We were given a winter prediction of warmer than average and average rain (not snow). Things are not as predicted, but I am ok with that. It has been cold and we have had lots of “snow days.” Not block you at home snow, just pretty to watch snow. I awoke this morning to a new coating on the yard, the third morning this week. It stayed at or near freezing all day and snowed off and on all day. The cover would thin or nearly go away as the sun came out, then it would cloud and snow again. When I went to get the mail at the top of the driveway, it was snowing hard and the sun was out. I looked for a snowbow but didn’t see one. As I went out to secure the hens at dusk, it was coming in again.
The lengthening days have all of the hens preparing to start laying eggs again. After buying a dozen at the Farmers Market last weekend, I got 4 from the Olive Eggers this week, 2 dark olive and 2 lighter green, so both of them are laying. Today there was a green one and a brown one (might have been the pinker color, it is too difficult to tell by house light). As I stood by the coop waiting for them to coop up so I could lock their door for the night, I noticed that 8 of the 9 have healthy red combs and wattles again. One is always reluctant to go in at night, she isn’t as healthy looking at the others and she has a very small, pale comb. I fear she may not be well, but she is a chicken, not a pet. If she shows real signs of illness, she will be isolated from the others to prevent spread, but if she is just not thriving, she will live out her life with them until the flock is replaced next fall or winter.
It is about time to sort through the seeds and see what else needs to be purchased as garden planning begins. After letting the chickens have garden time at the end of the season, they kicked most of the good soil out of several of the boxes, so some early spring work will have to be done to get ready, but not while the ground is mostly frozen. I have accumulated a good pile of cardboard to prepare the area that wasn’t planted last year after digging out the mint. That area will give me another 4 by 8 foot bed to use. As I plan to move the compost pile back to the northwest corner, I have started using that area between the fence and the bed planted with the garlic to put kitchen scraps until the garlic is harvested and that box moved. I need to get daughter and grand daughter on board to decide what they want to plant this year as well.
After my post yesterday, the state announced they were opening up Covid vaccines to the federal guidelines and I have pre-registered for mine. Now I await the call that will send me to the designated location to get it.
“Make America Great Again.” A statement made to win an election. America was great because of Democracy. It was what made us a world leader, a country to emulate, to count on. A country where repressed people could apply to become part of our great nation.
“Make America Great Again” was the cry of an unhinged man who wanted to be an autocrat, a phrase that meant “make America white again,” to stop immigration from any country that wasn’t “white,” to destroy the progress that had been made with civil liberties and rights of all Americans. To undermine the progress that has been made in race relations, in rights of Americans who are in the LBGQIA+ communities. To despoil the lands of the Native Americans, to reduce and despoil our National Parks in the name of dollars. The promises made were not kept, they couldn’t be. This is not democracy and doesn’t represent the majority.
A cry from a man whose goal was to line his own pockets with gold at the expense of the country he was supposed to lead. A cry from a man who doesn’t recognize the truth or doesn’t care. A man who abdicated his duties from the beginning.
What happened yesterday at his instigation, an insurrection, the violation of the symbol of our Democracy and the disruption of the Democratic process was unconscionable at the least. A criminal act by thousands of people who call themselves Americans. This doesn’t “Make American Great Again,” it makes us an international fool, it shows our weaknesses. And never during or after these actions could he stand up and tell them to stand down, that he lost a fair and honest election, that the people spoke, the courts upheld, and Congress was trying to certify.
I remain horrified by the turn our country has taken in the past 4 years, I hope our leaders can come together and work to heal, but to have 100 representatives still argue against certification after the coup attempt by people carrying Confederate flags, Trump flags, the black and white desecration of the American flag, breaking down doors and breaking windows to illegally enter the Capitol building, damaging offices of our elected official is not hopeful.
We don’t have to agree with our neighbors to remain civil with them. Violence is not the answer. We need to heal, to find peace, to find compromise. To attempt to rebuild our nation and hope that the damage that has been done in the past four years doesn’t destroy us as a nation.
I was shaken badly by this and fear for the America my children and grandchildren may be facing. Healing for our nation is not in the hands of one man, it has to come from all of us.
As COVID cases rise in Virginia, our Governor has tightened some of the restrictions which is a good thing. He has also allowed the Health Department more teeth in enforcement. I hope that being charged with a Class One Misdemeanor will get some of the local businesses’ attention. All of these changes go into effect at midnight tonight and we will see if anything changes.
Saturday mornings are a time for us to go get breakfast and go to the Farmers’ Market. We usually drive through for breakfast, but chose to go to the bagel shop this morning and I ran in to get the bagels and beverages to eat in the car. The Farmers’ Market first hour is supposed to be for shoppers over 55 and people with pre-orders. The market is outdoors and opens at 9 a.m. We arrived at 9:20 and the line extended down the streets on two sides of the market. There are dots painted on the side walk for social distancing and most people are adhering to that, but if it is a group of 4 or 5 people together, they are standing at one dot. I wouldn’t have even gotten in the line, but gone home except I am not only well over 55, but had pre-ordered from several vendors. The line in front of me was packed with young people, most who entered the market to get prepared food and beverages and mill around browsing. Only 50 shoppers are supposed to be allowed within the confines of the market at a time but there were many more today, with many vendors having 2 or even 3 sellers in their stall and as this was a Holiday Market, there are many more vendors selling crafts, so the number in this corner of the block far exceeded a safe number and the crowd made it difficult to quickly get my pick up orders and get out.
