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Not the kind from “Dune.” The smaller Jalapenos and Serranos were sliced and spread on a huge baking sheet covered with Parchment paper and put in a 200 f oven for 2 hours. At the end of the two hours, they weren’t quite dry enough, but I needed the oven for a casserole, so I took the pan out on a cooling rack and cooked the casserole. After turning the oven off, I put the pan back in over night.

That dried them to only about 2/3 of a pint jar of nicely dried hot peppers that can be used to spice soups, chili, or ground if a bit of spice is needed on another dish. I will divide the spoils with Son 1’s household for their cooking. The first two hours in the low oven filled the house with the hot spicy scent of capsaicin. One slice ended up on the counter as I was filling jars and I popped it in my mouth. MISTAKE! There is no milk in the house. A swig of plant based creamer and a slice of bread helped calm the fire.

The remaining green hot peppers that had any size on them were pickled, another half gallon jar. One entire shelf of the refrigerator is full of quart and half gallon jars of cucumber pickles, dilly beans, and pickled hot peppers to enjoy through the cold dark months ahead.

The red Thai peppers were strung, another couple strings with the ones hanging in the utility room beginning to turn, so more will be strung. There are 8 plus one of Serranos hanging to dry in the kitchen/dining area.

I tried last night to get a photograph of the gorgeous moon as it rose above the ridges and trees. I lack the photography skills or camera to get a good shot.

It was so large and beautiful.

I retook the photo for my November fiber challenge start on the fall tablecloth with the pumpkins and gourds. The only color we really had this year, the leaf colors never materialized and were short lived.

This morning I pulled off the first length of the “Apple Picking” braid and divided it lengthwise and started the two spindles that will spin it. The other two live in my bag and travel everywhere with me to be taken out when sitting in the car or as a passenger. The different textures of the two fiber give me variety.

A few more rows were finished on the sweater. The decreases every other row shaping the shoulders make it go faster the farther up I go. A few more rows and I have to begin the neck placket which will slow things up again as I will no longer be knitting in the round, but back and forth and each row makes the pile in my lap heavier and more awkward to turn.

It is a cool, rainy day, so more knitting will get done, there is no more produce to be prepped. After not being able to get jars or lids during canning season, the shelves at the grocer are restocked. I may buy a flat or two of jars to set aside for next year. I purchased the reuseable canning lids, so I should be okay there as there are enough on hand for the jars currently on hand. Now I need to figure out how to get the pickles, salsa, peppers, and dried herbs to Son 1’s family without a whole day in the car.

Have a great rest of your weekend and don’t forget to vote if you haven’t already.

The big pup has been reluctant of late to do the stairs. He is almost 9 years old and over 200 pounds with weak or painful back hips or knees. Once in a while, his urge to be with us overcomes his reluctance and he comes up after I’m in bed, sits with hubby, then comes to our room to the doggie bed pads. Yesterday he was very hesitant to come down in the morning, whining and putting his front feet on the top step, then backing up and whining more. When he did finally work up the courage to come down the steps, he stumbled some but caught himself. I figured he wouldn’t come up last night, but he did and this morning, as I was getting ready for the Saturday morning Farmer’s Market run, dressed, called the pups and headed down the steps. The German Shepherd came right down, was leashed and taken out as the hunters had arrived only minutes before and I didn’t want her chasing down the field or exploring around their car. The big guy stood at the top of the stairs and whined. I cooked their egg, filled their bowls with kibble and his meds, topped with half a scrambled egg each and tried to urge him down with that. No go! I put the leash on him hoping he would come down with me, but he tugged back instead. I feared we had a major problem on our hands, two senior citizens with a 200 plus pound dog upstairs that needed to come down stairs. Hubby dressed and got in the act without much luck. We were about to just leave him upstairs and go on to the market, hoping he would come down on his own while we were gone, when he finally came down. He was taken out on his leash and both pups fed.

