EGG!

If you recall the first week of August say, by re-reading my post The Ladies of Lester St, you will remember a certain precocious chicken named Roxanne.  Foxy Roxie, of the heavy black eyeliner and early-developing feathers.  The gal with the big mouth that is always forcefully commenting on something, particularly my lack of speed when it comes to distributing kitchen treats. 

Well, we have some exciting news:  we have our very first homegrown egg.  And, since it is greenish-blue, we know who to thank--our big, grown up "easter-egger" Roxanne.

Some of the books that I've read warn that the first few eggs in a girl's life of laying might be not quite right--maybe misshapen or lacking a yolk, or even some of the hard shell.  I was prepared for a few Frankenstein eggs to appear first.  But this little gift is perfect--smaller than future eggs will be, but otherwise perfectly formed.  I have to admit, it is hard to believe that such an amazing thing has actually happened--that this quirky character of a creature, who was herself an egg only a few months ago, dug a small bowl-shaped nest in the pine shavings and laid a little blue egg.  If I don't watch it, I'll start babbling about the deep mysteries in the circle of life and have you all rolling your eyes....

Serendipity must be in the air, because I found the egg last night, under the best possible circumstances:  my dear little friends, Teagan (almost five) and her brother Greyson (almost two) were along to help put the chickies to bed.  I spotted the egg in the dim, far corner of the coop and had to crawl in to get it.  I will never forget the joy of sharing what I held in my hand with Teagan--I think we both shrieked and jumped up and down a little.  Even though she is recovering from a week of the flu, and is still quite subdued, pale, and tired, our discovery put some roses back in her cheeks and a huge perk in her step.  After a short conversation to clarify how baby chicks only come from eggs when there is a rooster around (dangerous ground), and so these girls are going to give us eggs for eating, not hatching, we scooped up her brother and ran to the house to share our wonderful news!

So, I can't quite bear to crack open the Egg yet, even though I am dying to see if the yolk looks like the rich gorgeous orangey-yellow ones we are used to from farmer's market vendors who let their flocks range.  When I do, rest assured that pictures will be taken!

Solstice

Today is the darkest day of the year, the deepest point in this cold season of quiet and reflection.

This morning I watched the world outside my window turn from a black void into a luminous blue fantasy of dark, bare trees lined with glowing snow.  Almost before they were distinguishable, a few cardinals arrived at the sunflower seeds, and a downy woodpecker tapped away at the suet feeder, while a fat squirrel, puffed up against the cold, bounded along the branch of a pine overhead, causing an avalanche of fluffy snow.  As the light grew, the soft, dreamy blue gave way to the bright gray of a snowy winter morning.  Today, long before there is any faint whisper of spring, the sun begins to return, to gain strength--is it any wonder that so many cultures have worshiped the sun?

This is an issue of faith for me as well.  At some point in February every year, I irrationally lose heart and am unable to believe that spring will ever come, no matter what the calendar and my rational mind have to say. My patience is at an end, and every day that dawns in an icy, gray world is almost more than I can bear.  I've had thirty-three years to ponder this, and I think that it all comes down to having to face and embrace the cold and the dark, the unavoidable duality of the great Mother that I love so well the rest of the year, when she is present in her warm, nurturing, growing form.

I am, of course, hardly unique in my struggle to accept the darker side of the cosmic coin.  I am not one who memorizes poetry, but Dylan Thomas immediately pops up in my mind, bidding me to Rage, rage, against the dying of the light, and even earlier, I remember falling in love with Edna St Vincent Millay:  I am not resigned to the shutting away of loving hearts into the hard ground.  I will stop right there--I would never dare to attempt something profound about the lessons of loss, of cold, of the bleak seasons of the heart; far greater minds than mine have spent lifetimes considering these grand conundrums.

What I have learned to accept, however, is that the duality is--above all--necessary; in order to have the light at the end, there must be the tunnel to travel through.  As a gardener, I know this; many of my carefully horded seeds and bulbs will not sprout unless they are exposed to freezing temperatures and kept away from the light--without January, June will never come.  This is a cycle that is so fundamental as to disappear within the normal rhythms of our lives--how long would I last without the daily dark oblivion of a good night's sleep? Just because it is easier to celebrate while I am embraced by the warmth of a breezy, sunny spring day (or impassioned by a wild, gusty autumn evening) doesn't mean that I can deny the cleansing power of the icy wind, or forget to value the generosity that rises in my heart as I scatter seeds in the snow for my furred and feathered sisters and brothers.

I have never formally observed the solstice.  But last night Jason's new snow boots were delivered to our door, and, happily, Mother Nature cooperated with yet another snow fall, filling the night with fat, fluffy flakes swirling down to blanket the world.   Eager as children to try out a new toy, we bundled up and went outside, down the steps and driveway, to stand in the middle of our empty street.

Our chatter died away, snuffed out by the overwhelmingly silent night and the still, dark trees.  Under the street light on the corner the snow floated down, softening the sharp edges of the world, dusting my hair with glittering silver...and there, in the dark and the cold, Jason's hand in mine, all at once my heart overflowed with gratitude for such beauty and such perfect peace.

Happy winter...happy Christmas...happy solstice.

December musings

What fun!  So many interesting projects in varying stages of completion!  It is a crafty and creative season at  my house right now, and I want to take a bunch of pictures and babble on--ah, but I forgot--I can't tell you anything because most of this stuff is Christmas-oriented.  BOO.  What to blog about when everything is a secret?

Well, first, an update on the homemade cleaning:  the shampoo and conditioner are still working.  I am still amazed.  I am going to strain my herbal vinegar concoction this weekend and start using that in my conditioning rinse.  I have fiddled a little here and there with my routine, but over all, this has been quite a revelation.  Ditto for the floor cleaner.  Dish soap?  Well, I'm still waving a white flag over that one.  Oh well.  All other cleaning is being accomplished with previously purchased goods.  I am still savoring the aromatherapy of using essential oils rather than nasty, heavy synthetic fragrances.

I am excited to complete all of the Christmas projects and have time to address a few needs around the house.  First, we need to build shelves in the laundry room, so that I can get everything up off the floor and have access to our crawl space/potential root cellar.  I need to get an idea of the winter-time temperatures and humidity levels down there, and I want to see if we have any small, furry critters with access from the outside.

As soon as the shelves are up, I am really looking forward to building a drying rack for laundry.  It will need to fit our long, narrow rectangle of a laundry room, and I want it rigged up on a pulley system so that I can raise it up and out of the way while the laundry is drying.

