That's a recipe for moose stew. Just in case you are having better luck hunting than we are.
I jest.
Actually, that seems to be what is in our garden. I can't recall if I mentioned the humble potato patch. The story goes like this: Never ask you husband to accompany you to the garden store in spring. He might be overwhelmed with all the choices of possible potato crops and decide you need to plant 15 pounds of seed potato.
For non-gardener types, that's a LOT of potatoes. I think I planted 60-70 potato plants. Considering that each potato plant yields 2-6 potatoes, I would say that I would be doing MY part, should we end up in another potato famine. Since that does not seem overwhelmingly likely, I am turning to readers for help.
Please, for the love of all that is good, post potato recipes in the comments. I welcome any and all recipes, though I would prefer not to eat potato soup from now until next year's harvest.
And anyone that knows ways to preserve or store potatoes, speak up. I have so many potatoes that I don't even think I will be able to give them away. (As a side note: family should cautiously open Christmas gifts this year. You all like potatoes, right?? Yup. You can thank me later.)
Meanwhile, a moose has been holding me hostage. It started with J, who decided to cut down a large number of trees on the property. (This decision was in response to several complaints from a wife about not being able to see wildlife lurking in the woods, as well as requests for more farmland. All of my good garden space was taken up by yukons, reds, and bake kings. Ahem.)
I digress.
J proceded to cut down the forest. I can officially see the wildlife lurking about. Um, the wildlife is also wildly attracted to those delectable birch, willow, and cottonwood leaves that were JUST out if reach on those trees. Cutting down the forest essentially the same as opening a Golden Corral in your backyard for the moose, only without the $9 cover charge. A huge cow moose has been grazing for a few days. While this provides lovely photo ops, it also prohibits being able to turn little girls loose to rIde bikes, play in the yard, or even the ability to allow the farmer to let chickens in or out in a timely manner. Apparently, the moose's favorite dining times coincide with exactly when Ricky Bobby likes to be let out, and about the same time as te hens like to be locked back in.
*sigh*
She is a good size moose, and several times a day I lament the fact that we don't live in a hunting area, and that you can't just go shooting a cow moose. (Restrictions apply). It would make hunting season so easy. And so OVER. And it would be a nice addition to the potatoes. Alas, I must relinquish my husband to the woods for yet another week, to try his luck.
This is why it is called "hunting" and not "shooting".
In other news, the chickens are frustrating me. I want eggs. The older hens are going through a molt. I am rationing the precious eggs. I refuse to buy them. I have chickens. It would be insane to buy eggs, right? The young hens seem to be more interested in downing bag upon bag of organic feed, with no thought to how they plan to repay the debt. I am starting to notice decent sized drumsticks on them all.
The rest of the farm is slowing down. Other than harvesting potaotes and allowing Beans and Nugget to raid what's left of the snap pea vines, there is little left growing. Some ailing carrots, some beets and lettuce (all bolting and destined for the chicken coop), a handful more onions, and some ailing pumpkin vines that have flowered but have little interest in forming actual pumpkins (so it seems). The greenhouse holds a few more tomatoes trying to ripen, a cucumber or two, and a handful more carrots, but it is not likely to produce much more.
I've come to terms with a token nod from the garden this year. Fir our first year breaking ground, and managing the garden among toddlers, well...
At least there is the potatoes.
Next year holds better planning, and better soil. I hope.
There is a more permanent chill in the air. The woodstove seems to be in operation at least once a day for a short fire to knock the chill off. The last couple days have not even crept above 60. The next few weeks will be spent dismantling the garden... Harvesting what's left, somehow preserving it, then tilling in all that lovely byproduct of chicken farming.
And stacking wood. Lots and lots of stacking wood.
A cool breeze stirs up outside. I sip an Earl Grey tea and watch the moose taunt Ricky Bobby. I can hear him
clucking his disapproval at her mere precense in the garden. I chuckle and wonder if she would eat some of the potaotes for
me. The wood fire crackles. The house smells like autumn. I decide to pull a chair close to the door so
I can knit as I watch the moose eat what's left of the forest. I hope she moves on before dark, so I can get the birds back
in the coop.
I look forward to potato recipes from y'all! Extra "points" if they are gluten free, but Nugget has recovered from the dairy allergy, so we gladly welcome cheesey, milky deliciousness with our potatoes! And if your recipe contains gluten, don't panic. Post it anyway. I'm good at adapting, at least in the kitchen. Any superb recipes we try will ge reprinted here with appropriate credit and honorable
mention on the blog! That goes for preserving tips as well.
Until Next Time,
Happy Moose Trails!
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Friday, August 20, 2010
Mending
I am on the mend. I'm not (much) of a complainer when I'm sick, but this one has been a toughie! Yesterday, J even called out from
work to take care of me and the girls, as I pretty much hit that level of sickness where you just become good for nuthin'.
J did a great job. The girls were happy to have their Pappa home. The chickens didn't starve. I didn't have to make my own hot tea. Other than nursing Nugget, nothing was required of me. Other than being woken up a few times by Beans to find out if I was feeling better, I slept most of the day away.
Oh, that was nice.
Feeling better is nicer, though. And while I'm not 100%, I am better than good for nuthin', so J headed off to work while i begged the girls back to bed. "We are laying in bed like slugs today!" I declared.
