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Hi Everyone,
October has arrived and the weather is gorgeous. The temps are in the 80’s by day and the 60’s by night. The wind is blowing pretty strong and here I sit at the computer typing away at my journal when I have to admit that front porch is beckoning. We have spent the last few weeks “here a little and there a little” adding touches of fall to our porches, dining room and living room. One of those touches was a couple of the softest, coziest blankets I have ever felt—they make you long for cooler weather so that you can curl up in them while sitting outside on the porch. They remind me of the years when I used to tell Mom that I loved winter because I got to wear all kinds of pretty sweaters—that was before I actually had to work outside in the winter (I prefer summer now). Anyway, I look forward to one day being able to curl up under one of those blankets and read a good book.
As soon as breakfast was over Monday morning, Mama and I headed to the milk house to package some duck eggs. We have a total of 29 ducks now, and we get a little over 20 eggs a day. We started selling duck eggs when we only had 2 ducks—which meant we only had a dozen duck eggs to sell per week. I had to tell most of the people that ordered duck eggs “Sorry, sold out”. Then we ordered 10 more ducks and a few months later we were getting a dozen eggs a day—which gave us 7 dozen per week. I was still telling people “Sorry, sold out” so last spring we ordered 20 new ducks. Now we get close to two dozen eggs a day, making it close to 14 dozen per week. So far I have not had to tell anyone “Sorry, sold out.” Now I need to say “Duck eggs! Come and get them!” Papa likes to add a few duck eggs to our scrambled eggs every morning for breakfast—and you don’t even know they are there. My favorite way to use duck eggs is in my baking, and my favorite recipe is “Blender Custard Pie” and after spending a few hours weeding in the courtyard Monday I decided to come inside and bake us a creamy custard pie. When the pie was done I popped a turkey breast in the oven and headed to the garden to pick a bucket full of flowers. We have had zinnias growing in the garden since summer—but I have never gotten around to picking a bouquet. I filled the bucket with orange, red, yellow, white and pink zinnias of all shapes and sizes. To help round out the bouquets I picked some goldenrod, ginger leaves, cherry tree branches full of burnt red leaves, and some red pinecone gingers. I get the joy of gathering the flowers and fillers—and then I bring the bucket inside and set it on the kitchen counter and then Mama takes over. She grabbed some vases and made one big bouquet with all the different varieties and then she filled a bunch of little vases with the left over zinnias.
Tuesday we milked the cows and then Mama spent the day on the mower. I bottled kefir, made yogurt and headed to the East Garden Tunnel to do some weeding. If you stay on top of it there really aren’t very many weeds to pull. The seeds that I planted a few weeks back have sprouted and it will not be long before I will need to pot them up or transplant them out (I heavily seeded them). After lunch we all gathered together to package eggs, and then we called it a day because we were finally blessed with some rain—a whole quarter of an inch bringing the total amount of rain for the month of September to a whopping one inch! Yes, it is pretty dry around here but thanks to the clay soil that is hiding about a foot or two under our topsoil, the grasses are still doing well.
Wednesday’s start off very busy as we have to get the cows milked and all the orders packed and the receipts printed for the Jacksonville delivery by noon when Papa has to leave. Since I added the order cut off time of Tuesday night at 6:00, our Wednesday mornings have gone a lot smoother—it was really stressful trying to fill all the last minute orders. Then about the time that Papa heads out the door, my piano student heads in the door. It is always a relief when I finally get to sit in my chair and listen as my student plays the piano. Then the rest of the day is pretty much spent relaxing—you got to once in a while! Come 5:00 or 6:00 though it is time to head outside to lock up the ducks, the turkeys and separate the calves. Last week we got the ducks locked up and the turkeys locked up, and got everything set up to separate the calves. The two youngest calves were still in the milking field—because they refused to go through the gate when Steve put the cows back. I had gone out to try to help him, but one took off running down the lane toward the pond so we gave up. I figured that they would get hungry and want their mama before night fall. We decided that the best way to get the calves back to their mama’s was to bring the mama’s to them. So we opened the gates and the mama’s went straight for their calves. Then we brought in the rest of the calves—and a few of the herd came too. As we were separating the calves we could only count eight, but we thought that there were nine—or were there only eight. All of a sudden we couldn’t remember how many calves we were supposed to separate. I didn’t walk over to the far corner of the trees—because I wanted to believe that there were only eight calves. By the time we got everyone where they belonged for the night (the two young calves back with their mamas, the herd back in their grazing field, and the calves locked up in the panel pens) Papa was home from Jacksonville. He was at the van unloading the ice chests when we drove up to him on the golf-cart and asked him how many calves we were supposed to be separating. He replied, “9”. Oops! So we grabbed a flashlight—because it was getting darker by the minute and headed back out to the cow field. Sure enough in the back corner of the field in the trees we found number 9. Little Julee (born July 4th) was going to have the privilege of staying with the herd all night. Thankfully her mama has a really big udder so there would still be some milk for us the next morning.
