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Hi Everyone,
Monday’s are our gardening days—and we will do whatever it takes to guard that day from being taken over by any other type of work, company, or plans. If it can be postponed to another day—it must be postponed. The sheep needed some tender love and care though—and I was not willing to procrastinate another day. On Saturday I told Mom that we would have to tend to the sheep on Monday—of which she said that if she had to do sheep on Monday, then she and Steve would work in the garden on Tuesday instead of helping package the eggs. I was game and I told her that Clayton and I would even milk the cows Monday morning so that she could at least get the garden mowed on Monday. Once Clayton and I finished milking the cows, we then bottled the milk so that Steve could get started on washing the milk hoses. It was close to noon by the time we were all done and Steve, Clayton and I headed out to round up the sheep and bring them down to the sheep barn. Once we had them secured in the field by the barn we headed inside for lunch. When lunch was over Papa ground up some dolomite and copper, and then we all headed to the sheep barn. We tried to talk the sheep into going into the barn—but they refused to understand English so I ran back up to the feed room and added a few scoops of alfalfa to a bucket and headed back to the barn shaking it and calling the sheep. Thanks to an old bottle baby, Smokey, we got all the sheep into the barn. Bottle lambs are a pain to raise sometimes—but they come in great handy when you want to lure a flock of sheep. The bottle lamb (sheep) comes up to you to see what you have, and then all the other sheep follow her wondering what kind of treat she is going to get—and then you can lead all of them anywhere. Once all the sheep were in the barn Steve, Clayton and Papa took turns catching sheep and Mom administered the minerals that I mixed up (1/2 tablespoon of dolomite, ½ teaspoon of copper sulfate, and ½ teaspoon of sulfur). It went much smoother than last time—probably because we were not trimming hooves also. We were done by 4:30 and then it was time for dinner and the evening chores.
As soon as the milking was done and the kefir was bottle on Tuesday we headed to the garden. Mom worked on weeding in her “Martha’s Vineyard” and Clayton and I worked on prepping the carrot bed for planting on Thursday. First we did a little ant warfare. There was a large ant mound in one of the garden beds in the West Garden Tunnel—so we dug a few shovels out of it and put them in a bucket and quickly drove the golf-cart over to a very large ant hill near the poultry barn. We disturbed the ants and then we dumped the bucket of ants on top. There was too much grass mixed into the ant hill so I couldn’t get a shovel of ants from it—but I found another large ant hill and got a big shovel full of the mound and its ants and then jumped into the golf-cart holding the shovel while Clayton quickly drove back to the West Garden Tunnel. I then added my shovel and ants to the disturbed ant bed in the tunnel—and a few days later when we went back the ants were all gone. At the mound near the poultry barn Clayton found a huge pile of dead ants—and a practically deserted ant hotel. You do not have to use chemicals to kill ants—just mix one ant colony with another ant colony and they will have a full out war to the death.
Once we were finished making war with ants I did some weeding while Clayton added a little bit of cow manure compost and a lot of composted wood chips/mushroom compost mix to a 25 foot long row in the West Tunnel. Then we went in search for some wood ash—of which the ashes bucket was practically empty so I dumped the ash tray from the wood burning stove into the bucket and we headed back to the garden where I then gave the future carrot row a good dusting of wood ash. It was then time for lunch, making yogurt and packaging eggs—while Steve transported chicks from the brooder to the pasture and Mom continued to weed in the garden. When the eggs were done I caught a ride with Papa to town. Shopping is not my forte and there is never a convenient time to go to town. Alas though we needed a few things—fresh fruit especially (the hardest thing to keep available when you only go grocery shopping once every six weeks or so). Papa and I zig-zagged back and forth all over town going from one place to another starting with dog food and finishing with ice for the deliveries and it was after 5:00 by the time we headed home. I called Mom and begged her to please put some rice on for dinner for it would take an hour to cook and the fish and broccoli I could cook up real quick was I got home.
Wednesday mornings and Wednesday afternoons are as different as night and day—one is spent full speed ahead and the other is spent relaxing. We usually have company—so there are bathrooms to clean, furniture to dust, and dishes to wash. Plus we have to get ready for the delivery which means putting in the last minute orders and packing. In the midst of those things (cleaning and packing) we have the morning chores—of which mine is always milking. Papa has all the animals to move (sheep, cows and laying chickens) before he can leave for the delivery. With Clayton here he can help me milk which frees Mom up to work on the cleaning and packaging the meat for the delivery. All the rush usually comes to an end around noon when Papa leaves for Jacksonville. At that time my two piano students show up and I spend the next hour teaching piano. They are advanced enough now that my hour is usually spent enjoying some beautiful music. Last Wednesday when the lessons were over I grabbed my cow calendars and headed to the milking parlor to transfer the info from my marker board calendar to my paper calendar. I keep a calendar in the milking parlor so that when a cow goes into heat I can write it on the calendar before I forget—because I can never remember anything from the parlor to the house. I can also mark birthdays and due dates and weaning and drying off times. I use permanent markers to write on the big office wall calendar—but some colors seem to disappear quickly (blue, green and red last the longest—black and purple quickly fade away). Every few months I try to remember to transfer the info to paper in my files—and this time I waited a little too long and I had a hard time reading some of my notes. Oops! Once all the paperwork was caught up to date I headed upstairs to the sewing room to work on a new jumper. I love apple décor and years ago I used to make myself a new apple dress or jumper every year—until I was overloaded with apples. Then two years ago my last apple jumper rotted and it was time to find some more apple material—and now I must find the time to sew it all together. I also squeezed in some relaxing and reading before it was time to cook dinner (a frittata and French toast).