It was right at freezing when we left for town, the car windows had to be scraped. Because we were still in the first hour, the market wasn’t crowded in the frigid morning air, the guest CSA bag of veggies picked up (I really need to take a large bag with handles as it is in a large plastic bag with no handles and is heavy), turnips and red onions from another vendor, some beef, some pork, and lots of Chevre as this is the last week for it from them and from the local dairy that serves the Natural Foods Store. From market to breakfast to the Natural Foods store for more Chevre (it freezes great), hard extra sharp cheese, sweet potatoes, and a few other supplies, then on to the grocer. I don’t like going in the grocer with the number of Covid cases in the area, but I also don’t like the curbside store shopper picking certain items, so a quick run through there supplied us with some non perishables and a small turkey. Even though it will just be the two of us, I am going to make a real Thanksgiving meal for us and as cases are rising, I may not want to go in the grocer in a few weeks, so I got what I needed now and stashed everything aside once home.

The garden took a hit as expected last night. The peas were uncovered this morning after we returned from shopping and they did fine. The ground cherries are done in, the marigolds are burned. The peas will be covered every night now and uncovered during the day as we harvest fresh peas for a while. I am hoping to have fresh peas for Thanksgiving dinner.

The mountains look stark, the wind ripped the last of the leaves from the trees, so the drive from town has no color, just the bare skeletons of winter already. The hunters were gone when we got back. They apparently took a shot at a huge buck but missed. They left to get food and mourn their missed shot.

For now, I need to go process the basket of hot green peppers bought in yesterday. Some are going to be pickled. some dried as thin slices.

Last night I finished the sleeves on grand daughter’s sweater and knit them on to the body. I see an end in sight.

Today marks the last warm dry day in the near future. The weekend is slated to be much cooler and damp.

We continue to take nearly daily walks, though back on smoother, more level surfaces after I overtaxed my hubby earlier in the week.

Most walks are through crunchy fallen leaves and “rain” showers of falling leaves.

Beautiful sunsets.

The trees never turned other than golds and many are bare already.

Healthy peas.

Garden critters.

Peppers and more peppers. After giving one string of drying peppers to daughter, there are still 4 1/2 drying in the window and more ripening in the garden. Another quart of Jalapenos pickled.

Twenty three days of spinning,

and sleeves two at a time to add to the lower body of the sweater. But knitting is causing significant pain after just a few rows.

Cases of the virus are rising in the county but mask wearing is not. “Chose science over fiction.” Joe Biden

My crafting goes back many years and has changed it’s theme several times. As a teen, I was fascinated by an adult friend on vacation, crocheting with a fine metal needle and thin cotton thread. She was crocheting lace and was a very willing teacher though I was a left handed learner. By sitting across from her, she patiently taught me a few basic stitches and how to read the pattern. Once home, a needle and the thread were purchased and I made enough lace strips to edge a couple of pillow cases that are long gone. They were presented to my Mom for Christmas that year. The skill moved me on to making larger crochet items with yarn, afghans, a couple of vest sweaters. That stayed with me as my craft of choice for years. I added counted cross stitch as a young adult and made pictures, Christmas ornaments, and at some point later used it to do cross stitch on waste canvas on commercial knitted sweaters. Between my first and second child, I took a calligraphy evening class at the local craft store and enjoyed doing that until people realized my skill and began asking if I would do this poem or my wedding invitations, etc. It then became stressful to be perfect and not just have fun and basically quit. At a craft show, I saw smocking for the first time, and I was pregnant with child two. I decided that if the baby was a girl, I would learn to smock. When she was born, I did take smocking and French hand sewing classes at the local yarn and fiber store and made her Baptism dress, slip, and bonnet, then on to make maybe another half dozen dresses and some bonnets (she turned into quite the tomboy, now a Mom with Second Degree Decided Black belt in Taekwondo and a third level instructor), she wore those dresses and wanted them for her daughter. With that skill, I made my Mom, Mother in law, and Sister in law smocked night gowns for Christmas. That craft also faded. Somewhere in there I did some hand monograming and learned crewel and each of my three children have a personalized crewel work Christmas stocking.