Lastly, the bathroom desperately needs a makeover.  I need to hang new towel bars and paint the walls and trim.  I want the ugly mirror/medicine chest GONE.  The sink will also need to go eventually, but I'm thinking a coat of paint on the ugly cabinet underneath may be enough for now.

Once I am done with these plans, it will be time to build nest boxes for the chickies and almost time to start some of the earliest seeds for next year's garden (oh yeah!)  Um, and address my looming thesis.  Eeek.

Good Things

I never got around to writing a Thanksgiving post, which is not to say that I have little that I am thankful for--I tried, actually, to write one and had so much gratitude that I froze and couldn't write coherently about it.  So, instead, here are the things that I am grateful for today:

Meine kleine Jacke.

1.  Cats.  My cats.  In particular, small, tidy Jack who immediately commandeers the warm spot when I leave and curls up into an itty-bitty circle to take a nap.  Earlier, he was sleeping beside me and the house was so quiet that I could hear his soft little snores.  I understand the appeal of a dog--I really do--but I love the complexity and depth of my feline relationships.  I also love that Colby just finished tinkling in the potty (self-taught) and is now chasing his tail in a puddle of sunshine. 




2.  The fact that my chickens are absolute freaks for carbohydrates.  I didn't think it was possible for them to love anything like they love cooked spaghetti (kitchen treats from mom!  that look like worms!  oh, joy!!!) --but the stale rosemary sourdough loaf I've been pulling bits from is another huge hit.  There was almost a chicken stampede this morning; who knew that two eyes, a beak, and some feathers could look so pleading and hopeful at the sound of a bread wrapper??

Sunshine, on my shoulders, makes me happy...

3.  The beautiful natural light in my house during midday.  This is something that has been slow to come to the surface--but I've realized lately that I am so grateful for the sunshine coming in the windows.  Especially since we are heading into such a dark season, I am a lucky, lucky girl to not be stuck in an office, under fluorescent lights for the entire span of the daylight hours.  The glowing column behind Jack in the picture at the top of the page is our south-facing bedroom, and when I walk in there, my heart lifts at the beauty of the sun streaming in...I want, like Colby, to bask in the warmth and glory of the light.



4.  The opportunity I have this year to make Christmas gifts. Despite the pressure of getting everything ready in time--not to mention my desire to come up with truly fun stuff, not wretched, church-raffle tacky "crafts"--I am surprised to find how satisfying it is embrace my creativity, and how meaningful it is to be daydreaming about the beloved recipient as I knit, or sew, or bake, or--well, never you mind!  :)  I am ever-grateful for the wonderful people that I am able to call my friends and family.

The yarn shelf.  Yum.

(I should probably also mention my gratitude for this blog--giving me an excuse to put off paper-writing for just a leeeetle longer...!)

A Roost of Their Own

Oh man.  The first day back-to-normal after a fun holiday is never easy.

Little Petey

I was best fitted for guzzling coffee and snuggling on the couch this morning, thinking over the coziness of hosting a bunch of loving people, eating good food together, and enjoying one another's company.  Jason & I were excited to have both sets of parents and our younger sisters come for Thanksgiving at our house, along with our friend Cathy and her mother--many of my favorite people in the world.  Everyone contributed to our non-traditional (but delicious) menu, and best of all, I didn't wash a single dish!!  As tends to happen when my sister comes to stay, we continued the celebrating after the actual holiday was done--getting in some quality time with good friends over the weekend.  (Again, over a shared meal in most cases--is there anything better than eating with those you love?)

So tired!

Velvety, irresistible puppy ears.

Also, thanks to my sister, we welcomed a new furry member to the extended family:  a little pup named Petey, who Christiana witnessed being dropped off at the pound (not a no-kill shelter) and couldn't forget.  A week later, he was still there, shaking in fear in the back of his cold wire cage, now plagued by fleas and kennel cough--and that was that!  Petey seems to understand his debt, and his wiggly, overjoyed little body never stops trying to pay Christiana back with love, snuggling, and the kind of enthusiastic tail-wagging that brings his whole back half right along with it!  Part dachshund, and seemingly part Italian greyhound, Petey seems more like a miniature deer with his slender legs and body--with the exception of those soft, floppy ears.  Being a bit of a baby still, he was most easily captured by a camera during his many naps on his mama's lap....

Completed cold frame

Today, however, was also a beautiful day with sunshine and a temperature in the high 50s, and so after dawdling through much of the morning, I had an early lunch and headed outside to finish a few odds and ends.  First, I finally added the hinges to the cold frame I built a few weeks ago, and fashioned a wedge to use for venting the box on warmer days like today.  This was one of those pesky five-minute jobs that has been hanging over my head--very satisfying to cross off the list at last! 

Lettuce, collards, cabbage, spinach and green onions

While in the garden, I also tore down the tomato plants and their climbing paraphernalia, depositing the dead plants in my brush pile and the metal tomato ladders in the garage, and I also drained the big plastic barrels I have set aside for rain barrels in the spring and made sure to turn them over so that no more water can collect in them and freeze.  I hauled the rest of the free wood that has been piled in the driveway around to the back of the garage, next to the compost bin, in an attempt to tidy up a bit, and I filled the bird feeders and straightened the garage.  Every time I think it is finally going to be too cold for any further outside chores, the weather warms enough for a productive day like this!

The new roost (and curious chickens)

Another lingering task was to build a roost for the chickens inside their coop.  They are showing more and more interest in roosting, and are of age to want to sleep that way.  Unfortunately, this means that they have been flying up to the top of the coop--which I hadn't yet put a ceiling on--and this means chicken poop on my garage floor.  Ew.  So, today I was determined to add both a roost for them, and a ceiling to the pen for better insulation during the cold months to come. 

Ramona (and one of her pin-up roosters)

The roost is simply a 2" x 2" piece of wood mounted around 18-24" off of the floor of the coop--a good circumference for the girls to grasp and the preferred height
off the ground.  Within minutes of getting it in place, the girls were checking it out.  Then I used a large piece of plywood to cover about two-thirds of the coop and placed a spare window screen over the remaining opening, to allow for ample ventilation and extra light inside the coop.  No one seemed concerned with the changes--just appreciative of the food and water being returned to their hangers.  The only remaining chicken-construction will be their nest boxes, and I don't plan on making those until the new year.

Coop, Sweet Coop

And now it is time to get some Christmas-centered knitting accomplished--as well as reassuring my darling felines that the dreaded puppy has, indeed, gone back to Ohio and the house is theirs once more.  Not to mention my lap.  :)

Hope everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving!

Homemade Hygiene. Oh, yeah.

