the entire house, mopped the floors, washed the dog goobers off the windows, did all my laundry - except for the sofa cover which is completely and grossly doggified, ironed, watched a DVD, spent time with my parents - where I made kale salad for the twentieth time (I am thrilled my 90 y/o mother loves kale salad), sent my tax stuff off to the accountant, and found a car.  Woot!

After schlepping in and out of six dealerships, used and otherwise, I debated on Saturday afternoon whether to head home and give up (and take six showers - after six car dealers I felt all icky) but I soldiered up north to drop in at a small family-run operation that has been the source of my dairy farm neighbor's three trucks and two cars, his dad's two trucks, his uncles' trucks, his cousins' cars -- the entire clan.  I pulled into the lot and... VOILA!  There it was.  A 2007 Hyundai Tuscan, 5 speed transmission, low mileage, one owner, AWD.  With a price tag that was in the outland of my budget (sort of waaaay outland).  There was no one to-home (as they say hereabouts), so I called when I got home and made an appointment to drive back up yesterday morning.  Thanks to my finely-honed negotiating skills, friendship with the dairy clan, and six chapter tale of woe, I managed to get the price down to where I think I can swing it.  If all goes well, I will drive it off the lot Friday morning.

Just in time, too.  I was just starting to get used to an automatic transmission....

Getting back up to speed.

Albeit a slower speed, but I had a flash a day ago, where I was standing in the kitchen humming away - and it dawned on me that I felt...normal!  What a relief!  I have quite a lot on my agenda for this weekend, but I feel up to it and am looking forward to making some headway.  There is nothing more frustrating than watching the days click along, while your list sits idly by.

On the agenda for the weekend:  bake brown rice bread; GF oat bagels (using the term loosely at best); dog biscuits; skirt one fleece; clean the house; laundry; car shopping; llama bean clean up - buckets full to be spread over my rhubarb bed; light chicken coop clean up - hopefully, the deep freeze will lift long enough for me to chip off surfaces.  I'm having a friend over for breakfast on Sunday for her birthday.  I hope she likes her lap duvet.  I will have to take a picture of it.

I also finished the dreaded hand towel - I do like how it turned out (sorry, it's a little dark) - and I do like the fact that it is securely attached to the oven door handle so that the Boyz don't bat it across the kitchen floor.  I might just knit up another, but it won't be that pattern.  Erk.

I also need to do my weekend cook-off for the week, although I have no idea at this point what it will be.  Since I am working my way through my packed freezer and over-stocked pantry shelves, I am sure I can come up with something!  My goal this year is to not enter the grocery store at. all.  It's going to be tough to go without salad until spring, but I can do it.  I have plenty of vegetables, both frozen and canned, to keep my quota up.  It will be an interesting challenge.

Let's play the Homestead Edition of Clue...

I came home last night, changed to barn boots and headed out to the chicken coop with Scrappy in tow - as usual.  As I scanned the white expanse, my head lamp picked up an image that should not have been there - a dark blot on the landscape.  It was one of my banty hens - dead as a doornail, belly up, feet pointing to the sky.  Crap.  I looked around as best I could in the dark and then eased her out of the snow.  Her back was shredded.  I placed her out of Scrappy's reach and went into the coop.  In the corner, under the lamp and behind the waterer/heater was evidence of a vicious struggle - her little feathers everywhere.  I did a quick head count and everyone else seemed there and intact.  Since it was too dark to tell what had happened, I placed the hen in an empty bin for examination during daylight hours.  It was a sad thing.

Had the roosters gotten in a fight and she was in the wrong place at the wrong time?  Had something gotten into the coop and attacked just her?

This morning I went out to investigate.  Quickly, because it was still below zero.  What I found was evidence of another strike - black feathers this time.  I followed the feathers to one of the chicken structures and....

It was MURDER in the POULTRY YARD with TALONS and BEAK by MR. HAWK.

Fortunately for me, and unfortunately for Mr. Hawk, he did not follow the advice of master criminal minds.  Never, EVER, revisit the scene of your crime.

Mr. Hawk was in the A-frame, snacking on Victim #2, one of my Ameracauna pullets.   Let's just say I will make it my business that this is his last free meal...

If it's Tuesday, I must be driving a ....