After the three children were born, I developed an interest in making baskets, made my first one, an egg basket from a kit without instruction other than the written ones that came with it, then took a class with my best friend and learned to make a simple square basket with a handle and my friend and I started making baskets to sell at craft shows. That was my first experience with people looking, handling, and making rude comments about how could we charge so much when they could buy a basket at — store for a fraction of that price. After a couple of shows, I quit that scene and just used baskets as gifts and for my own use.

Skip forward to near my second retirement and the move to the mountains. First, I was here for a couple of years without hubby as he wound down his practice and retired and though I had Son 1 and family nearby, I was in an apartment alone for a year. I stumbled on the local yarn shop, I had picked up knitting again when grandson 1 was due and made t-shirts, soakers, sweaters, and diaper covers for him. I met many new friends there, enjoyed going in after work or on weekends to knit with them and buy yarn. A weekend event sponsored by them had a workshop on drop spindles and that got me hooked on spinning. At the yarn shop, I met a gal near my age that made her own soap and I mentioned that I would love to learn to do that. One day, she scheduled for me to come to her house for a cup of tea and soap making lessons. She was an excellent teacher, drilling in the basics, but having me actually do the process while she watched and guided. We made two large batches of soap that day and I came home with a pot, an immersion blender, instructions, and a silicone pan of curing soap. We have been friends now for years, sharing molds, instructions, plants, herbs, and enjoyment of each other’s company. Those lessons sent me into a soap making frenzy, trying different blends, different scents, different additions, until I had more soap than my family would use in a lifetime, and Cabin Crafted Shop was born.

As another friend says, “Land the plane,” so I’ll land it now. My craft show adventures in past years had me set up next to a lovely gal and her husband, she is a potter. I love pottery, but that is not a craft I tried. Each year we were set up beside or across from each other and became friends. She likes my yarn and my soap. I helped get her started spinning with a drop spindle and she now has a wheel she is learning on. I have bought pottery from her, she has bought soap and yarn from me. She is Dashing Dog Pottery and will be vending at the holiday markets this year, I will not, but she asked if I was still making soap. I have a supply of some varieties, but hadn’t made any in almost a year because of not expecting to vend during the pandemic. Yesterday, I made two batches of scents she requested, that I either didn’t have in stock or had less than she wanted. It felt good, and two very successful batches were made.

The two pots, spatulas, and business end of the immersion blender sat out overnight on the counter so the caustic paste in them would saponify to soap that can easily and safely be cleaned up this morning. It is all clean and packed away for another day, another session.

My friend gets her soap, I will shop her pottery at the Holiday Market (Blacksburg Farmer’s Market) Saturdays in November and early December.

Last night, according to the indoor/outdoor thermometer didn’t reach low enough for frost. I was lazy and slept in until it was fully light out, so I can’t attest to whether there was or wasn’t any frost on the grass, but the windshields were clear. The covers were all removed from the garden and the fig. The inside of the fig shelter was like the inside of a tropical greenhouse and it looks great. I might get those figs yet.

Because I lacked enough clear plastic, the larger Jalapenos were covered with garbage bags, black ones. I probably should have removed them yesterday and put them back on last night because the very top leaves are “sunburned.” Though it never got above the mid 50’s yesterday, the sun was out. Those peppers will keep maturing for the next couple of weeks and more harvested.

The peas and other peppers had a single 10 foot wide sheet of heavy mil translucent plastic over them and they look great. The ground cherries are a semi tropical plant, they were covered with a single sheet of thinner of clearer plastic and they don’t look so good. All of the tops are badly burned, the lower leaves look ok. They will be watched for a day or two, but maybe just cut my losses, harvest the immature fruit and plant them earlier next year, the extended season I was hoping for didn’t happen this year, instead we got an early frost.

With nearly two weeks of mild weather and relatively warm nights, there is hope for the peas and more peppers.

The sweater gift is coming along. Only about 2 more inches until I need to make sleeves and move on up to the upper body. If I spent more time knitting and less spinning, I could get it wrapped up in a week.