Well, I've crossed another invisible line, but I think that our relationship can handle it.

Herb garden.  Food, medicine, and cleaning?

Since you haven't written me off with the urban livestock, I feel safe venturing into another new realm:  I'm tired of buying "natural" cleaning products, shampoos, conditioners, and laundry detergents.  I'm tired of all of the label-reading and expense.  I would love to make use of my home's gray water--but I don't quite know that I trust even my green stuff, poured over my plants, to prove healthy for them and the soil.  So, I've listened to my favorite enviro advice column and decided to make these products for myself.

I'm taking all of this one step at a time, using up the remaining commercial products we have and starting herbal concoctions going that take a few weeks to brew.  For now, I have switched to making my own shampoo, conditioner, dish soap, and kitchen floor cleaner.  Whew.

OK.  I would guess that anyone still reading this is with me here, but I should still mention that--ahem-- I do not live in fear of germs and dirt.  There are bad germs, absolutely; I like a clean house & self as well as anyone.  I am a big fan of washing hands.  What I find laughable is this pervasive idea that we are going to nuke any potential germs (The Bad Guys), and this will magically grant us health and safety--as though the larger world and the microscopic one can be adequately assessed by an "us-versus-them" scenario.

Anyway, I can rant about systems thinking and out-dated patriarchal competition-and-fear-based social paradigms another time.  (!)  For now, let's talk about castile soap, baking soda, white vinegar, lemon juice, herbs and essential oils--and pursue a less heroic path towards cleanliness.

Step aside, Suave...

Wanna try this yourself?  These recipes are heavily inspired by The Naturally Clean Home and my latest favorite herbal book Wild & Weedy Apothecary, both of which contain all sorts of goodness.  I get impatient about measuring things closely, so I used the recipes as guidelines most of the time.  Here are the successes (at least so far, so good):


Simple Shampoo
1 T. baking soda dissolved in
1 c. warm water

Pour into an old shampoo bottle, close, and shake.  Apply generously to wet hair & scalp, scrubbing scalp with fingertips and making sure to thoroughly saturate your hair.  Leave on for a few minutes if you like and then rinse.

Variations:

   -Use a cup of herbal tea or an herbal infusion* in place of the water.  Good herbs to use include rosemary, sage, horsetail, nettles, and yarrow flowers.  I find this recipe lasts me through several showers--if you use tea, it might be best to refrigerate after a few days.

   -You may substitute 1 oz of castile soap for the baking soda. I've been happy with the baking soda so far...and afraid the castile soap might be too drying.

*An herbal infusion is a tea made with more plant material, brewed for a much longer time.  A very general recipe might be one ounce of dried herb (root or leaf) in one pint of boiling water, covered and steeped for eight hours or overnight.  Flowers and seeds are more delicate and require shorter steeping time.  Any herbal by Susun Weed is great for more detail.  

Conditioning Rinse
1 T. apple cider vinegar (preferably the good organic stuff) added to
1 c. warm water.

Pour into an old conditioner bottle, shake, and work your concoction through your scalp and hair, letting it soak in for a bit--I rinse it at the end of my shower. 

Variations:

   -If you would like, you can steep beneficial herbs in the vinegar for a month, shaking daily and storing in a sunny window.  I have some brewing; in the meantime, I added 4-5 drops of bergamot essential oil to my current mix--the earthy orange blends blissfully with the cider vinegar.

   -For help with dandruff and to encourage general scalp health, make an herbal vinegar out of nettle, violet leaf, red clover and peppermint, according to The Wild and Weedy Apothecary.  Or (no joke) parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme.  Love it.

Love-in-a-Tangle and herbal vinegar

As strange as it seems to not be lathering a sudsy shampoo into my hair, it is actually working well--not too oily, not too frizzy or dry--I'm digging this, to be honest.  I am still using a tiny dab of leave-in conditioner and a larger dab of gel...although while researching recipes, I came across this website which has a ton of info on making the baking soda/vinegar potions, why they are effective, and recipes for homemade gel, mousse, and hairspray.  Hmmm.  I sense homemade gel in my future.

Another super homemade cleaner is the citrus-mint kitchen/bathroom floor cleaner that I used to mop my kitchen linoleum a few days ago.  Using essential oils has been reminding me how effective aromatherapy is--who knew I could enjoy mopping anything??  And, yet, the smell was blissful.

Citrus-Mint Floor Cleaner
Fill a bucket with very hot water
Add:  a few squirts (tablespoons?) of Dr Bronner's peppermint castile soap
15 drops sweet orange essential oil
8 drops lemon essential or 1/4 c. lemon juice (or both)

If you have unscented castile soap, that is how I originally found this recipe, and I am sure it would be great--however, I just used what I had--which was the minty stuff, and it smelled fantastic with the orange & lemon.

My big failure so far has been liquid dish soap.  Boo.  Unfortunately we do not have a dishwasher, and so I need something that will really hold up to loads of dishes.  In the middle of this, I've also been experimenting with creating herbal salves and lip balms--which means a lot of olive oil, shea butter and melted beeswax all over my kitchen.  This is not a great time for lackluster dish soap.  I'm about to cave and spend some more time on R & D...with a bottle of Mrs. Meyers or Seventh Generation handy.

First, I tried several tablespoons of castile soap to a sinkful of hot water, adding 4-5 drops of lemon essential oil as well.  This seemed to clean adequately but left a hazy film on everything, particularly glassware.  I tried collecting rinse water in the other side of my sink and adding several tablespoons of vinegar to get rid of the film, but that didn't seem to help.  Of course, I was also washing olive oil salve off of some of this stuff--I'm not sure anything can handle that the first time through.

Grated soap:  now available in a bottle-shaped bar!

So, I tried another recipe.  I grated a bar of Dr Bronner's unscented castile into hot water, stirred it until the soap was dissolved, and let it cool for five minutes.  Then I added lemon juice, some essential oils, and several tablespoons of vegetable glycerin.  When I deemed it cool, I stirred it to break up any areas that might have solidified, and then I used a funnel to pour it into an empty dish soap squeeze bottle.  Unfortunately, I discovered that it wasn't cool enough and now I have a squeeze bottle-shaped hunk of hard-ish soap and a little filmy, bubbly water surrounding it.

I think that to truly make a good dish soap, I may have to venture into actual soap-making.  I would love to try at some point, but not right now; I'm not entirely excited about working with lye anyway.  So, in the interim, I am resigned to buy it ready-made.

There you have it.  Homemade Hygiene, Part One.  When I run out of laundry detergent, window spray, and the various bathroom cleansers I will be back with more recipes!