Thursday found me in the house starting some salves. I am totally sold out and am having the hardest time getting more made. First I have to combine the herbs in some olive oil and then they have to cook on low heat (150 F) for 24 to 48 hours—whenever I remember to turn off the oven. Then they sit for a few days—or weeks, until I can get around to straining the herbs out of the oil. The final step is to mix the beeswax with the oils and pour them into the jars. I have two salves ready for the beeswax stage and three salves ready for the straining stage. I got three salve oils mixed up and placed in the oven Thursday before lunch, and when lunch was done I headed for the garden. Mom asked me, “Don’t you have work to do in the house?” I told her, “Yes, but I have cabin fever and have spent too long inside I must get outside for a few hours!” She had to mow, and she didn’t want me having to work in the garden by myself. Working with someone is much more fun—but when I need to be outside I do not care if I have help or not. The tunnels were weeded, and I didn’t feel like shoveling dirt in order to put in more woodchip walkways—so I camped out in the raised beds and pulled weeds like there was no tomorrow. The soil in the raised beds is so light and fluffy, rich and loamy so pulling weeds is really easy. My hardest part was staying focused. There are weeds everywhere and I had the hardest time being methodical about it. I would start “here” and then I would need a tool “over there” and go and get it and stay there to pull the weeds in that area. Then I would stand up and see another spot and head over to it. The weeds were quickly disappearing from the beds and walkways, but it looked more like a half finished puzzle than a freshly painted landscape. When Mama finished her mowing she came to the garden to help—and she helped me get everything to the clean look. We accomplished a nice size section of the garden, and it looks much better—as long as you overlook the large mounds of weeds that are piled up high in a few spots of the walkways waiting for Steve to find time to take them to the trash pile (a low area on the farm where all the thick weeds, grass clippings, dead branches and such are placed to decompose). It was close to 5:00 when I finally headed back to the house—mama jumped back on the lawn mower and mowed the garden. At the house I found Papa fixing to head to the pond to check it out, and I decided to catch a ride and go with him. I saw a cormorant come up for some air before he darted back under the water to go fishing. I didn’t get back to the house until 5:30—and I had dinner to cook. Mom had suggested using the Instant Pot to cook some sweet and sour meatballs and I was going to cook some rice to go along. I didn’t know how to cook the meatballs in the Instant Pot so I spend the next 20 minutes researching recipes—and to my total dismay they all called for frozen meatballs. I only had a thawed pack of ground beef that I was hoping to turn into meatballs. It was now going on 6:00 (when dinner is supposed to be done) and my idea of putting dinner on to cook and then going and getting a shower was now out of the question. I needed a meal that would be done in thirty minutes that used ground beef. The rice was out for it took an hour to cook. I thought and thought and finally remembered an old recipe called Ragout. It was simple and quick. I browned the beef, and then added in layers of sliced onion, a couple of thinly sliced carrots and a few thinly sliced white sweet potatoes. Then I seasoned it with salt and pepper and poured some broth over the top. I covered it with a lid and headed for the shower since it had to cook for thirty minutes. Dinner would be done at 7:00! Thirty minutes later I returned to the kitchen to serve up dinner and was devastated when I took the lid off the pot and found the vegetables still very raw and hard! UGH!!!! I had forgotten to bring it all to a boil before I turned it down to simmer. I had no idea what to do for dinner now. Papa headed out to finish his chores since he had come in for dinner—that was not ready. I was contemplating serving French toast and eggs—but I really wasn’t craving that. Then I thought—“Hey, the ragout only takes 30 minutes to cook and Papa will be outside for 30 minutes so get that heat cranking and cook that ragout!” That is just what I did too—and we ate dinner at 7:30 that night.
We had a batch of chickens to process on Friday. We were expecting to do 60 to 70 of them, but when Mama and Papa went out to collect them at 6:30 in the morning they found that about half of them were too small. When we couldn’t find feed a few weeks ago we had to ration the feed—and evidently some chickens ate more than their fair share of rations and didn’t share with their coop mates. Therefore we only had 39 chickens to process, and no one complained for it just meant that we would get done earlier. When we were done Mama and I headed to the bank and then did a little shopping. When we got home I cooked dinner and then after dinner a friend (Hannah) came over to get some milk and brought her sister (Rachel) with her. I have known Hannah and Rachel since they were four and eight—I was their babysitter. Then as we all reached our twenties and thirties Rachel and I became friends and she would come and stay with me for a week here and there and hang out with me on the farm. During lambing season she would come over when we had bottle lambs and help feed them, and when she had babysitting jobs she would bring the children over to see the animals. Then close to five years ago Rachel got married and moved away. I saw her for a little bit when she came to town after she had her first baby, but that was three years ago. Rachel and her husband were in town for the weekend and since Hannah comes every Friday to get milk I told her she just had to bring Rachel and the babies (yes, she has two adorable little girls now). It was nice to catch up on what is going on in her life, and show her the new things on the farm.
Saturday was a delivery day and a catch up day. Once we got the cows milked and the orders packed we rested for a little bit and then Mama and I packaged the duck eggs while Papa made the deliveries to Gainesville. Then Mama mowed some paddocks to even out the grasses after the cows were moved to a new field (they never eat it evenly). I worked on the ironing for an hour before it was time to start dinner, and that was my week in a nutshell.
Now I am going to go grab me a hot bagel and sit outside on the porch and enjoy the beautiful weather—and I think that it just might be cool enough to curl up under that knew cozy blanket.
Serving you with Gladness,
Tiare