Mom helped me milk the cows on Thursday and Clayton went out to pasture with Steve to take care of the bulls and heifers, and the young laying hens, broiler chickens, turkeys and ducks. Mom then headed to the garden to weed and Clayton and I headed to the pumpkin patch. The Seminole pumpkins have done exceptionally well this year. Usually the vines die back in July and the pumpkins are ready for harvest—but this year they vined for a long time before they set pumpkins and it was August before we harvested the first pumpkins (a little over thirty to be exact). I needed to harvest more pumpkins—but the drying racks in the barn were full of the last batch and onions. So Clayton and I carried all 30 pumpkins up to the cool storage, and then we cleaned up all the onions separating them into two baskets (very good and not so good—those that need to be taken care of now). With the drying racks empty we then filled one of them back up with freshly harvested pumpkins—thirty something more. It was then time for lunch and then we headed to the garden. Mom and Papa put bamboo up on the grape trellises and then Mom continued to weed. It was Steve’s birthday and he asked for the afternoon off. Clayton broadforked the carrot bed and I smoothed out the soil—and then we marked seven rows in the 30 inch wide bed and we began the long process of planting little carrot seeds spaced just right. We planted Bolero, Kyoto Red, a Rainbow mix and Long Imperator carrots—practically every packet I owned! Now we water and sit back and wait for them to sprout. Once the carrots were tucked into bed we weeded the sunflowers and the green beans. When our work day was over I quickly filled my hands with the flower tops of different celosias, and some seed heads of marigolds, Rudbeckia, and Tithonias. It was time to gather seeds for next year’s flower crops.
Friday we quickly got all our chores done in the morning and had the grand delight to head over to a dear farmer friend’s farm. Jesse Green is 85 years old—but still runs his 200 acre farm all by himself. He plants and harvests a garden twice a year, juices sugar cane and turns it into cane syrup, makes his own hay, raises heritage corn for cornmeal and grits, rotates his cows from pasture to pasture and loads his own cows up to take them to the butcher or auction. He also takes care of a herd of pigs and is an avid reader of Regenerative farming books and magazines. He has a wealth of knowledge and loves to share it with others. Since Clayton is new to farming we thought that a trip to Jesse’s would be a great field trip. There was much to glean and we all had a good laugh when Clayton asked Jesse what he thought to be the best beef cattle breed. Jesse said, “When you take the skin off of each breed they all look the same!” He also said that the best breed is “the one that you like”. We learned how to tell when a cow is “fat” enough to go for meat, and that after a banana tree produces bananas you have to cut that tree down for it will not produce anymore bananas—until it grows another tree.
Our week ended with Papa getting the cattle trailer pressure washed and ready to go get new lights and a paint job. Mom mowed some more in the yard—each week she mows a little bit more. The grass is two feet tall since we didn’t have a lawn mower all summer. Yes, the whole yard does need to be mowed, but we don’t have enough time in our days to rake the whole yard and pick up all the grass (which will be well over ten truck loads I am sure). I finally got around to making and bottling some kombucha, ironing, and taking care of a customer. It was then time to start dinner—Cheese-Crusted Chicken Thighs, baked pumpkin, and green peas. I was in the middle of making the topping for the chicken when Clayton came in from gathering the eggs and was willing to help with dinner. I was glad because sometimes when you cook from scratch things just happens to take a little longer to prepare than you were expecting. The pumpkin needed to be peeled and cut up and it was already 5:15 and I really wanted to be eating by 6:00. Clayton took care of the pumpkin—they need a man to cut them up anyway for they are so hard! I finished the chicken and then I got the pumpkin ready for the oven by adding cinnamon, maple syrup, butter and salt. Then I placed them in the oven at 400 for about an hour. While dinner cooked I did up the dishes from making kombucha and dinner. Then I asked Clayton to help with the onions. We had collected a basket full of onions that were not storage quality and some were going fast so I peeled off the bad and then Clayton sliced the onions on the mandoline slicer and placed them on the dehydrator. Dehydrating is a great way to store onions that won’t keep long term and then I can use them when I make broth—along with the dehydrated carrots and celery leaves. When dinner was over and the dishes were done I sat at the piano and practiced for a while and then I took my weary body to bed. How nice it is that a good night’s rest can rejuvenate you and make you ready for a new day.
As this new week unfolds, all of us here in Florida have our eyes on a certain hurricane named Ian. Time will tell his path, and time will tell his wrath. We are praying for God’s mercy, but know that we may have to do some preparing for a storm.
Serving you with Gladness,
Tiare