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Hi Everyone,
As I am sitting here at the computer one clock says 6:50, while the other clock says 7:50. Right now my body agrees with the 7:50, but this morning I really enjoyed the fact that I didn’t have to get up at 5:00, but that I was able to sleep in until 6:00. You see, I didn’t change my alarm clock last night—because I wanted to enjoy the chance to sleep in until 6:00 on a Sunday morning. Speaking of a Sunday morning, this morning was one of those very interesting mornings. First off it took us a good thirty minutes to get dressed with all the extra clothes that we were going to need in order to stay warm at 44 degrees. Yes, we pulled out the winter jackets too. Setting up went smoothly—but from there my milking experience and Mom’s milking experience were as different as night and day. I really mean night and day too, because the lights on Mom’s side quit working yesterday—thanks to some ants moving into the electrical box. Papa tried to fix it, but ran out of daylight and time to figure it out. We did manage to hang up a light bulb for Mom, but it really wasn’t very light on her side. Thankfully my lights were working just fine, so we did have a good amount of light from them. The next trouble was that over half of Mom’s cows—the first four, all came in dirty and needed a bath. Do not ask me why a cow would want to get so dirty that it needs a bath when it is cold outside. If cleaning up cows wasn’t enough extra work, the cows also decided to use the milking parlor as a toilet—some going multiple times. Poor Mom was busy washing cows, catching poop, missing poop, getting covered in poop, cleaning up poop, and trying to milk the cows. On the bright side of the milking parlor—where I was milking my cows, things were going very smoothly. My cows were clean, not one of them used the bathroom, and they milked out very smoothly. I really felt sorry for Mom—for if it could go wrong for her, it was. There was early morning milking, cold weather, little light, dirty cows, pooping cows, and no one to help her—until the last three cows. At that point Papa had finished all of his chores so he came to help us finish up. At that moment everything went very smoothly for Mom—the sun was up, the cows came in clean, and no one pooped in the parlor. We were soon done, and Moises arrived to bottle the milk and clean up the equipment so that we could get ready and go to church. Mom headed in to fix breakfast, and I took Yasha out to pasture to guard the turkeys. When I came inside Mom told me that we had thirty minutes to get dressed, cook and eat breakfast and leave for church. I do not handle stress very well, and I really do not handle it around meal time. When it comes to eating I am very European—it must be done slow and peacefully. If I am rushed around eating, my stomach begins to tie up in a knot and food refuses to leave and be swallowed. At just the mention of “rush” my stomach began to tie up—but rush I had to do because I am the church pianist and I cannot be late. Then the telephone rang. Mom had called my sister Samantha to tell her that we would be picking her and Makenna up for church in thirty minutes—we were running late. When Samantha got off the phone she looked at the clock and saw that it was only 8:00—so she called us back to tell us to relax, we had plenty of time. She was my life saver, for Mom had looked at our stove clock which had not been changed yet, and it said 9:00. What a blessing! My breakfast was peacefully enjoyed after all.
The garden is really starting to take shape. Last Monday we were able to get our spinach planted. This morning’s 44 degrees will help it sprout nicely. We desperately need some rain though. Papa has been planting the winter grasses, and while we can water the garden with sprinklers, we have no irrigation for the pastures. Leo and Sue were able to come and help in the garden on Thursday. Leo made two more planting beds—the Vidalia onions will be planted around the 15th of this month. Sue worked at weeding and thinning the beets. Thinning is not something I am very good at, not to mention I seldom even think about doing it. Beet seeds are really not seeds at all—but capsules that hold three or four seeds each. Therefore, when the seeds sprout you can have three beet plants growing from the same hole. Sue carefully separates the little plants and transplants them to places that do not have beets growing. I was tickled pink when I got to the garden and saw what she was doing—that was a big blessing. Maybe that is why my beets never grow big.