(fill in the blank)!  Since losing my car to suicide, I have been bouncing between rides.  The price you pay for living way out in the sticks.  (Where did that saying come from?  Do they mean sticks as in trees?  Sticks as in burrs that stick to every surface, furred or clothed?)  I was thinking that it would be very livable to be car-less if I were retired.  I would, of course, occasionally need a car, but, for the most part, I could get along pretty well without one.  (Queen of Denial here - lalalalalala)

I borrowed my dad's 1996 Dodge Ranger pickemup for the first part of my car-less life.  This old guy (the truck) is a reliable back-up and runs like a top.  It does, however, have a wonky speedometer and will only start in neutral.  And it is traction-challenged.  This presents a problem in the present season.  I went from the truck to my friend, Melanie (aka my third sister)'s extra car, a Subaru Baja.  All this bouncing around from vehicle to vehicle has made me realize a few things:  I have the best family and friends in the ENTIRE UNIVERSE; I have reached a point in my life that I crave an automatic transmission; traction is everything.  The dead carcass of my car sits in the mechanic's lot, waiting for me to make up my mind.  Do I continue to hunt for an affordable engine?  Do I scrap her?  I have given myself a deadline of Friday to decide one way or the other.

In other news, the Polar Vortex From Hell continues to plague us.  The chickens are miserable and bored, and even Little Bit has been allowed to stay the coop during the day.  He had been shunned and forced to live out his days in one of the outbuildings, until just about dark - when he edged his way to the door and darted inside, made a beeline for an empty nesting box, and maintained a low profile until he was booted out in the morning.  The sheep and llama are all packed in the run-in shed.  The goats are very vocal about their displeasure at the unending frigidity of the weather.  Scrappy spends all his time wrapped, burrito-like in his fleece blanket - refusing to budge in case Kramer darts in and takes the warm spot.

I am getting a lot done inside.  I tackled my pantry closet and sorted out everything that I had not used/would not be using.  Everything was either recycled to the hens or passed on to my parents (ginger spread, fig preserves).  I finished knitting a pair of socks, only to find that they are child-sized.  Sigh.  Stay tuned for a giveaway.  I am 99% finished with a new cotton/linen hand towel that hangs on the oven door handle.  I find this works best for me, as the cats like to yank them down and then bat them around.  This was a new pattern and one that I will not try again.  For some reason, my brain would not grasp it, so instead of being a piece of light knitting in between heftier projects, it was a pain in the ass.  I have the cross strips of my potholder rug sewn together.  Now all that's needed is for me to find the picture I took of the layout (thank goD I remembered to snap it!) so I can complete it.  I finished a lap duvet - my first limited attempt at quilting - for a friend's birthday and will "wrap" it in a feed bag tote.  Of which I have many...  Next on the needles are a new pair of heavy-duty mittens.  Or maybe I will put some rustle in my bustle and felt the mittens I knitted two years ago.  This week I plan on hauling out the first of many fleeces to skirt.  I have to sort them out - which ones I will clean and process myself (doncha love how confident I sound?) and which ones will go to the mill. 

An interesting end result of the IFH (Influenza from Hell), is that I no longer crave coffee.  I have turned into a tea drinker.  It's weird.

Winter Survival: Nerd Hat with Earflaps

It's no surprise that those of us who have to trudge out in below-zero weather to deal with frozen gates, water, doors, and crabby critters do not hold to fashionista status.  While the indoor motto may be "Less is Better" (as in fuel oil consumption), outside our motto is "Layer it ON!".  One of my favorite pieces of outdoor gear is newly acquired.  I do have the ubiquitous fur-lined bomber hat because they are/were chic.  However, it makes my head hot, slides down over my eyes and is more of a nuisance than a help.  While rummaging around in the sale bin of a local feed store earlier this winter, I came across this:

Modeled by our own Green Nana

It is PERFECT!  Fleece lined, lightweight, nice, snug ear flaps that Velcro under your chin.  It even has a little elastic shirring across the back to hold the back flap close to your neck.  AND it has a fetching little button on the top.  But, best thing of all - it has a bill/visor/brim!  This shades your eyes from the sun (whatzat?), keeps snow from flying in your face, and is the perfect parking spot for the next piece of survival gear - the headlamp!  This is, by far, my favorite bit of gear.  It allows me to see where I'm going, keeps both hands free, and lights up an amazingly large path.

I went through a few renditions of the headlamp before I chanced upon this model.  The first one strapped across my forehead, laden down with six batteries.  It gave me a headache and slowly slid down to the bridge of my nose, rendering me blind.  Next one was a lighter version of that one - with only 4 batteries - which allowed me to step up my nightly chores to a fever pitch before it inevitably slid down my brow.  This is perfecto.  Speaking of light - I am noticing that the days are getting longer - and Puxatawney Phil is due to step up to the plate this coming Sunday.  While I am not a believer in the supernatural powers of rodents, I find myself crossing my fingers and toes for a forecast of early spring.  Lawsymercy do we need it!

Found on the road. Dead.

This morning, approximately 11:30, an unassuming, grey, middle-aged Subaru Forester committed suicide, on a whim, by filleting her engine block with a wild piston.

May it rest/rust in pieces.  Amen.