Bread Baking. It's time, y'all!

OK, so, not everyone is a baker.  Or wants to be one. Yeast breads in particular take up several hours of your day and have a notorious reputation for being difficult.  If, however, you are a label-reading food shopper, you know that bread with wholesome real ingredients is expensive--and I suspect that when you proudly bear your first loaf from the oven and taste a still-warm slice, you will wonder how you ever tolerated the lifeless stuff on the grocery shelves.

[Warning:  if you find yourself converted from store-bought sandwich bread, you may be at risk for venturing into other, equally delicious realms of bakery.  Flat breads, tortillas, cornbread, crackers, quick breads, english muffins--they are all fantastic when homemade.  Carb heaven, I tell you.]

I must confess:  I love the alchemy of yeast.  I rarely proof my yeast now because I use instant rather than active dry yeast, but if you are new to baking, I think a few rounds of watching the active dry get all bubbly is inspiring.  It is kind of like gardening...with fungi...at a microscopic level...on super fast-forward steroids.  I may just be weird about this, but there is something about taking the rough dough, kneading it until it is supple, and then watching it grow and change and bake and change again that is half science experiment and half mysterious transformation, ruled ultimately by the gods of warm rising spots and fickle yeast.

Right.  Moving on.  Sorry.

I grew up watching and helping my mom bake bread, so in many ways, a house that smells like baking bread signifies "home" to me.  I know that yeast gets a bad rap, and I would have to recommend bypassing cheap supermarket yeast packets that have been sitting at room temperature or hotter for god knows how long--make a $6 investment and buy some good instant yeast.  It should be kept in the freezer, but I prefer working with it--there are more live cells in it than the active dry and so it responds faster and you can use less.

OK.  Here is the basic sandwich bread recipe that I grew up with.  It is my mother's, it makes two loaves, and it is the most delicious toast or grilled cheese ever.  It is originally written as part white flour and part whole wheat--for the lightest results, that is probably how you should try it.  If you would like to make it entirely from whole wheat, as I do, that works too--I like the new "white" whole wheat that you can get from King Arthur Flour and Bob's Red Mill and that Trader Joe's sells as well.  You can add a few tablespoons of vital wheat gluten (available from King Arthur & Bob's also) if you would like to help the loaves rise a bit more.

If you have a heavy-duty stand mixer, like a Kitchen-Aid, then you can mix up the ingredients and also let the mixer do the kneading for you.  It took me a long time to accept this, but a mixer or a bread machine will produce a lighter whole wheat loaf than hand-kneading does...but much of the pleasure (and exercise) of bread baking comes from kneading the bread the old-fashioned way.  I say, try both ways and become proficient at both.  When you want to savor the experience, knead by hand; when you want to be more speedy or efficient, let the machine work for you.  Remember:  even though the bread requires some time to rise, you have very little work to do once you've mixed up the ingredients and kneaded the dough--spend the rising time doing other stuff around the house or garden and suddenly you've accomplished a bunch of chores and you end up with yummy homemade bread. 

And, a final note:  the abbreviations that I use for different measuring units are:  c. = cup, T. = tablespoon, t. = teaspoon.

Mom's Bread:

Wet Ingredients
4 T. (1/2 stick or 1/4 c.) butter/margerine
1 1/2 c. water
1/2 c. milk
1/2 c. cottage cheese
1/4 c. honey

Dry Ingredients
2 c. whole wheat flour
4 - 4 1/2 c. all-purpose flour
2 packages (4 1/2 t.) active dry yeast (or 3 1/2 t. instant)
1 T. salt

Prepare wet ingredients:  slowly melt the butter in a small saucepan over low heat, making sure it doesn't start to brown.  Add the milk, then the honey, water, and the cottage cheese, and stir occasionally until it is quite warm, but not too hot for the inside of your wrist--similar to checking a baby bottle.  If you want to assess it with a candy thermometer, it should be around 110 degrees.

If you are mixing and kneading by hand, mix three cups of the flour with the yeast and salt in a large mixing bowl.  Pour in the wet ingredients and stir until the flour has been incorporated.  I use a wooden spoon usually, but sometimes a large metal spoon is better at scraping down the sides & bottom of the bowl as you stir.  Add more of the remaining flour until the dough is too stiff to mix anymore by hand.  Prepare a clean counter top with a good dusting of flour and make sure that you have some elbow room.  Tip and scrape the dough onto the floured surface, dust the top with more flour and start to knead.

Kneading is done by folding the dough over on itself, pushing into the fold with the heel of your hand, and then turning the dough about a quarter turn or so and repeating (1. Fold  2. Push  3. Turn).  The dough will gradually become smooth and elastic rather than sticky and soft.  At first, the flour soaks in quickly and the dough gets sticky again--continue to dust the counter top and the surface of the dough as needed.  It is smart to measure out the remaining flour and try not to use more than that--the bread will be heavy and dense if you add too much flour, particularly when you are working with whole grains.  You can knead for a few minutes and then let the dough rest for 10 minutes--this allows the flour and water in the dough to combine a bit and will make the kneading a little easier.  Knead for 8-10 minutes, or until the dough is smooth and elastic.

If you are using a mixer, pour the wet ingredients into your mixer's bowl first, then add almost all of the dry ingredients--reserving about 1/2 to 1 cup of the flour.  Use your dough hook, and start mixing on low until the wet and dry are combined, then turn up a bit--either level 2 or 4 on a Kitchen-Aid and medium at most if you have a different machine.  Use a 1/4 cup measure to add the rest of the flour evenly around the edge of the bowl as it mixes, pausing for a few minutes between to let the flour incorporate.  After several minutes the dough will start to cling to the dough hook and not be sticking to the sides of the bowl--this is what you are aiming for.

Lightly grease a large mixing bowl.  Form the kneaded dough into a ball and put it in the greased bowl, turning it once to coat both sides with oil.  Cover with a kitchen towel or use plastic wrap that you have sprayed with oil on one side, and then drape, oil side down, loosely over the bowl.  Place the bowl in a warm spot (oven with pilot light burning, top of refrigerator, on a heating pad set on "low" and swaddled in kitchen towels) for 45-60 minutes, or until the dough has doubled in size.  (With instant yeast, start checking for size at 30 minutes.)

