Posts Tagged ‘Evening Chores’
Full Moon Farming
Our full moon hides behind a bank of storm clouds tonight. It peeks out and then sneaks back in, covered by a mass of gray. There’s something about doing evening chores under the soft glow of a full moon that makes everything seem new and pleasant. She rises slowly over the tree tops, seemingly out of nowhere. She watches as we muck about in boots with buckets and bags, through dirt and mud and poo. She watches the night unfold on our little farm.
She watches as Brianne throws hay and grain into the lamb’s feed trough and bounces light off the water as it cascades from an overturned bucket when the water is changed; sparkling clean and clear like the reflection of a mirror when it is replaced.
The moon peers down on us as we move from chicken coop to rabbit hutch, replacing bedding, filling feeders and turning kitchen scrapes into meat and eggs. She laughs with us as we hunt for egg treasures in the far corners of the barn. The girls have gotten clever at finding new places to hide their eggs – under the hay wagon, behind a feed barrel, inside a bucket, but we always manage to find them before too long. I talk to Sophia and stroke her head as I hand her a small treat, congratulating her on another successful egg.
The new lambs seem to be settling in just fine. Some do so faster than others. After 30-years of bringing lambs onto a farm I have learned that they each have their own time. All we can offer them is feed, water and shelter, medical help when they need it and a small bit of attention. The rest is on sheep’s time – they either settle in or they don’t. We have two wethers right now, one a charcoal grey Hampshire cross, the other the same breed, but white with wool on its face, both weighing about 95 pounds. Brianne will show them all spring before selling them to kids who can show them at the county fair. Sheep come and go on this farm. Some are shown, some are sold and some are butchered to feed a mom and a daughter. It is the heart of this place and its owners.
As I start for the house I turn back and look at the barn, the coop, the sheep, the new vegetable beds ready to be filled and the partially built duck and turkey runs. I hear Sophia rattling around in the barn, the hens cooing in their nests and the roosters settling in high in the rafters. I hear the lambs chew their cuds. The moon watches all this too. I smile.
I think about spring and know it will be here all too soon. But, I also know that chores under a full moon are a gift of winter and I am pleasured by it. I continue to the house thankful for the soft glow of a warming fire and the big pot of soup that awaits.
The storm can rage all it wants now, for the farm and its owners are warm and safe and fed.
photo credit: trustypics
Labor Day
How appropriate to have this holiday on the first day of the work week. To be free from the confines of an office job is a heavenly reminder of a life moving toward simplicity. The peaches we bought on a mountain day trip yesterday were turned into peach jam and spiced peaches today, with a few left whole for eating fresh or for making into cobbler.
We ate roast chicken, corn and biscuits on the patio tonight. The chicken was one of our own. Raised free and butchered by its owners. I realized tonight that I, more often than not, bake or roast a chicken rather than fry it. Force of habit I guess. Seems easier to pop it into the oven then stand over a skillet of scalding oil on a hot summer’s day. The breast and thigh meat had a crispy skin and was dripping with juice. Delicious. The corn was succulent and the biscuits flakey. We watched the chickens and goose scour the yard for tidbits then run to us begging for a treat. No treats to be had this night, unless you consider eating your own a treat.
Small patches of life are dwindling now; the little farm is slowly readying itself for a long nap. Except for a short hike, we spent the whole day at home, all of it. It was a Labor and a labor day spent on a small suburban homestead at the edge of town. We ate food we grew and cooked ourselves. We worked up a cleansing sweat. Took naps in the shade where the wind and sun could replenish our souls, and felt pampered as the iPod sang sweetly into our headphones.
During evening chores, we saw wisps of clouds quietly roll in, the forefront of some far off storm that might materialize into rain. I liked the way it felt like a season changing. Afterwards we came in to a soothing lukewarm soak in the tub with lavender soap and candlelight and emerged cool and refreshed. We poured ourselves a glass of cider, the last vestiges of the previous fall and fell into the sofa for a movie; an epic mini-series, long and meandering; a peaceful end to our humble day.
The cool clamminess of the evening air reminds me of the thunder storms I saw in Colorado. Thunderous exhales of light and sound that bumbled across the night sky, lighting up the horizon as it moved through the Estes Valley. These are the kind of fireworks shows I like…thunder and lightening; the perfect combination of flashing light and crashing sound for a day when we can all look back and be grateful. There were no people on this land during the difficult times of our country’s history. Not the Civil War of the 1860’s nor WWI in 1916, not even the Great Depression. The same holds true for WWII and Viet Nam. It’s too new, too modern. Tonight we can relax, safe from the worry of men gone to war in some far off land.
Tonight it’s just a mom, a girl, a dog, a farm and a glass of aged cider.
It’s strange, I think, how Memorial Day and Independence Day and Labor Day can stir such emotions in me, make me feel so patriot, so grateful of those that came before me and how much I owe them for the life I lead. Small thanks from a homesteader in suburbia, I think, but thanks is all I’ve got.
I hope you all had a wonderful holiday weekend. I really mean that.
Not Your Basic BBQ
It’s true that hamburgers and hotdogs have long reigned as BBQ favorites, but times are a changing folks. These days, backyard grilling has reached a new level of sophistication, both in flavors and in the array of ingredients that are available.
Here in California, where weather permits us to grill well after our eastern friends have turned on the heat; flavors, textures and ole time favorites combine to turn bar-be-queuing on its head.
Even with our busy schedules, livestock shows and preparations for the new college student, we have spent more time this summer cooking on the grill than any other summer I can remember. We’ve been doing a lot of experimenting too. These nighttime grillings are not your standard steak and chicken faire. There’s the spicy Mandarin marinade with its minced fresh ginger and green onions that we use on lamb steaks and chops, the savory Bangkok spices rubbed into riblets and our, traditionally cold weather favorite, lemon garlic chicken has turned out to be as wonderful on the grill as it is in the oven.
We also found a new Cowboy BBQ sauce that has been great on beef. All these cook along side seasonal vegetables, corn and potatoes and are served with a variety of salads, from Asian Noodle Salad to 5-Color Slaw to our stand-by mixed green, pecan and blue cheese favorite.
It’s a relaxing way to spend an evening—standing over the grill while Brianne goes about her evening chores of feeding animals and working her show lambs. When we shift gears, and Brianne watches over the grill, I water the garden, pick flowers or just revel in the calm simplicity of our farm life. What a way to end the day…family, food and peace. Read the rest of the story »
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Aenean nonummy hendrerit mauris. Phasellus porta.