They weren't buying it, though they did humor me for a short while. And they were content to have a low-key day today.
The weather helps.
Yup. I'm gonna say that autumn is creeping in on us.
The temps hover in the 60s. The nights dip into the 40s. Dark happens each evening, earlier and earlier each day. The chickens turn in to roost before I even head out to lock them up for the night. They fluff their feathers in a huff at the chilly air I let into the coop in the morning.
As I went about the daily chores, I noticed the leaves turning yellow, and noticed more than a few piles of leaves falling to the ground.
This IS my favorite time of year.
When J called from work today, we found ourselves simultaneously longing for hot apple cider. I'll have to see if I can find some this early in the year. Now if I could just find a pumpkin patch, I would feel complete.
Alas... I've had no luck locating one in Interior Alaska. (Though I am futiley trying to grow them in my garden!)
As the sun sinks in the backyard, I realize it won't be long before I need a lantern to accompany me to the hen house at night. And a coat.
We had a fire in the wood stove last night. A little too warm by the time we were settled, really, but the season is coming.
***
For those who have asked:
No, we haven't gotten Internet at home. The iPhone manages to pick up the 2G network (yes, the TWO G), as long as the wind isn't blowing too hard. (No. I'm not kidding. Or exaggerating.) Hopefully that explains the sudden increase in typos, strange formatting, and occassionally bizarre sentences and words that don't make sense (darn you, auto-spell!) They drive me crazy, too. I am normally WAY too fussy and ahem, retentive, to tolerate poor grammar, incomplete thoughts, or otherwise incongruent writing. Unfortunately, if I try to spell-check, proofread, or edit, strange and bizarre things happen- like my posts get eaten.
Farm News:
the old hens are coming out of their egg strike. Thank goodness. I actually had enough eggs to scramble some
the other day, instead of rationing them out for baking.
The new hens are still not laying.
It shouldn't be long though... The new roosters are desperately trying to court the ladies. This is a sure sign that the roosters think the gals are old enough to start leaving the potential next generation in the nest boxes.
Also, the new roosters have been testing out their vocals. Seems we have four new roosters in our flock. Their pathetic new crows are giving Ricky Bobby the fits. He spends most of each day at the fence that separates him from these new "enemies", crowing out his own place in the barnyard, and puffing himself up to look twice his actual size. Poor fellow. I remind him several times a day that these new boys are stewpot bound. He cares not.
Cock-a-doodle-do.
I hope our neighbors don't hate us by butchering time.
Getting dusky. I am off to tuck the hens into bed before it gets too dark.
Until Next Time,
Happy Moose Trails
work to take care of me and the girls, as I pretty much hit that level of sickness where you just become good for nuthin'.
J did a great job. The girls were happy to have their Pappa home. The chickens didn't starve. I didn't have to make my own hot tea. Other than nursing Nugget, nothing was required of me. Other than being woken up a few times by Beans to find out if I was feeling better, I slept most of the day away.
Oh, that was nice.
Feeling better is nicer, though. And while I'm not 100%, I am better than good for nuthin', so J headed off to work while i begged the girls back to bed. "We are laying in bed like slugs today!" I declared.
They weren't buying it, though they did humor me for a short while. And they were content to have a low-key day today.
The weather helps.
Yup. I'm gonna say that autumn is creeping in on us.
The temps hover in the 60s. The nights dip into the 40s. Dark happens each evening, earlier and earlier each day. The chickens turn in to roost before I even head out to lock them up for the night. They fluff their feathers in a huff at the chilly air I let into the coop in the morning.
As I went about the daily chores, I noticed the leaves turning yellow, and noticed more than a few piles of leaves falling to the ground.
This IS my favorite time of year.
When J called from work today, we found ourselves simultaneously longing for hot apple cider. I'll have to see if I can find some this early in the year. Now if I could just find a pumpkin patch, I would feel complete.
Alas... I've had no luck locating one in Interior Alaska. (Though I am futiley trying to grow them in my garden!)
As the sun sinks in the backyard, I realize it won't be long before I need a lantern to accompany me to the hen house at night. And a coat.
We had a fire in the wood stove last night. A little too warm by the time we were settled, really, but the season is coming.
***
For those who have asked:
No, we haven't gotten Internet at home. The iPhone manages to pick up the 2G network (yes, the TWO G), as long as the wind isn't blowing too hard. (No. I'm not kidding. Or exaggerating.) Hopefully that explains the sudden increase in typos, strange formatting, and occassionally bizarre sentences and words that don't make sense (darn you, auto-spell!) They drive me crazy, too. I am normally WAY too fussy and ahem, retentive, to tolerate poor grammar, incomplete thoughts, or otherwise incongruent writing. Unfortunately, if I try to spell-check, proofread, or edit, strange and bizarre things happen- like my posts get eaten.
Farm News:
the old hens are coming out of their egg strike. Thank goodness. I actually had enough eggs to scramble some
the other day, instead of rationing them out for baking.
The new hens are still not laying.
It shouldn't be long though... The new roosters are desperately trying to court the ladies. This is a sure sign that the roosters think the gals are old enough to start leaving the potential next generation in the nest boxes.