Turn dough out on a clean counter and gently deflate.  Shape the dough into a rough rectangle and cut into two equal pieces.  Pat the pieces in to loaf shapes, trying not to trap large air bubbles inside.  Grease two 9 x 5" loaf pans and place the loaves in them, with any seams on the bottom.  Cover again and let rise for 35-45 minutes.  Toward the end of the rising time, preheat the oven to 375 degrees.  When loaves have risen an inch above the rim of the pans (or the end of the rising time, whichever comes first), place in oven and bake for 35-45 minutes.  Loaves should be a deep brown on top and sound hollow when tapped.  Turn out of loaf pans and cool on a rack.  Keep in a large plastic bag after fully cooled.

And, voila!  Homemade bread. 

It is good that this recipe makes two loaves...if I haven't been baking regularly, we usually are overwhelmed by the yummy-ness and the first loaf seems to evaporate a few hours after baking!  Enjoy--and if you have any questions, I am happy to help.  Just post a comment or send me an email at mjgoeglein@msn.com.  Happy bread baking!

p.s.  One more fun fact:  the more you bake with yeast in your kitchen, the higher your loaves will rise--thanks to the wild yeast that starts living there.  The wild stuff lends a hand too.  Love it.

Spaghetti Squash Cheesy Ridiculousness--a recipe.

I thought I would jot down quickly (before I forget) the yummy goodness that we had for dinner last night. I tend to throw recipes together with what's on hand and not really write things down.  This one was a keeper. (Apologies for the cheese--we have a ton leftover from pizza weekend with my parents.  Not that that is a problem; we're into aged dairy in this house....  Also, all measurements are a guess.  I would increase the seasonings if you are using tomato paste.)



Cheesy Baked Spaghetti Squash

1 med-lg spaghetti squash
half of 1 lg onion, chopped into thin slivers
6 cloves garlic, minced
1 med zucchini, cut into quarters and then sliced 1/4" thick
1 med green bell pepper, chopped
3 c. shredded mozzarella or italian mix (or to taste)
1/3 c shredded parmesan
1 package Quorn crumbles or 1 lb ground beef, cooked and drained, or 1 pkg soy crumbles
2 ripe tomatoes
1/2 c. tomato sauce/pizza sauce (could use a few T. of tomato paste & 1/2 c water)
1/2 t. garlic powder, onion powder
1 T. dried basil, dried oregano
fresh ground pepper
1/2 T red pepper flakes

Cut squash in half the short way, remove seeds.  Place squash halves cut-side down in a baking dish with 1" of water and bake at 375 degrees for 35 minutes.  Remove from oven and let cool for 5-10 minutes.  In a large skillet, saute onion in a tablespoon or so of olive oil for a few minutes, then add garlic.  After a few more minutes, add zucchini and green pepper.  Saute until tender-crisp.  Scrape insides out of the squash into a large mixing bowl.  Add the sauted vegetables.  In the same skillet, add all of the remaining ingredients except the cheeses and heat over med-low heat (if it seems dry, add 1/4 c. water or tomato sauce as needed, but this will be more "meat" than sauce).  Heat through and simmer briefly.  Add to squash and vegetable mixture and toss well.

Spray 9 X 13" baking dish lightly with oil.  Put a shallow layer of the squash mixture to cover the bottom of the dish.  Sprinkle with parmesan cheese and add a layer of the shredded cheese.  Repeat with squash, parm, and mozz, ending with a layer of cheese.  Bake in a 350 degree oven for 30 minutes or until nicely browned on top.  Serve with garlic bread.  Serves 4-6 with leftovers.

Mmmm.   And now, off to enjoy a 72 degree day in November!  I think I'll plant some garlic :)

Ah, November.... (?)

Mmm, lemon verbena tea on a cold morning.

I am amazed to be saying this:  but I'm glad it's November.  I will still be completely stir-crazy and cabin-fevered by February, but for now, it is good to have few remaining outside responsibilities and plenty of time to focus on cozier projects.

I have been busy, and much of it has been outside.  I don't know that I've ever enjoyed an Autumn quite like this (...and my goal is to be able to say the same thing about this winter by the time it is over.)  If nothing else, I have been truly appreciating the gift of being at home and being able to witness the season's quiet changes.  School is going well, the girls are sassy and growing, and the leaves in our tree-filled neighborhood have been beautiful.


But I have, as I said, been crossing things off of the list!  The berry bushes are all planted; I've taken the plunge and put four plants in the front yard, bordering our property to the South so that they get all the sunlight possible. Blueberries need acidity and a well-draining soil--not, for example the heavy riverside clay that I have here--and so require a good amount of soil amendment.  I used peat moss, and only mixed back in the best of the soil; I was very grateful for Jason's help with the last few.  The leftover chunks of clay are earmarked for another project I will tackle in the spring:  a mud oven for backyard summer baking (very exciting!) 

Home sweet home a la chicken

The chicken coop is also in fully-functional swing, as is the ladder connecting their coop to the outdoor pen.  There are a few details that I need to finish on the coop, such as nest boxes and a roost, but those are projects to be done in the coming month or two.  The girls seem happy with the arrangement and like to tear up and down the ladder, particularly first thing in the morning.

The garden is winding down; I am going on a quick trip today to pick up some salvaged windows for cold frames for one bed, but otherwise there are only some dried seeds to pick and dead plant material to pull and deposit in the compost heap.  If it weren't for the collards, cabbage, green onions, spinach, and lettuce that will last a bit longer with the cold frames, I might be a tad distraught.  As it is, I am already secretly imagining how early I will start seeds this year! 

An heirloom "Fish" pepper

We have been given a pergola for the concrete slab patio in the back where we like to sit and have a fire--if the wind would ever die down long enough for a still day, I would get it painted and we could assemble it!  We will leave the canvas roof in storage for the winter, but I think this is going to be another nice addition to our yard; already we laugh about all of the little vignettes we've discovered or created around the yard in which we lounge with conscious pleasure.

In the kitchen, all is going pretty well.  Lately, we've been having a good run of homemade pizza-making because I was trying out a new crust recipe before having a little pizza party at my parents with some of my older sisters last weekend.  My next cooking project is canning green tomato salsa in an attempt to do something with the giant pile of green tomatoes and peppers we salvaged from frost this week.  I will try to get some pictures of the whole process to post, although single-person canning days are kind of intense and hectic, at least in my little kitchen!

Betty & Ramona, hanging out.

In the larger Indianapolis world, I will be volunteering at the Irvington Skillshare "Feastival" this Sunday, and I will report back on all of the fun stuff presented there.  Also, stay tuned for future posts about potential business (huh?) opportunities that I've been tossing around--I think that cooking is going to be my most immediate way of pulling in some household funds.  Hopefully.  Cross your fingers.

Or, maybe NOT tomorrow.