But alas, I like spinning more than knitting, so this …

The full 4 ounce braid of the Shenandoah colorway of Falklands that I ordered from the virtual fiber festival was spun in just over 2 weeks with two 5+ gram samples, some Moorit Shetland, and some Jacob thrown in for good measure. That bowlful are all my favorite tools, photographed for my third challenge update of the month with 17 days worth of spinning. The Shenandoah will sit until after the final challenge post and I decide if I want to ply it as the gradient or use half of the singles in order and mix up the other half.

After a beautiful day yesterday, my timing to go lock up the hens for the night was perfect, just as the huge red sun was slowly dropping behind the hill to the west, dotted with the neighbor’s cows. You can barely see a couple just to the left and below the setting sun.

Two more weekends and I will have to adjust my bio clock again, that gets more difficult every year, and adjust to the new norm for locking up hens, preparing dinner, and other routine events. I still think Daylight Saving time is worthless.

As we were finishing lunch and tonight’s chili was being prepped, I spotted the hens charging across the yard from their free ranging. Once the chili was in the slow cooker, I went out to see what was going on. A Red Tailed Hawk, smaller than any of the hens was sitting in the Forsythia, 9 hens huddled under the thick foliage. The hawk flew off, the hens were too frightened to follow me back to the secure run and coop. It took lures, long poles to poke around under the shrubs, the hose on full jet being sprayed under to get them out. They were finally herded into security. Have you ever herded chickens, like herding cats, but they are secure again.

While doing that, I realized that the temperature is dropping rapidly and it is raining lightly so I hauled the plastic sheeting, the mylar sheet, and stakes out to the garden. The wind made putting plastic over the surviving plants like wrestling an octopus, very challenging. The fig was closed in, the peppers, except for the two branches I broke off one of the Serranos, the peas, and the ground cherries were all covered.

Again, planning ahead for next year would allow me to make a tunnel over a long 3 or 4 foot wide bed with the wide sheet of plastic. I think I will note this in my gardening journal and put the plants that might still be producing in October in one bed.

That basket filled and the green ones were pickled in a half gallon jar for hubby to enjoy over the winter. There are 3 half gallon jars and 1 quart jar of them in the refrigerator and that won’t get him through the winter until next season.

The sunflower heads that were dried in the garage, need to be contained. I have found two of them on the floor mostly eaten, so there must be a very fat mouse in the garage or able to get in the garage.

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The past 7 months have significantly altered our routines. It is so difficult to adjust. We used to go out for lunch several times a week and out to dinner about twice a month. We would grocery shop once a week, go to the Farmer’s Market on Saturday. I would go to my spinning group on Thursday afternoon, thought nothing of going to the yarn shop, went to a couple of fiber retreats each year and at least one fiber festival. My shop wasn’t just online, there were half a dozen in person craft or holiday markets where I would set up and sell my wares. I would participate in many living history events, dressing in period costume and demonstrating fiber preparation and spinning while talking about how different fiber and fabric preparation were and how they were utilized. We would visit our kids or our kids would visit us, I would babysit grands sometimes for a week at a time.

Now, there are no retreats, no festivals, no craft markets. We haven’t been in a restaurant in 7 months. Lunches “out” are drive thru, eaten in the car. Any shopping is done on line and delivered or picked up curbside. To go to the Farmer’s Market, which is outdoors, I have to pre order so that I can be in the first hour, dash through picking up pre selected, pre paid items while masked. I have not participated in a living history event since last Christmas. We haven’t seen Son 1 and his family since Christmas, Son 2 in a parking lot in May to meet our already by then 5 month old grandson as they headed to a family wedding. We see our daughter and her kids distantly in their yard or ours for brief visits all masked. We will not be able to host the annual family Thanksgiving or Christmas dinner.

I know we are not alone, but we are trying to do our part to help end this disaster our world is facing, our country is not taking seriously. I see pictures and posts of folks I know traveling, on vacation, possibly safely, but are they bringing back more virus.