Tuesday afternoon I had to cancel my piano lessons in order to help get two steers that we picked up from the butcher organized into the freezer. I was hoping to have it done earlier, but by the time Papa was finished with all his morning chores, it was lunch time. Once we got the milking done, Steve and I bottled the kefir, I made the yogurt and Mom and Steve worked in the courtyard. Little by little we are adding flowers to our little courtyard. Monday night Mom and I planted a bunch of daffodil bulbs in one corner. Years ago I ordered some garlic bulbs for planting, and the company sent us six free daffodil bulbs. They liked our soil real well and have bloomed every year and multiplied greatly. We needed to move them to a new spot this year, so I dug them up and was amazed to find a basket full of bulbs. We planted a lot and shared a lot. I can hardly wait to see them in full bloom come spring—well maybe I can because in order to get to spring, I have to go through winter. Brr!
Friday Mom had planned for us to milk the cows, work in the garden, and then after lunch clean the house, prepare for the canning seminar and run some errands in town. Well, as we sat outside freezing to death while we milked the cows, I was second guessing working in the garden. I am truly part bear—I believe in hibernating when it is cold outside. Mom said that we couldn’t ignore the garden all winter, but to my delight a customer came and we visited with her until lunch time. Even she commented on how cold it was outside, and wondered if we always had such wind. Yes—we always have a breeze here on the farm. My favorite is the south winds, but Friday morning we had a good strong North Wind and let me tell you it was cold at 49 degrees. After lunch I made yogurt, created some recipe cards for the Pumpkin canning class, and vacuumed the floors. Mom cleaned up the kitchen and mopped the floors. It was about 4:30 when we finally headed to town.
The canning class was scheduled to start at 1:00, but first we had to get the cows milked and I refused to get up early to do it. The sun had not been rising before 7:30 lately, and with the time changing Saturday night, Saturday morning was my last chance to sleep in until 7:00 with it still being dark outside. We did manage to get the milking done by 11:00, but then we had to bottle the milk, bottle the kefir, pack the orders, finish the receipts, make a kefir smoothly for lunch, and be ready by 1:00—and we were. While we only had three people show up for the class, we had a very enjoyable time. I had sold almost all of the Seminole pumpkins that I had grown this summer, and the few that were left I wanted to bake with butter, maple syrup, cinnamon and salt. They are so good that way. I was beginning to rack my brain trying to figure out where to get a pumpkin for the canning class. Then a friend of ours mentioned that he had lots of the Calabaza pumpkins growing wild all over his farm. These are the pumpkins that are grown down in Puerto Rico and St. Croix. One of our workers had shared seeds with us a few years ago, and they produced 50ft long vines with lots of pumpkins—and very large ones at that. The biggest one weighed 55 pounds. We shared one of those pumpkins with our friend, and he planted them at his place the next year. He fed some to his cows—and they have been growing wild ever since. I told him that I needed a pumpkin to can, and he brought us over a 47 pound pumpkin. The ladies made sure that they took pictures of it, because they knew that when they went home and told everyone how big the pumpkin was that their story might fall into the fisherman’s “BIG” fish category. Once the pumpkin was all cut up and stuffed into quart jars, we ended up with 25 quart jars of pumpkin. While the pumpkin cooked in the canner, I showed them how easy it was to make some Creamy Pumpkin soup using canned pumpkin. The first two batches of pumpkin came out of the canner at 4:30, and then everyone gathered up a jar of pumpkin and headed home. We headed back to the kitchen to finish canning the other two batches of pumpkin. I was very grateful that I had filled a big crock-pot with stew that morning and that I didn’t have to cook dinner.
It may not sound like it, but as we advance further into fall, things really are slowing down here on the farm. There are no more meat chickens to feed, and in a few weeks there will be no more turkeys. The summer weeds are at the end of their season—so once we weed them out, they are gone, and the winter weeds really haven’t started. The fall garden is pretty much planted, but we do need to start some flowers and carrots in some seed trays. One of the things that I want to do in my extra time—is get some much needed sewing done. We shall see how life plays out this week.
Serving you with Gladness,
Tiare