Hmm.  If I remember correctly, this second section was supposed to be posted "tomorrow,"and "tomorrow" was supposed to occur on October 16th.  (Ahem.  That's what I get for making resolutions.)  According to Google, Garth Brooks once wrote a song entitled "What if Tomorrow Never Comes" that might be appropriate here...I'll let you  go ahead and figure out that one if you're into that kind of thing.

[Depending on your point of view, however, you might raise the concern that the kinds and amounts of natural resources that we use, combined with the number of us using them and the mammoth amounts of pollution that result are presenting us already with an uncertain tomorrow.  (Ha! How's that for a segue?)]

In my last post, I proposed that there are practical, frugal, ecological, and apocalyptic reasons for my canning of tomatoes, dithering with chickens, and working toward a future where I am able to step outside of the consumptive economy as much as possible.  Here are my thoughts on the last two motivations:



The ecological:  When we first knew we were buying a house down the street, Jason & I stopped at the community park along the White River, down by the town hall of Rocky Ripple--and were staggered and deflated by the two signs below, surely posted by someone aware of their irony. 

While we have a canoe, we have learned that any large rainstorm overwhelms Indianapolis's storm-water system and floods the river with raw sewage; if we want to paddle around, it is best to go after a long dry spell.  Instead of getting to play in the river, I can't help but view it with suspicion.

We have collectively made a choice in our advanced and modern age that occasionally astounds me:  we choose to live in a dirty, polluted world.  We vote for this every day, with our dollars, our ballot boxes, our opinions and conversations with others.  (I shudder to think about what was voted into place yesterday.  *sigh*)  It is just fine, apparently, because doing so implicitly waves the banners of "Progress" "Economic Growth" and "Free Enterprise"--even as all of the mining, manufacturing, and fuel-burning give us cancer, render us sterile, or make it a struggle for our poor, asthmatic children to breathe.  We vote for people who will provide ecologically devastating loopholes to encourage business & industry or who flinch before the idea of enforcing regulation and taxes (or providing incentives) that will allow us to safely fish and swim our rivers again.  

The White River:  pretty.  (Pretty polluted, that is....)

 Blind consumption is an insidious part of American life, but I am trying to learn a different way.  Stuff is important to us, and I don't think there is any changing that.  But I do think that what we value as stuff can be shifted, and we can make it a goal to reuse things as much as possible--we can value things with history, with stories.  I try to check craigslist.org and freecycle.org frequently, and I have been finding treasures at second-hand shops for almost twenty years. I read something recently that recommended shopping antique stores when you need a new kitchen utensil--there are a bunch of peelers and graters out there, made of metal, still sharp, and infinitely more durable and of better quality than the plastic riff-raff available now.  I know that it is easier to go somewhere huge that carries everything--I am proposing that soulless new cheap junk from China is not worth it.

And now, very briefly, the Apocalyptic:

There is a gargantuan amount of evidence showing that the Earth's ability to absorb our wastes and chemicals and provide us with raw materials and fundamentals like usable water is not infinite, after all.  Probably the most obvious of the evidence revolves around anthropogenic climate change.  As in, human caused.  We all know that, yes, the planet warms and cools over geological time and we all also know, whether consciously or not, that we cannot continue to be the fossil fuel-burning, resource-gobbling creatures that we've morphed into over the last 150 years.  Oy vey.  It pains me that this is a question in anyone's mind.

Sadly, though, you can pick your poison.  Climate change doesn't work for you?  If you are a Peak Oil enthusiast, I hear you.  If you are a Loss-of-Diversity campaigner, I totally agree dude. If you are an "Exceedingly large corporations owning everything is an enormously bad idea" engineer, I am on the same damn train, man.  Meet me in the dining car later for cocktails.  My point is, I keep hearing different groups of people say that there are a lot of us concerned, and I can't help wondering if perhaps the optimists are right & a critical mass of awareness is about to be met.  Maybe we are teetering on the tipping point.  Maybe not.  In any case, it feels good to be doing what I can...by doing it myself.

So there are the basic premises under which I am exploring urban homesteading.  The beauty of it is that there are so many benefits--great food, good books, exercise in the fresh air, time to spend with friends and family, plenty of meditation and reflection, the satisfaction of creating something useful, tasty, or lovely with my own two hands....

Funny, how lucky I feel.

So, um, you're doing...what?

This is the "page" entitled "The Wherefore" in the column to the left--I wanted to explain a little more about why I'm doing all of this DIY business.  So, here are my thoughts:

 

I am sitting in my back yard, listening to the breeze in the tree branches and the peeps peeping in their pen.  It is a gorgeous Fall day of warm sunshine and cooler temperatures; the garden is quiet and green-yellow-brown and the world seems unutterably lovely.  Fat, floppy butterflies keep wafting by.  It is noon on a Thursday.  Shouldn't I be at work?


I am 33, unemployed, living in a house that I don't own, racking up student loans for a master's degree, I am legally single and entirely childless, I haven't contributed to my paltry 401K in two years, I don't have cable, and I live in a two-person household that only owns one car.  A small one.  I didn't eat cow, pig, or chicken for almost a decade.  I get irrationally angry with people spraying their driveway weeds with Round-up, and I once got teary at the sight of a wind farm.  Someone called me a hippie in a derogatory way last month, and it had nothing to do with patchwork skirts, dreadlocks, or BO.  Although, come to think of it, I am barefoot right now & haven't combed my hair yet today.  Uh oh. 

And now I am blogging about chickens and some intangible thing called urban homesteading (which, my overly-talkative neighbor must be thinking, is probably socialism with a new coat of paint).  Do you really want to know more about such a weirdo?  Aren't you worried that the children might come across one of my posts and go running out to join the Peace Corps?  Well watch out:  I hope that they do.  At the risk of embracing the hippie slur, come on people now, smile on your brother....  OK, OK, I'll stop.

The concept of urban homesteading is fairly simple--homesteading, or working to provide what you need from your own land (however you define own,) done in the middle of a city (ok, fine:  or suburb) rather than in a rural setting. There are obvious limitations to urban life that affect how viable it is to attempt self-sufficiency--and to be honest, the goal is to increase self-reliance (which is possible) rather than to be fully self-sufficient (which is neither possible nor desirable.) There are all sorts of common, ordinary ways to increase your ability to fend for yourself:  grow a garden, make compost, harvest rainwater, keep bees, cook, bake, sew, become a handy-person, collect well-made tools.  Find ways to reuse what you have rather than buying something new.  Be crafty.  Be frugal.  Be kind and build yourself some community.

Why?