Usually this time of year, we go to the pharmacy and get our flu shots. This year, we have made an appointment with our family physician where we will wait in the car until time to go in masked, get our shot and leave quickly, and hopefully safely.

It hurts me that so many are brushing this deadly virus off as “just the flu,” “why are you wearing a mask outdoors,” “I don’t need a mask, I’m not sick,” “I don’t need to wear my mask over my nose, I don’t breathe through my nose.”

For only the second time since I was old enough to vote, and then it was 21 years old, I didn’t go to the polls on election day. The first time I was in college and then you voted by absentee ballot that had to be witnessed and not just by a family member or friend. This time we did early in person voting because we didn’t want our ballot to be delayed in the mail, marked unable to scan for some arbitrary reason or to be counted late.

I don’t like these times. I fear for our country’s health and it’s democracy.

Not antiques, but old none the less. We have two, by today’s standards, ancient cars. Mine is 16, hubby’s is 13 and both have well over 200,000 miles on them. His has been showing signs of it’s demise. It is losing oil, the check engine light stays on because of a bad catalytic converter, the car has several, the low tire pressure light stays on because all of the sensors were removed with a tire replacement several years ago. We keep the oil changed, get yearly inspections, make sure the brakes and tires are good.

Yesterday we drove two towns over, only about 20 miles to get drive thru Chick-fil-A for lunch. During the pandemic with the dining room closed, they have quite a system set up at busy times, with two drive thru lanes merging into one then separating again into two pick up lines. A path to get around to the queue to get into a drive thru line, sections set aside for app ordered pre orders and another for third party pick ups. After we got our food, we drove over to the shopping center parking lot to eat, put down our windows for air and had lunch. After we were finished, the car would not start. Daughter lives within shouting distance, but she is working from home with two kids getting virtual education, so we didn’t want to call her unless necessary. We have AAA and called them. We were told it would be about 64 minutes, that we would get three text messages, the first letting us know that the service order had been entered, the second that it had been assigned, and the third that the service was in route. Soon after the first text, a couple near our age in a pickup offered to jump us, but we declined. About 45 minutes into the wait, another car offered help and at this point, we figured we had waited that long, we would just wait. The hour came and went, no second text. A third person offered a jump and we took her up on it, got the car started, thanked her, called AAA back to let them know that we got tired of waiting and got help. The car though running, in neutral was racing then almost stalling. When driving it would surge and resume normal speed. Instead of going straight to get a new battery, we elected to get home, pick up my car and take the ailing one directly to our local repair place. If the dead battery just messed with the computer and it can be reset, if a battery is all it needs, we will have it fixed. If there are bigger issues, it is difficult to justify the money to repair a 13 year old car with 243,000 miles on it. We have been anticipating this, dreading the thought that at our ages and during a pandemic, we might have to purchase a new car and have car payments. For now, we will continue to drive the older one and hope it gets us through to spring.

Maybe, just maybe, this will be a less expensive repair and we can continue to get a bit more use out of it. As Son 1 says, “they are both in the bonus round.”

On a brighter note, since I don’t have an electric dehydrator to dry herbs and peppers, this is my solar dehydrator.

It works quite well for herbs and peppers, but I can’t do tomatoes. Maybe next year I will try the oven method with some of the Amish paste tomatoes, or if I can get a few pounds at the Farmers’ Market this weekend, maybe I will try it this year.

I think the salad mix needs thinning. Tonight, we will enjoy truly fresh salad and a few of the healthier plants will go in a window garden to harvest from until they get tall and bitter.