Also, the new roosters have been testing out their vocals. Seems we have four new roosters in our flock. Their pathetic new crows are giving Ricky Bobby the fits. He spends most of each day at the fence that separates him from these new "enemies", crowing out his own place in the barnyard, and puffing himself up to look twice his actual size. Poor fellow. I remind him several times a day that these new boys are stewpot bound. He cares not.
Cock-a-doodle-do.
I hope our neighbors don't hate us by butchering time.
Getting dusky. I am off to tuck the hens into bed before it gets too dark.
Until Next Time,
Happy Moose Trails
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Tupped Up
Sorry for the lack of posting. The girls definitely decided my life would not be complete without their cold. I've been mouth breathing all week and really would just prefer to be in a hot bath or sleeping than anything else.
While moms don't really get sick days (not the laying around in bed all day, luxurious hot bath soak types, anyway), Beans has been bringing me juice boxes and tissues while Nugget pats me on the head and says, "Oh! Baby!"
J has proven himself as the best husband in the world... taking over homestead and farm chores (because chickens don't care if you are sick), doing the "hard" (monotonous) work with the kids, and even cooking a couple meals, and doing it without complaint. I haven't even once heard how he could be out stalking moose right now. That IS a good sick day!
The girls are tucked in early tonight. J even volunteered to wash the dishes and lock up the chickens. The tea kettle is going and I am just the right kind of tired and sick to hunker down under a good momma-made blanket (MY momma, that is! Makes me feel like she's here tucking me in on a sick day) with a hot tea and a new knitting book- until I get sleepy enough to doze off and sleep some of this cold off.
Meanwhile, the woodstove is crackling. It never made it out of the 60s today, and the evening air is around 46F.
The sky is overcast and rainy. The perfect day for sleeping off feeling crummy.
Until Next Time,
Happy Moose Trails
While moms don't really get sick days (not the laying around in bed all day, luxurious hot bath soak types, anyway), Beans has been bringing me juice boxes and tissues while Nugget pats me on the head and says, "Oh! Baby!"
J has proven himself as the best husband in the world... taking over homestead and farm chores (because chickens don't care if you are sick), doing the "hard" (monotonous) work with the kids, and even cooking a couple meals, and doing it without complaint. I haven't even once heard how he could be out stalking moose right now. That IS a good sick day!
The girls are tucked in early tonight. J even volunteered to wash the dishes and lock up the chickens. The tea kettle is going and I am just the right kind of tired and sick to hunker down under a good momma-made blanket (MY momma, that is! Makes me feel like she's here tucking me in on a sick day) with a hot tea and a new knitting book- until I get sleepy enough to doze off and sleep some of this cold off.
Meanwhile, the woodstove is crackling. It never made it out of the 60s today, and the evening air is around 46F.
The sky is overcast and rainy. The perfect day for sleeping off feeling crummy.
Until Next Time,
Happy Moose Trails
Sunday, August 15, 2010
What A Tease
Oh, Autumn!
Such a tease.
I was folding lovely, cozy, warm long sleeves today... In 80 degree heat.
Ok, so I feel a little sheepish compaining about a "measley" 80 degrees when most people are sweating in 100+, but for us... Well, it's uncomfortably warm. And after such wonderful football weather, too!
That is the nature of early Autumn, though... Especially in Alaska.
The sky still holds promise, though. The sun hangs a little lower in the sky these days, and the willows and aspens have started to change color. I wonder what the drive to Fairbanks is going to look like this week? Seems like the drive through Salcha and up to Fairbanks always shows a little more progress through the changing seasons.
The weekend passed uneventfully.
Well... Mostly.
The girls woke this morning and each of them let out a series of sneezes, complete with boogers hanging to the chin.
A virus.
Just what I wanted.
On the other hand, it explains why no amount of consolation, story reading, or Popsicles made anyone happy last night, and why I was up a half dozen times tucking everyone back into bed well after everyone should have been dreaming.
Ah, well.
Sick girls are also sleepy girls, which usually means a very S-L-O-W pace here. When the girls are sick, I throw all rules and routines out the door. We eat Popsicles for breakfast. And maybe lunch. And dinner. We watch movies all day. We drink unlimited quantity of juice (at least until a couple hours before bedtime, because otherwise I am guaranteed to be up several times in the night for the potty). I offer healthy food and stories and such, but other than nap time and bed time, I force nothing on sick days.
With the girls content to drain juice boxes and watch "The Bee Movie" for the zillionth time in a row today (Beans' favorite), I attempted to ignore my own throat tickling and begged my own case of the sniffles to be on account of dust or something.
Moms don't really get sick days, ya know.
I grabbed a pitchfork and headed to the chicken coop. It needed cleaning. Bad. The scent of ammonia was enough to clear my sinuses, and I shoveled manure out of the coop. I also fussed a bit, trying to make the nest boxes look like very attractive places to lay eggs. I do hope the hens start laying soon. A $25 bag of organic feed and a $8 bag of barley once a week starts to add up. Time for some of these gals to earn their keep!
While most of the birds scrambled off in a panic when I entered the coop, a couple poked their heads back in through to door to check on my progress. They are content to listen to me talk to myself out there. I tried asking them when they would start laying eggs. They only clucked dejectedly in reply. I hope that means, "tomorrow" in chickenese.