There are lots of reasons why buying less and making more is a good choice (wow, I can hear the economists sharpening their knives & picking up their stones as I type this).  The biggest impetus for me is also the least tangible:  it feels satisfying and deeply human.  The whole point, after all, is to dig into this life in a manner that makes you feel worthwhile and alive.  I ran across a fantastic quote the other day by Howard Thurman:

"Don't ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive."

...and there we are.  Finding ways to do it myself, to close the loop a little, makes me feel alive.

However, there are more concrete reasons for this exploration as well, ranging from the practical to the frugal, the ecological to the apocalyptic. Here are my thoughts on the first two of these--in the interest of length, I'll post the last two as a "part two" so it doesn't take all evening to muddle through my lecturing!

The Practical:

This is a simple one.  If you enjoy being outside (and particularly in the Spring, who doesn't?), then with some good planning, a small garden can provide you with great food without a ton of bother or time.  Honestly.  Good dirt, a soaker hose, a deep mulch, and some plants that like your area will only require you to turn on the spigot occasionally and remember to grab your harvest on your way to cook dinner. There are tons of books and websites out there for your winter reading--check out my reading list for some of my favorites, if you'd like.

Or what about healthy food?  Pre-packaged processed foods are going to be the death of us--it doesn't take brilliance to see that.  And yet cooking from scratch is so impractical, right?  Well, yes.  Sometimes.  But what if you set aside a cooking weekend with family or friends; what if cooking is a labor of love that you try to make fun?  Again, with some thoughtful planning, you can make and freeze easy, easy dinners for the many times no one feels like cooking.  It kills me to buy an organic frozen burrito for $3.99 or whatever, when there is a little voice in the back of my head reminding me that if I had just made a few extra the last time we had a Mexican dinner night & frozen them,I wouldn't be plunking down four bucks for something less tasty now.  Crockpots are beautiful things for busy cookers as well--not to mention how the house smells by midafternoon.  Another essential tool is sitting down and summoning the discipline to plan a weekly menu and grocery list.  I am lucky if I remember to do this--and yet it simplifies everything when I do!

The Frugal:

Frugality is a lost art, but more importantly it is a means to an end.  The less that you have to fork over in cash to live happily, the less you are dependent upon procuring more cash.  [--And from what I have read, it seems that as you become a more accomplished wizard of the homey arts, the more you are able to make money, if you choose, from the abundance of your garden, your hands, your time, your heart.]

I was in my herb garden the other day, realizing the money I have saved by starting perennials from seed last spring.  I have ten echinacea purpurea plants and two echinacea augustifolia plants, a hyssop, and several clumps of native monarda that will be blooming and vigorous next summer.  The seeds were $2.50 per packet.  Healthy, sizeable perennials are, what, $5-$20 per pot, depending?  There is the hidden expense of the greater difficulty of starting some perennials, not to mention the time spent nursing the babies all spring (which is better than Prozac, actually, for my winter blues and cabin fever)--and yet this is still one less reason to be in an office, working for a paycheck.

I am learning to look at being frugal as a way of paring away excess, of working to have a less cluttered life with fewer impersonal tugs on my emotions by marketers, and of being given the urge to more honestly prioritize where I spend money.  I am kind of amazed to say that I haven't been in a Target since the middle of June, at least according to my bank records--but I know at least one reason is that I've learned I can't go in there without spending a bunch of money on cheap crap that will be in the trash sooner rather than later. The Target people get me, and so I've been avoiding them.

Which, of course leads to the Ecological, and "Part Two."  I'll be back with that tomorrow....

Aack! Falling off the Blog Wagon....

OK.  I am starting my New Years Resolution today, which is to be a more frequent blogger (not that I actually make NY resolutions, but...).  I will say to my credit, however, that harvest time is a busy time for everyone--particularly the local foods people I would like to be interviewing.  And then there is my own garden to consider.  Two words:  green beans.  Good lord.

I also need to get over my blogging perfectionism--there is no grammatical firing squad with itchy trigger fingers waiting for me to click "publish post."  I vow to stop being so neurotic and start just writing and sharing what's going on in my world.

Applesauce!  Canned!  Woo hoo!

I have been busy with all sorts of tasks and visitors, whether homesteading-related or not, and I am leaving this afternoon for a week-long residency for school.  This is the last big event on my calendar for a while, thankfully, and I can't wait to be back and ready to dive into the many projects sitting around our house in various stages of completion.  The interim chicken coop will be replaced by the permanent one.  The cold frames will be built.  The berry bushes planted, and the saved seeds stored away for the spring.  I will be better about taking pictures during these projects so you can see my processes.  My nonprofit interviews will be scheduled--in ink--and the related blog posts will ensue.  I will build a picnic table, and the rain barrels will be completed.  The crawl space will be converted to a root cellar.  The knitting and Christmas projects will commence.  And, damn it, I am going to make cheese.

What?  Um, well, of course.  Yes, there is a good chance that life will get in the way of a few of these projects.  I can still dream, right?

The temporary coop--gotta love pallets!

 I will say, however, that I have been quite successful in some arenas around the house, especially in the kitchen.  I have virtually stopped buying bread products and am instead baking them at home.  Sandwich bread, hamburger and hotdog buns, flatbread, tortillas, and crackers--and yes, organic, whole-grain homemade is cheaper and wonderfully better.  Even better, I am continually improving my management of the refrigerator--the amount of food that we throw away or compost has significantly decreased, a feat of which I am quite proud.  It is such an awful feeling to buy healthier organic (and pricey!) items and then find yourself throwing them away, intact and moldy, a week or two later.  I am beginning to feel as though I am truly managing my household, rather than having it manage me.  My house and I are developing our rhythm.  Progress!

I have also become a Craigslist and Freecycle enthusiast.  [A more limited income pitted against unlimited projects requiring raw materials will do that to a girl!]  In the process of meeting and swapping stuff with these strangers, I find myself delighted and reassured that people are basically good, kind, and worthwhile--something I easily forget.  How, after all, can we sustain consuming less and fighting the environmentally-good fight if doing so results in feelings of isolation and insurmountable odds?  People do care...and then they give you free lumber for the chicken coop and cut you a fabulous deal on berry bushes.  We shall overcome.  Never fear.

And so, off to school I go.  These residencies never fail to grace me with a renewed sense of purpose and a deep gratitude for the opportunity to know these people, learn these beautiful concepts, and be given the chance to go out and put it all into action.  How good to know:  I am where I need to be.  (And I come bearing very tasty crackers!)

Making hay while the sun shines....