I moved into our home 14 years ago last month, while hubby was still working toward his retirement across the state. I had been here for 15 months in various rentals during the construction. Some of the later temporary housing was sharing space with Son 1 and his family, who moved in here with me as they finished the inside of the house. One of the shared spaces was a sublet from friends of theirs who had purchased a home with about a month left on their lease. When they left, they abandoned a very large Jade plant that ended up here. Each winter it came in to sit out the cold indoors and each summer it lived on the west end of the north facing front porch. The pot it was in was 18-20″ in diameter and the plant so large it didn’t fit through the front door without breaking off a few smaller branches and so heavy it had to be on a roller for me to move it in and out. With daughter and her family living with us for a couple of years, toddler and young elementary school age, their dog and our two, there just wasn’t enough room for the additional activity, so I advertised the plant on Craigslist and a young man wanted it. In the process of moving it out for him to pick up, a thumb sized branch broke off and I told him I was keeping the branch. It was potted up and survived. Though it is no where near as large as the parent plant, here it is today, again getting too big for the convenient sunny winter spots in the house, especially since the doors in these photos are where the big pup, our aging Mastiff spends most of his days in “his sunny spot.”

Sundays are stay safe at home days, days to enjoy the outdoors while hubby watches football, days to get some outdoor tasks done, then prepare homemade Mexican dinner. Yet, Sundays are difficult for me as they have been at other times in the past. Sundays are family day, but for 4 years in college, it was a day to be homesick, no classes or other activities to distract me. As a young single woman, weekends were often backpacking trips with friends, and Sunday was the day we walked out and drove home to face another work week. As an older adult, a few weekends a year were spent with friends at fiber retreats, and Sunday was the day we packed up, hugged goodbye for months and drove home. I miss my kids and my grandkids. I miss my friends. I miss hugs and socialization.

To try to thwart the low feelings, I spend Sunday outdoors as much as possible. After pups and breakfast come taking care of the hens. They are a motley looking crew right now in the midst of molt so the coop, run, and surrounding yard are dusted with feathers, black ones, red ones, brown ones, feathers everywhere. Normally, it is just letting them out, making sure they have food and water. But yesterday, the coop was cleaned for the start of cold weather. When weather gets cold enough to freeze the water outside the coop, it is important they have water inside the coop, usually a bucket that will be dumped and refilled daily, eventually having to break the ice out of it each day. Because of the molt, there are very few eggs, only 1 in the past 4 days.

After the games began at 1, I brought out the riding the mower out set a notch lower than last week and mowed the front, sides, and back of the house. The orchard, pine trees, and well head areas are still growing, mostly too high to mow with the riding mower at this point.

The Dogwood near house is not a native variety, the native ones have small red berries this time of year. The one near the house has a larger knobby berry that looks like a big firm raspberry.

The deer have stripped the new leaves from the grape vine again. Now that they have found it, it really is vital to put a hot wire around it next year if there are to be any grapes to harvest. A task to be done on another day.

Night before last night I finished spinning the second color of the Shenandoah braid and yesterday morning finished the sample that came with the new spindle. I have already spun 56 2/3 grams of fiber this month and my first update photo shown below was posted. I should put it aside and work on the knits if they are going to get done. Soon being outdoors will be less enticing and fewer outdoor jobs to do and more knitting will be done, I did get several inches done on the sweater after dark.

Since it was a nice day, I attempted to burn the asparagus tops, the pulled tomato plants, and the dead sunflowers. Though it started nicely, it quickly went out, I guess it is still too green. Another attempt will be made after they have had a couple more weeks to dry or we get a real frost. This rids the asparagus patch of beetles and reduces the weeds as well as getting rid of the garden waste that doesn’t break down into compost for years unless shredded and we have no shredder.

More peppers, more tomatillos brought in, but the tomatillo plants really seem to have taken the worst hit with the frost. There are no new blossoms and only a couple dozen small fruits. The forecast shows no chance of frost again for at least 10 days. The garden will continue to grow and produce.

We ended a beautiful, busy weekend with an evening walk around the pond a couple of times. A flock of geese noisily circled the pond a few times and two landed for the night. Three ducks were perched on a log out in the water.

It was near dark by the time we got out. It is amazing how quickly it gets dark this time of year. In spite of all the day’s activities, I am sad that it couldn’t be spent with family, a visit to one our sons and their families, or a meal or hike with our daughter and hers.

Stay safe out there. Be responsible, I want family time again.