Meanwhile, "Tommy Boy", the largest of our two turkeys, has taken to following me around like a lovestruck teenager. He comes to the fence and coos at me. If I'm in the yard, he fans his tail feathers and struts around like he's the king of the hill. When I tell him he's not my type and shoo him off, he sulks, and then chases the hens around the yard. Then he comes back and coos at me, as if to say, "See how big and tough I am? Give me some sugar, baby."
Yes. I know I personify my Thanksgiving dinner too much.
I collected a few meager offerings from the garden, including our first ripe tomato fro
the greenhouse. Beans and I aet half of it, and added the other half to our dinner. Beans wants me to be sure to say we had steak soup for dinner. "Because I'm do not like beef stew, ok Momma?"
For the record, the ingredients in "steak soup" are the same as "beef soup" but if calling it "steak soup" means she eats something besides Popsicles today, well then, steak soup it was.
Nugget decided the only thing worth eating today was momma milk. So it was.
The house is quiet. The ceiling fans have a steady rythym as they move warm air around the house. Both girls have a little nasaly, wheezy snore as they doze in their beds. The sun sinks a little lower than this time yesterday.
I sip on hot tea. Alas, I can no longer pretend that I don't have the girls' cold.
Time to tuck the birds in for the night, and then do the same for myself.
Until Next Time,
Happy Moose Trails
Such a tease.
I was folding lovely, cozy, warm long sleeves today... In 80 degree heat.
Ok, so I feel a little sheepish compaining about a "measley" 80 degrees when most people are sweating in 100+, but for us... Well, it's uncomfortably warm. And after such wonderful football weather, too!
That is the nature of early Autumn, though... Especially in Alaska.
The sky still holds promise, though. The sun hangs a little lower in the sky these days, and the willows and aspens have started to change color. I wonder what the drive to Fairbanks is going to look like this week? Seems like the drive through Salcha and up to Fairbanks always shows a little more progress through the changing seasons.
The weekend passed uneventfully.
Well... Mostly.
The girls woke this morning and each of them let out a series of sneezes, complete with boogers hanging to the chin.
A virus.
Just what I wanted.
On the other hand, it explains why no amount of consolation, story reading, or Popsicles made anyone happy last night, and why I was up a half dozen times tucking everyone back into bed well after everyone should have been dreaming.
Ah, well.
Sick girls are also sleepy girls, which usually means a very S-L-O-W pace here. When the girls are sick, I throw all rules and routines out the door. We eat Popsicles for breakfast. And maybe lunch. And dinner. We watch movies all day. We drink unlimited quantity of juice (at least until a couple hours before bedtime, because otherwise I am guaranteed to be up several times in the night for the potty). I offer healthy food and stories and such, but other than nap time and bed time, I force nothing on sick days.
With the girls content to drain juice boxes and watch "The Bee Movie" for the zillionth time in a row today (Beans' favorite), I attempted to ignore my own throat tickling and begged my own case of the sniffles to be on account of dust or something.
Moms don't really get sick days, ya know.
I grabbed a pitchfork and headed to the chicken coop. It needed cleaning. Bad. The scent of ammonia was enough to clear my sinuses, and I shoveled manure out of the coop. I also fussed a bit, trying to make the nest boxes look like very attractive places to lay eggs. I do hope the hens start laying soon. A $25 bag of organic feed and a $8 bag of barley once a week starts to add up. Time for some of these gals to earn their keep!
While most of the birds scrambled off in a panic when I entered the coop, a couple poked their heads back in through to door to check on my progress. They are content to listen to me talk to myself out there. I tried asking them when they would start laying eggs. They only clucked dejectedly in reply. I hope that means, "tomorrow" in chickenese.
Meanwhile, "Tommy Boy", the largest of our two turkeys, has taken to following me around like a lovestruck teenager. He comes to the fence and coos at me. If I'm in the yard, he fans his tail feathers and struts around like he's the king of the hill. When I tell him he's not my type and shoo him off, he sulks, and then chases the hens around the yard. Then he comes back and coos at me, as if to say, "See how big and tough I am? Give me some sugar, baby."
Yes. I know I personify my Thanksgiving dinner too much.
I collected a few meager offerings from the garden, including our first ripe tomato fro
the greenhouse. Beans and I aet half of it, and added the other half to our dinner. Beans wants me to be sure to say we had steak soup for dinner. "Because I'm do not like beef stew, ok Momma?"
For the record, the ingredients in "steak soup" are the same as "beef soup" but if calling it "steak soup" means she eats something besides Popsicles today, well then, steak soup it was.
Nugget decided the only thing worth eating today was momma milk. So it was.
The house is quiet. The ceiling fans have a steady rythym as they move warm air around the house. Both girls have a little nasaly, wheezy snore as they doze in their beds. The sun sinks a little lower than this time yesterday.
I sip on hot tea. Alas, I can no longer pretend that I don't have the girls' cold.
Time to tuck the birds in for the night, and then do the same for myself.
Until Next Time,
Happy Moose Trails
Friday, August 13, 2010
Rattle, Rattle, Plink!
I love the sound of canning!
If the house is quiet enough (ours usually is), there is the steady hum of water boiling, a gentle rattle of the canning pot lid as the water heats to a rolling boil. A steady drone of play from the girls comes from the "toy room", interrupted only by minor skirmishes or even more dreadful prolonged silences.
