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Hi Everyone,

Has the time really come to say good-bye to flip-flops, short sleeve shirts and the warmth of the sun? Have we seen the last of the billowing puffy white cumulus clouds? Have we mowed the grass for the last time? The clouds are low and gray, the sycamore leaves are turning brown, and the mornings are cool and crisp. I am sure that it will not be long before we hear the bugling call of the sandhill cranes as they travel south announcing that summer is past and winter isn’t far away. Yes, fall is here, and things are changing all around us. The chestnut trees have dropped their nuts, and it will not be long before they drop their leaves too. The tall summer weeds are either dying back—or going to seed, and the winter weeds are beginning to peak their little green leaves out of the rich loamy soil.

While there are always cows to milk, chickens to feed, ducks and turkeys to let out so they can roam the farm, and musical pastures to play with the cows, sheep and chickens—the seasons change and we find ourselves doing things that we only do during certain times of the year. We don’t plant watermelons in the winter, nor do we put out hay in the summer. Here on the farm there is a season for everything. Collards, kale and broccoli we plant in the fall and harvest until the summer heat begins. Roselle and sweet potatoes we plant in the spring and harvest come fall. Last spring I planted half a dozen roselle hibiscus seeds in little pots of soil in the green house. As soon as the chance of frost was past I cleared a spot in the garden and tucked the red stemmed and green leaved little plants into their new bed. They took off like weeds—which was a good thing so that they outgrew the competition around them. By the end of summer they were six feet tall and six feet wide and once fall began—they began to bloom. The dainty pinkish purple flowers resemble an okra flower—for they are in the same family. Once October arrived the flowers are replaced with dark red calyces—that taste like SweeTARTS, a little sweet and a little tart. On Monday I harvested six pounds of them and spent a good portion of Tuesday making the kitchen dirty with them. One pound I turned into some Florida Cranberry-Apple Jello and the rest I boiled to make a BIG batch of Roselle tea with. On Thursday Mom took the tea and combined it with apple juice (3 parts tea: 1 part apple juice) and canned the bright red liquid in quart jars so that we can heat them up later if we want a cup of tea, or use them to make jello.

Monday morning Steve and I began weeding the “Mid-West Garden Bed”. It was time to remove the summer weeds that had won out since I never got around to covering the bed with black plastic before the summer rains arrived. The bed was a forest of dogfennel and Spanish needle. The only tool we needed was a shovel. We only worked for about thirty minutes before Mom hollered from the house that lunch was ready. We really didn’t want to quit—but we did have the truck bed not only full, but over flowing with weeds. After lunch Mom returned to the garden with Steve and they cleared a great big portion. I had to stay inside to make yogurt, put a chicken in the oven to cook for dinner, and to make a quick batch of chicken broth in the Instant Pot since we didn’t have enough for three hot cups of chicken broth for breakfast the next morning. Once I was finished in the kitchen I headed to the garden to harvest okra (which I thought would be the last harvest), cayenne peppers (which are producing in mega abundance), and some roselle calyces (which are totally loaded to the max). Then Mom and Papa rounded up the ram lambs and we picked out the best to take to the butcher. We were supposed to have them processed last spring—but the butchers have been busier than normal thanks to COVID. Due to the delay and the rainy summer we didn’t have as many as we had hoped.

Farming really is a job that involves all 365 days every year—but the nice thing about it is that every day is different, every month is different, and every year is different. Sometimes we never know what a day will bring forth—we make our plans, but God directs our path. Sometimes those plans are altered by sickness too! For the last five weeks I have struggled with air hunger—thankfully not every day, but some days have been bad enough that my “To Do List” must be swept under the bed. I have had this problem happen twice before: once due to an allergy to corn, and once to stress and each one lasted three months. I have not figured this one out yet—but have a strong suspicion it was caused by mold (at least it is the only thing I can figure out). Thursday and Saturday were both “one of those days when my “To Do List” was swept under the bed”. Instead of helping Mom can the Roselle tea, or planting garlic, radishes and bunching onions—I found myself flat on my back taking naps and reading.

Thankfully Friday was not one of my “bad” days, because we had 45 chickens to process. How thankful I am for the help that God has given us this year as one family seeks ways to teach their children old-fashioned skills and another is interested in teaching their children to serve others with a cheerful heart. We were all surprised on Friday that we were completely done by 3:00. We started set up at 11:30, began processing at noon, packaging and cutting up a little after 1:00 and was done by 3:00 with clean up. Usually it has been around 3:30 or 4:00, so it was nice to have a little extra time that afternoon. Papa and Steve became mechanics and fixed the lawn mower, Mom became the “Treasurer” as she ran to the bank so that we could pay some bills, and I grabbed my camera and the keyboard and worked on a new recipe blog. It has been exactly a year since I last posted a recipe, and after concocting the most delicious ruby red roselle jello I just couldn’t keep the recipe to myself.

As we scan through the weather channel it looks like the temperatures will be dropping into the low 40’s in a week—that means that frost is right around the corner. I am not looking forward to that—for I do enjoy the summer heat. Like it or not though, we must prepare the garden for the possibility of frost, so I do believe that we shall be spending this week putting the plastic back over the caterpillar tunnels and possibly closing in the last end (the other three are already closed off with wood, clear vinyl, and a door).

Serving you with Gladness,
Tiare