Buckwheat, shortly after sprouting

One of the unexpected lessons of my garden this summer has been the ins & outs of a funny little tri-cornered grain called buckwheat.  Those of us who like our breakfast foods fried on a griddle probably know of buckwheat pancakes, while the organic gardeners amongst us know of buckwheat as a quick cover crop which excels in loosening poor soil, crowding out weeds, and making nutrients available for future plants.  I planted a row in the garden last spring when I just couldn't face the idea of digging and working one more inch of ground in preparation for more finicky vegetable plants.  I planned (operative word) to follow directions and cut it down before it went to seed, then plant warmer weather stuff in its place.

A flowering jungle of buckwheat and bees.

If you are convinced that you have a black thumb...plant some buckwheat.  No, really.  It should be a poster-child for instant-gratification-gardening.  The seeds sprout within days, and the plants zip through their entire lifecycle (seed to seed) in 6 weeks.  (Attention chicken owners:  the girls are enormous fans of the sprouts!)  The white flowers aren't big or exceptionally pretty--but the pollinators adore them, and your garden will thank you.  If the soil-prep and pollination help aren't enough to convince you, there is one more gift from the buckwheat plant:  you get hay out of the deal in the end, if you'd like!

I would love to claim that I planned from the beginning to plant buckwheat and harvest the hay for winter bedding for my flock, but when I planted that original row, I had no idea that I would be unemployed & a chicken-wrangler by the end of the summer.  Rather then pulling the buckwheat and using that bed for veggies, I let the plants self-sow freely (due to lazy gardening, primarily, although this was easily rationalized as I watched the bees happily humming among the flowers).  Much to my surprise, this accidental crop will save me at least a few dollars in purchased litter for the girls and allows me--albeit in a small way--to close my homesteading loop just a little more.  One more way to provide for our needs without leaving home!  Hurray!

Drying the hay

While the plants pull up easily, I quickly found that cutting them off at the ground eliminates getting a bunch of dirt mixed in with the plant material--and leaves a little of the goodness to decompose back into the soil.  I piled up the buckwheat on a tarp to dry, occasionally taking my garden rake and flipping it over to expose it all to the sun.  And then, I got an old plastic tub and some garden twine and made a bale!  I positioned two pieces of twine across the width of the tub and one across the length, anchoring the ends underneath the tub to hold the twine in place.  Then I compressed as much of the hay as I could into a roughly rectangular bundle, dumped it in the tub, and stepped on top to crush it.  I repeated this until the tramped-down-hay reached the top of the tub, tied the twine tightly, and lifted out the bale (with a great deal of pride!)

Who knew this was so easy?

I ended up with two bales roughly 3'x1.5'x1.5'--and if I had been focused on cutting the hay every six weeks all summer, I am sure I could have easily tripled that amount on a 4'x18'  garden row, if not much more...another thing to track and measure next year!  In the meantime, I have a cheap & easy source of fresh green appetizers for the chickies all winter--now that I know how easily buckwheat sprouts.  Maybe next summer I'll try to harvest some of the grain and we'll have those buckwheat pancakes after all....

Foraging Part Deux

Ok, need to work out the glitches of my technical ability here--the picture of the apples was sent from my phone with the intention to add text later.  That is not proving to work out well, so here we are!

I had never considered the role that foraging might play in my urban homesteading adventures--to be honest, it sounds a little like dumpster-diving to me, and I am not ready to go there.  I appreciate the ethic, and I know first hand how much completely pristine stuff gets tossed from grocery stores daily or weekly, but I am just not ready to start pulling food out of dumpsters.  --and my family & friends give a huge, collective sigh of relief-- The chickens are already giving me a reputation.  To my possible future offspring:  sorry, kids, I am going to be an embarrassment when you are in middle school.

And then I walked by an apple tree with a friend the other day.  Said apple tree is right around the corner from our old place, on the route to a nearby walking trail, gym I used to frequent, local foods produce stand, and several good diners--I've been by this apple tree a lot.  And every Fall, the apples all rot on the ground and generally get waspy and nasty.  All of this info, of course, is one big excuse for picking a few even though no one was home.  (Ahem.)  Not sure if this counts as theft, and from now on I will make greater efforts to ask first, but I am not feeling much guilt.  It doesn't help that I've recently read how many old, ignored apple trees are dotting the country, still faithfully producing from a generation ago when people were more interested in growing their own foods.  Just waiting to be discovered.  By me.  Around the block from my old place....

Now here's the strange part:  these apples had quite a renegade aura to them.  When was the last time that you ate free food?  Food that no one paid for.  Not a gift, not something made from scratch out of purchased ingredients, not a potluck dinner paid for by a church or group--not even a homegrown head of lettuce from a purchased packet of seeds.  This was anarchy in a small, shiny red globe.  It felt like arriving at college and not having a curfew--washing and admiring and biting into that apple, breaking the rules.  I expected it to be wormy, for there to be a nasty surprise with that first bite...and no, just pure white flesh, red skin, the usual.  But with the added flavor of flipping off the Corporate-Food Man.  Wow, delish.

So, I looked up urban food foraging.  Found a great online map locating different accessible fruit trees, berry patches, nut trees, etc on a website--for the Portland area.  *sigh* Why does the Pacific Northwest get this stuff so many light years ahead of the Midwest??  Huh??  So, I will be making my own personal map, or at least making a mental note when I see a sidewalk covered in walnuts, or another fruit tree that is so obviously neglected.  I might throw out to the craigslist/freecycle world an offer of cleaning up the fallen mess under the tree in your front yard in exchange for whatever usable produce I can lug away.  I know that you can make cider and vinegar out of apples you wouldn't want to eat...hmmmm....

In other quick news:  the chickens are the size of small pigeons now, and they are a handful.  They have officially grown big enough to love food scraps, particularly the remains of tomatoes and leftover cooked spaghetti.  The spaghetti looks enough like worms to create an enormous amount of peeping and begging--and the one that gets the first "worm" immediately is chased all around the pen by the rest.  I am still working on balancing free time with hawk-protection, but I have to say that there is nothing quite like gardening with the girls.  They are hilarious, and while I'm harvesting beans above, they are happy to scoop up any bugs living below.  Good times, good times.

Craigslist and freecycle have yielded more fantastic finds--we went this morning and picked up five 2yr old blueberry plants, two blackberry plants, and a grapevine--for $34.  The guy also gave me some organic fertilizer and an old chicken waterer for no charge.  The plants are big and extremely healthy--this is, by far, the deal of the garden so far!  We also picked up some free wood from another person this morning, managing to contort everything into fitting in the Honda.  Productive morning, for $34 and a bit of gas money!

And now, to get outside and enjoy this gorgeous day.  Happy Sunday to everyone!