For the record, today's prolonged silence was courtesy of Nugget, who found a lone apricot slice on the floor and decided the toy room walls needed sprucing up. Beans was also quiet, as she was licking apricot off the walls.
With the last batch of fruit in the canner, I tucked babies in for naps. As I turned the stove off, the rattle faded away, the last of the steam hissed to a stop. As I sat with a cup of coffee on the couch, surveying the overall state of chaos (canning supplies fill the sink, toys scattered on the floor, apricot clinging to the wall), I am at once exhausted, knowing the cleaning up waits for me, and comforted by the intermittent "PLINK! PLINK!" of each jar of apricots, peaches, and cranberries sealing themselves. Nothing lives in a vacuum... Except for some sweet treats for this winter lining my kitchen counter.
Today has a definite sense of "football season". When we lived in Alabama, we were serious spectators of SEC college football. (I could care less about professional football... But college boys on a football field running into eachother? THAT makes for a great Saturday afternoon!)
when the weather begins to cool, and the air gets a little crisp, the wave of "homesickness" always surprises me. I suddenly long for fall afternoon football games followed by friendly skirmishes in the backyard, or picking pecans with our old neighbors, or spending allday with a Boston butt on the grill, or my "famous" buffalo wing dip in the crockpot and a house full of friends.
Fall makes me miss our old friends.
Buffalo Wing Dip:
in a crockpot, combine:
2 large cans of chicken, drained
2 packages cream cheese
1/2 bottle ranch dressing
1/2 bottle (or more) Franks Hot Sauce
Let it simmer a few hours before game time. Serve with tortilla chips. That recipe will get you invited back year after year. In the word of one of my old redneck friends, "HooWee! 'Ats some good stuff right there, buddy!"
That recipe can even make you tolerable to folks when they don't like your team choice,
though I don't recommend being the ONLY Auburn fan at an Alabama vs. Auburn game, even with that dip. You might want to bring along some brownies AND that dip to that kind of party. Especially if Auburn is winning.
I digress.
Seeing as how it isn't Saturday, we don't have TV service here (nope, not even antenna service), and we can't eat wing dip on account of dairy anymore, I had to find something else to do with our perfect fall weather.
Our day started early. By 8:00 am, I was already done with our usual morning routine. Kids were pinging off the walls. Well, Beans was pinging. Little Nugget was rubbing her eyes and regretting her decision to get everyone out of bed at 5:00 am. She was soon content to "nursey and night-night". Beans and I wasted no time donning long sleeves and light jackets, and getting outdoors. By 10:00, we had all the farm chores (plus a few extra projects) done. By 11:00, we had worked together to stack a 4 ft high wall of wood between several trees on the property. This is next year's burning wood, wood from trees we cut down from clearing more of the property for next year's farming. It was pleasing to see it not going to waste.
With little of the morning shade left, Beans and I sat on the bench in the garden, Beans eating snap peas from the vines, me listening to the sound of chickens clucking.
I never tire of that noise. I grin every time I hear the content noises of our flock talking amongst themselves.
A small cry interrupted our repose. Nugget was inside shouting, "Wake! Wake! Hiya!"
Beans grabs my hand and practices hopping like a frog all the way to the house.
"Mama, can I have eggs an' bacon for lunch? With avocado and chips? And a grapefruit?"
"Sure thing, little one." my little farm girl always manages to capture my heart when she's doing litle independent things like hoppin all the way to the house.
A few minutes later, bacon is sizzling and my farm girl is helping me crack eggs into a bowl. She identifies which eggs are from which chickens. I love that. She pushes her head against the screen door and yells outside, "Thanks Big Momma! Thanks Little Red! Thank you for my yummy lunch!"
I'm not sure it gets much better than this.
Until Next Time,
Happy Moose Trails
If the house is quiet enough (ours usually is), there is the steady hum of water boiling, a gentle rattle of the canning pot lid as the water heats to a rolling boil. A steady drone of play from the girls comes from the "toy room", interrupted only by minor skirmishes or even more dreadful prolonged silences.
For the record, today's prolonged silence was courtesy of Nugget, who found a lone apricot slice on the floor and decided the toy room walls needed sprucing up. Beans was also quiet, as she was licking apricot off the walls.
With the last batch of fruit in the canner, I tucked babies in for naps. As I turned the stove off, the rattle faded away, the last of the steam hissed to a stop. As I sat with a cup of coffee on the couch, surveying the overall state of chaos (canning supplies fill the sink, toys scattered on the floor, apricot clinging to the wall), I am at once exhausted, knowing the cleaning up waits for me, and comforted by the intermittent "PLINK! PLINK!" of each jar of apricots, peaches, and cranberries sealing themselves. Nothing lives in a vacuum... Except for some sweet treats for this winter lining my kitchen counter.
Today has a definite sense of "football season". When we lived in Alabama, we were serious spectators of SEC college football. (I could care less about professional football... But college boys on a football field running into eachother? THAT makes for a great Saturday afternoon!)
when the weather begins to cool, and the air gets a little crisp, the wave of "homesickness" always surprises me. I suddenly long for fall afternoon football games followed by friendly skirmishes in the backyard, or picking pecans with our old neighbors, or spending allday with a Boston butt on the grill, or my "famous" buffalo wing dip in the crockpot and a house full of friends.