Because I have been a vendor at the Holiday Markets in years past, I appreciate the local shoppers, but because of our ages and underlying health situation, today I did not feel safe. When I got home, I did email the market manager and he kindly responded. The college students will be gone soon for the rest of the semester, so hopefully, the crowd situation will abate. If not, our Saturday morning routine may have to end like so many of our other routines. At least I can still do curbside delivery at Eat’s Natural Foods or Annie Kay’s Natural Foods and the local grocer.
When we got home, I de-iced the chest freezer, organized it and took inventory of what was on hand. I fear as we go into winter and cases rise, there will be another run on supplies and grocery goods or slots for curbside pick up will fill making even safe pick up difficult. Right now, between our garden supply frozen and canned and market goods frozen and root cellar stored, we are in pretty good shape, I even have the necessaries to have a full Thanksgiving for two and we will then eat turkey left overs forever.
I sure hope that the pending vaccines will make this go away. I miss going out. I miss my children and grandchildren. I want to feel safe again.
This has been a year of change with the garden and some lessons learned, some good, some not so good. And along with my garden, the reports from Granddaughter’s garden that I helped design and did the planting guide, I’ve made some decisions. The journal needs to be updated so that in the spring, when it is time to plan, I remember my lessons. Last weekend while talking to Son 1 on our socially distanced meet up, he described his A-frame trellis he made for his tomatoes. I tried the single leader method this year with tall poles, but the tomatoes won again and some production and harvest were lost. He built long 4 foot wide beds with sufficient path between them. Put the trellis in the middle and planted on both sides of it. He has the advantage that his yard is flat where my garden is anything but flat, but I have a blade on my tractor that is 5 feet wide and I think if I take down the fencing, I can terrace my garden. We are not lacking for large stones that could be the retaining walls between long beds. If I did that, an A-frame like he described could be built and set and the tomatoes trained through the open lattice work which would give them more air and more light. I think shorter versions of it might work for peas and cucumbers that also tend to overwhelm my efforts. When he and his wife were doing the grounds work, stone masonry, and waiting for the shell of the our house to be complete so they could turn to the interior finishing, the garden which they started was much larger and was long raised mound beds ignoring the slope by just leveling the tops of the mounds. Returning to that plan might be the easiest method for me to use, but I still have the paths that get so weedy even when I put down cardboard or newspaper first. But I have been using old hay in the paths, so I have been setting myself up for a problem there.
The compost pile was moved this year and a box built where it had been. That box gets shaded from the asparagus in the morning and the garage in late afternoon, so that box is going to be removed, the compost pile started there again and the space where it is now will be incorporated into a long bed with the asparagus at one end. The peppers had enough space and they did fine. The tomatillos were trained up a garden stake and tied but late season, they had gotten so tall they were falling all over the bed they had shared with beans early in the season, so that wasn’t a big deal. The ground cherries that I wanted to try were just planted too late. I gave them about 20 days longer than the package said they needed, but it wasn’t enough, so they will go in with late spring plantings. The fall peas were not trellised like the spring peas, the package said they didn’t have to be, but they are a fallen tangled mess that the slugs have found, so I’m probably not going to get many if any fall peas.
It may be time to open the passage way from the chicken run to the garden and turn them loose in there instead of the yard and let them clean up bugs and seeds, scratch up the weeds before tackling the reorganization plan.
Today and tomorrow are the last two days of a very warm, dry start to November. Cooler, more seasonal temperatures and rain are due beginning Wednesday and lingering through the weekend. Taking advantage of the beautiful morning, the last of the beans were pulled for next year’s seed and the plant skeletons tossed on the compost pile.
I love how the pods become speckled with red. They are now spread out on a raised screen in the garage to finish drying. Once dry they will be packaged in a small jar or bag for next spring’s planting. That is one seed that is easy to save and pure as they are the only variety of bean I planted and the neighbor’s gardens are far enough away and separated by woods on both sides according to the Seed Saver’s book.
While out there pulling them, the ground cherry plants were pulled and put in the burn pile, the marigolds are dead, so seed head were gathered for next year and the plants with the remaining seed tossed into the chicken run, though they are out in the yard and don’t realize it yet.
They will sit out for a few days to ensure they are thoroughly dry before packaging them up for next spring.
I should go harvest Zinnea and Calendula seed too before it begins to rain, though the Calendula usually self seeds and plantlets can be dug and moved once they are up. Harvesting some seed would be insurance though. . . .
I’m back, my thoughts sent me back out to harvest more flower seed and to open the chicken run to the garden for the winter.
Zinnea, Calendula, and Marigold seed drying for storage. By opening the garden to the hens, I’ve basically closed the book on the 2020 garden. It was a good one, productive with lessons learned.
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.
Two batches about to be cocooned to saponify over night.Perfectly unmolded this morning.16 beautiful, consistent bars curing to useable hardness. The end slivers cure and are cut in half for guest soaps.
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.
Cabin Crafted 