Fall makes me miss our old friends.
Buffalo Wing Dip:
in a crockpot, combine:
2 large cans of chicken, drained
2 packages cream cheese
1/2 bottle ranch dressing
1/2 bottle (or more) Franks Hot Sauce
Let it simmer a few hours before game time. Serve with tortilla chips. That recipe will get you invited back year after year. In the word of one of my old redneck friends, "HooWee! 'Ats some good stuff right there, buddy!"
That recipe can even make you tolerable to folks when they don't like your team choice,
though I don't recommend being the ONLY Auburn fan at an Alabama vs. Auburn game, even with that dip. You might want to bring along some brownies AND that dip to that kind of party. Especially if Auburn is winning.
I digress.
Seeing as how it isn't Saturday, we don't have TV service here (nope, not even antenna service), and we can't eat wing dip on account of dairy anymore, I had to find something else to do with our perfect fall weather.
Our day started early. By 8:00 am, I was already done with our usual morning routine. Kids were pinging off the walls. Well, Beans was pinging. Little Nugget was rubbing her eyes and regretting her decision to get everyone out of bed at 5:00 am. She was soon content to "nursey and night-night". Beans and I wasted no time donning long sleeves and light jackets, and getting outdoors. By 10:00, we had all the farm chores (plus a few extra projects) done. By 11:00, we had worked together to stack a 4 ft high wall of wood between several trees on the property. This is next year's burning wood, wood from trees we cut down from clearing more of the property for next year's farming. It was pleasing to see it not going to waste.
With little of the morning shade left, Beans and I sat on the bench in the garden, Beans eating snap peas from the vines, me listening to the sound of chickens clucking.
I never tire of that noise. I grin every time I hear the content noises of our flock talking amongst themselves.
A small cry interrupted our repose. Nugget was inside shouting, "Wake! Wake! Hiya!"
Beans grabs my hand and practices hopping like a frog all the way to the house.
"Mama, can I have eggs an' bacon for lunch? With avocado and chips? And a grapefruit?"
"Sure thing, little one." my little farm girl always manages to capture my heart when she's doing litle independent things like hoppin all the way to the house.
A few minutes later, bacon is sizzling and my farm girl is helping me crack eggs into a bowl. She identifies which eggs are from which chickens. I love that. She pushes her head against the screen door and yells outside, "Thanks Big Momma! Thanks Little Red! Thank you for my yummy lunch!"
I'm not sure it gets much better than this.
Until Next Time,
Happy Moose Trails
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Gluten Free Dairy Free Blueberry Muffins
I'll post farm news later, but thought I would put this up before I forget.
You can successfully make any substitutions you need to, just add you liquids last so you get good consistency.
Total of 2 cups gluten free flour.
I used:
3/4 C quinoa flour
3/4 C brown rice flour
1/4 C corn meal
1/4 C tapioca flour (if you sub this, make it something that helps bond ingredients, like arrowroot flour or potato flour)
2/3 C sugar
1 TBL baking powder (not a typo!)
1 tsp baking soda
3/4 tsp xanthan gum (do not substitute! This Does the job of gluten without the severe stomach pain for those who can't have it!)
1/4 tsp salt
nutmeg and cinnamon to taste
3/4 C almond milk (don't panic! You can sub in any safe "milk". The almond milk was my own sub for regular milk!)
1/2 C canola oil (or other, if you are fresh out of canola)
2 eggs (don't panic! Any egg replacer will work. Also, you can soak flax seed in water overnight, then use about 1/4-1/2 cup of that gooey mix to replace the egg. You'll also have the benefit
of adding serious nutrition to your muffins)
1 tsp vanilla extract
Blueberries. Fresh, frozen, canned (drain if you go
this route), wild, domesticated, whatever. As many as you like in your muffins.
***
preheat oven to 375•
Important: DO use separate bowls to mix wet and dry. I know, I hate the extra dish to wash too, but with gluten free flours that don't absorb as well as wheat, you'll need to mix at the last moment or it will be clumpy lumpy. Who wants that?
Mix dry ingredients in a large bowl. Mix wet ingredients separately, then add the wet to the dry. It's going to be thick! If it seems too thick, add more milk substitute. I added liquid until
it was a bit thicker than cake batter, but not as thick
as cookie dough. (hope that's not too confusing!)
Add berries, stir to coat evenly. Spoon into muffin tray. I DO use liners! (Because who wants to wash out a muffin tin? Not me!)
Bake 18-25 minutes, or until toothpick inserted comes
out clean.
Brew a pot of percolated coffee. Have a muffin and contemplate your day. Try not to eat the whole pan in one sitting. You should save some for lunch.
These muffins are best enjoyed with a toddler who says, "Momma, deez muppins are da awesome-est ever!"
awww... I think I wanna make more muffins now!
Until Next Time,
Happy Moose Trails!
You can successfully make any substitutions you need to, just add you liquids last so you get good consistency.
Total of 2 cups gluten free flour.
I used:
3/4 C quinoa flour
3/4 C brown rice flour
1/4 C corn meal
1/4 C tapioca flour (if you sub this, make it something that helps bond ingredients, like arrowroot flour or potato flour)
2/3 C sugar
1 TBL baking powder (not a typo!)
1 tsp baking soda
3/4 tsp xanthan gum (do not substitute! This Does the job of gluten without the severe stomach pain for those who can't have it!)
1/4 tsp salt
nutmeg and cinnamon to taste
3/4 C almond milk (don't panic! You can sub in any safe "milk". The almond milk was my own sub for regular milk!)
1/2 C canola oil (or other, if you are fresh out of canola)
2 eggs (don't panic! Any egg replacer will work. Also, you can soak flax seed in water overnight, then use about 1/4-1/2 cup of that gooey mix to replace the egg. You'll also have the benefit
of adding serious nutrition to your muffins)
1 tsp vanilla extract
Blueberries. Fresh, frozen, canned (drain if you go
this route), wild, domesticated, whatever. As many as you like in your muffins.
***
preheat oven to 375•
Important: DO use separate bowls to mix wet and dry. I know, I hate the extra dish to wash too, but with gluten free flours that don't absorb as well as wheat, you'll need to mix at the last moment or it will be clumpy lumpy. Who wants that?
Mix dry ingredients in a large bowl. Mix wet ingredients separately, then add the wet to the dry. It's going to be thick! If it seems too thick, add more milk substitute. I added liquid until
it was a bit thicker than cake batter, but not as thick
as cookie dough. (hope that's not too confusing!)
Add berries, stir to coat evenly. Spoon into muffin tray. I DO use liners! (Because who wants to wash out a muffin tin? Not me!)
Bake 18-25 minutes, or until toothpick inserted comes
out clean.
Brew a pot of percolated coffee. Have a muffin and contemplate your day. Try not to eat the whole pan in one sitting. You should save some for lunch.
These muffins are best enjoyed with a toddler who says, "Momma, deez muppins are da awesome-est ever!"
awww... I think I wanna make more muffins now!
Until Next Time,
Happy Moose Trails!
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
And Now, Back to Our Regularly Scheduled Program
Ahhh...
So it took me a few hours, but I got over yesterday's post.
Many thanks to the Lind and supportive commentary from those of y'all that offered it.
And many thanks to my oldest son. I called him this morning to give him a heads-up. He reads his mom's blog with about the same consistency that most teenagers complete their homework, but I didn't want him blindsighted, either.
For the record, he is MAD. He found it unbelievable that someone would dare make assumptions about his family or his feelings.
In his words, "Yeah, I'm totally cool with what you wrote though, mom." Then he gave me a stern lecture about really needing to know how the Internet works, and how some people ON PURPOSE find blogs to disagree with and start cyber-fights.
"Seriously?" I asked him.
"Um, yeah, mom. Some people just don't have anything better to do with their time."
I suddenly felt a little better about having kids that "waste time" playing video games. At least they aren't picking cyber fights.
So ANYHOO....
Back to farming.
I meant what I said last night.
Farming doesn't hurt as bad.
I was feeling a bit deflated last night as I tucked the girls in and sent the chickens to the coop. And lonely. J is off hunting again. (No luck on last week's moose hunt, and this week was the subsistence caribou opener.) I generally don't mind the hunting trips (can't complain about free, organic, free range food, really). But feeling small and lonely stinks.
I'll admit, I stuck around in the chicken coop looking for a little company. At least until the fumes got to me.
I watched an Alaskan late summer version of a sunset. By sunset, I mean I watched the sky look a little like rain was coming. I scanned the garden for signs of life or food. I looked at the temperate gauge and realized that the chill in the air wasn't just hurt feelings- fall is in the air.
I took a deep breath of crisp, cool air. I saw the sun poking through the tree line in that way that confuses you for a moment as to wether it's sunrise or sunset. I zipped my jacket and headed back to the house, kicking loose rocks down the driveway as I went.
The warmth of the house hit me as I walked in. I'd been canning all day and the house still had a good steam built up. 7 pints of blueberry syrup, one pint canned blueberries, 2 pints of raspberry-rhubarb jam, and a half-pint of fresh blueberries sparkled like jewels on the kitchen table. I set the fresh berries in the fridge, contemplated a cup of coffee and some knitting, then accepted defeat and headed to be instead.
***
Morning found me in better spirits. Apologies at once to those of you suffering from heat waves in the lower 48, but I woke in a chilly house at 6 am to girls bouncing on the bed demanding breakfast. A quick check of the thermometer outside confirmed it. It was only 48 degrees outside.
I grinned in spite of myself. I always get a kick out of Autumn. Anything that even remotely feels like Autumn gets me feeling pretty zippy. I handed the kids bananas and prayed they wouldn't kill eachother as I threw on some day-old jeans (the best kind!) and a sweatshirt before ducking out into the morning air.
Oh! Fall! It felt like it. It smelled like it. The air even tasted like it. I grinned at the sun peeking through the tree line in that way that confuses you as to whether it's sunrise or sunset. I dialed my son's number as I fed and watered birds.
I made gluten-free, dairy-free blueberry muffins that didn't suck. (anyone interested in the recipe, post in the comments. It's easy and hot skippy! They were good!)
The aroma of hot coffee and blueberry muffins mingled in the air. I surveyed the day's work and after downing a few muffins, got to business.
A mid-morning break and I called my mom to chat. We aren't "every dayers" or even "once a weekers", but it sure was nice to hear a voice from home.
I wondered how hunting was going.
I read stories to the girls.
At nap time, I lingered in the chicken coop, trying to see if any of our new hens are acting like they might want to lay. This is the time of chicken season where you want to start seeing results. It coincides with the time they start eating about 40 lbs of organic feed a week.
The chickens are now 17 weeks old. We should be getting eggs any day now.
The rest of the day passes uneventfully.
I am relieved.
The girls get tucked into bed.
I wander outside to the homemade bench we have by the chicken coop to watch what J calls, "The Chick Channel" (haha).
I watch birds establishing peck order. I watch then do the same things they do every night- peck ground and preen feathers. I watch another late summer Alaskan sunset, and linger for a few minutes even as it starts to rain.
Tonight, I no longer accept defeat.
I brew a cup of coffee.
I listen to rain hit the metal roof.
I knit.
Until Next Time,
Happy Moose Trails
So it took me a few hours, but I got over yesterday's post.
Many thanks to the Lind and supportive commentary from those of y'all that offered it.
And many thanks to my oldest son. I called him this morning to give him a heads-up. He reads his mom's blog with about the same consistency that most teenagers complete their homework, but I didn't want him blindsighted, either.
For the record, he is MAD. He found it unbelievable that someone would dare make assumptions about his family or his feelings.
In his words, "Yeah, I'm totally cool with what you wrote though, mom." Then he gave me a stern lecture about really needing to know how the Internet works, and how some people ON PURPOSE find blogs to disagree with and start cyber-fights.
"Seriously?" I asked him.
"Um, yeah, mom. Some people just don't have anything better to do with their time."
I suddenly felt a little better about having kids that "waste time" playing video games. At least they aren't picking cyber fights.
So ANYHOO....
Back to farming.
I meant what I said last night.
Farming doesn't hurt as bad.
I was feeling a bit deflated last night as I tucked the girls in and sent the chickens to the coop. And lonely. J is off hunting again. (No luck on last week's moose hunt, and this week was the subsistence caribou opener.) I generally don't mind the hunting trips (can't complain about free, organic, free range food, really). But feeling small and lonely stinks.
I'll admit, I stuck around in the chicken coop looking for a little company. At least until the fumes got to me.
I watched an Alaskan late summer version of a sunset. By sunset, I mean I watched the sky look a little like rain was coming. I scanned the garden for signs of life or food. I looked at the temperate gauge and realized that the chill in the air wasn't just hurt feelings- fall is in the air.
I took a deep breath of crisp, cool air. I saw the sun poking through the tree line in that way that confuses you for a moment as to wether it's sunrise or sunset. I zipped my jacket and headed back to the house, kicking loose rocks down the driveway as I went.
The warmth of the house hit me as I walked in. I'd been canning all day and the house still had a good steam built up. 7 pints of blueberry syrup, one pint canned blueberries, 2 pints of raspberry-rhubarb jam, and a half-pint of fresh blueberries sparkled like jewels on the kitchen table. I set the fresh berries in the fridge, contemplated a cup of coffee and some knitting, then accepted defeat and headed to be instead.
***
Morning found me in better spirits. Apologies at once to those of you suffering from heat waves in the lower 48, but I woke in a chilly house at 6 am to girls bouncing on the bed demanding breakfast. A quick check of the thermometer outside confirmed it. It was only 48 degrees outside.
I grinned in spite of myself. I always get a kick out of Autumn. Anything that even remotely feels like Autumn gets me feeling pretty zippy. I handed the kids bananas and prayed they wouldn't kill eachother as I threw on some day-old jeans (the best kind!) and a sweatshirt before ducking out into the morning air.
Oh! Fall! It felt like it. It smelled like it. The air even tasted like it. I grinned at the sun peeking through the tree line in that way that confuses you as to whether it's sunrise or sunset. I dialed my son's number as I fed and watered birds.
I made gluten-free, dairy-free blueberry muffins that didn't suck. (anyone interested in the recipe, post in the comments. It's easy and hot skippy! They were good!)
The aroma of hot coffee and blueberry muffins mingled in the air. I surveyed the day's work and after downing a few muffins, got to business.
A mid-morning break and I called my mom to chat. We aren't "every dayers" or even "once a weekers", but it sure was nice to hear a voice from home.
I wondered how hunting was going.
I read stories to the girls.
At nap time, I lingered in the chicken coop, trying to see if any of our new hens are acting like they might want to lay. This is the time of chicken season where you want to start seeing results. It coincides with the time they start eating about 40 lbs of organic feed a week.
The chickens are now 17 weeks old. We should be getting eggs any day now.
The rest of the day passes uneventfully.
I am relieved.
The girls get tucked into bed.
I wander outside to the homemade bench we have by the chicken coop to watch what J calls, "The Chick Channel" (haha).
I watch birds establishing peck order. I watch then do the same things they do every night- peck ground and preen feathers. I watch another late summer Alaskan sunset, and linger for a few minutes even as it starts to rain.
Tonight, I no longer accept defeat.
I brew a cup of coffee.
I listen to rain hit the metal roof.
I knit.
Until Next Time,
Happy Moose Trails
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