Posts Tagged ‘Morning Chores’
Black Footed Raven
Life is cold here on the farm. The grass is tipped white from a recent cold snap and the chickens do not like the frigid water in their trough. When we make the rounds doing our morning chores the roosters crow and their breathe rises skyward like fog coming off a mountain lake. The girls have started laying again; their short sabbatical had us coveting every egg we collected. We only get 1 or 2 eggs a day. Compared to the 10 to 12 a day we get in high summer it’s hardly a drop, but it’s enough to keep us in breakfasts and baking, so we are happy.
A raven has taken up residence in the backyard. Each morning he perches on top of the arbor watching what goes on below. Sometimes when I’m writing near the front window I see him standing on the finial of the birdbath, using his long black beak to play with the pebbles that line the basin or take a drink of water that has accumulated from a recent storm or the morning dew. He hops around picking up tidbits he finds on the ground, then lights out for the nearest tree branch to get a better perspective. The hens stay inside when he’s around, and if they happen to be roaming the garden when he arrives they scurry back to the safety of the barn.
We’ve laid a new layer of bedding in the nesting boxes and on the coop floor. With the recent rain storms the flock has spent more time in the coop, tramping down and scratching up the straw. Their abode is now deep and warm in straw, much to their liking, I think.
My sewing machine and I are getting reacquainted, but we’re not friends yet. It’s been months since I finished my last quilt project and the colder weather has given me an itch to start anew. This latest project has been whirling around in my head for quite some time, but I was indecisive on how to start. It’s a patchwork, crazy quilt with appliquéd hearts – all made from corduroy shirts I’ve been collecting from thrift store sales. So – the other day I just jumped in, not really sure how I was going to proceed. So far, it’s been a slow process, like learning the proper way to bow a fiddle or pluck a banjo. Some day maybe I’ll make a quilt from an actual pattern, tried and true. Nay – what’s the fun in that?
A Thrifty Thanksgiving
It’s November 2010, the elections are fresh in our minds and everywhere we go there are the reminders of the coming holiday season. But, the economy still looms heavy on our minds. Fears about jobs, price increases and shortages have us feeling uncertain about what this season will be like.
BUT – here on our little homestead we’re determined not to let this air of uncertainty affect our love of fall and one of the two biggest holidays of the calendar Thanksgiving. We have however decided to make this a budgeted holiday with plenty of memory making activities like free concerts, walks through the decorated areas of town with a mug full of warm apple cider and holiday programs.
So, how does one have a thrifty Thanksgiving dinner? By using what you have on hand, that’s how.
We’ll start a few days before Thanksgiving by thawing out a 9-1/2 pound roasting chicken from a batch we raised last year. I’ll make a few fresh loaves of bread (saving enough dough to make dinner rolls) with herbs from the garden baked in, as a base for our stuffing. When it’s cooled enough I’ll cube it and let it dry out.
On Wednesday I’ll prepare a brine of coarse salt, spices, herbs, apples and cider. The chicken will soak in the brining bucket, submerged in its flavorful concoction for 24-hours.
On Thanksgiving morning, once the animals are fed and morning chores complete, and the chicken is thoroughly rinsed and set out to come to room temperature, we’ll pack up our gear and head to our favorite hiking area. While most people are frantically trying to get their turkeys in the oven by mid-morning we’ll be trekking the hills breathing in fresh air and reveling in the colors of nature. Home by noon and with a light lunch of soup and grilled cheese sandwiches, on home baked bread, we’ll be fortified enough to put our energies into our evening meal.
Brianne will peel and cube homegrown potatoes for our cheesy herb infused mash, while my sister slices a newly harvested Butternut squash that will be baked with brown sugar, butter and spices. Greens will be washed and prepared for a wonderful fall mixed green, pecan, blue cheese and cranberry salad with Blueberry-Pomegranate dressing, all from ingredients in my pantry.
The stuffing, squash and dinner rolls will go into the oven and cook along with the bird.
Once the turkey – I mean chicken – is finished roasting I’ll whip up some gravy from the drippings and all will be laid out on a festive table as a grand feast.
The whole meal will be finished off with individual Harvest Pumpkin cakes, made from our own successful pumpkin patch, and topped with a cream cheese frosting and pecan halves.
There you have it, a wonderfully filling homegrown, homemade Thanksgiving feast.
For the rest of the evening we’ll settle into a roaring fire watching some of our favorite movies. I’ll take comfort in the fact that this years celebration was made mainly from ingredients we grew ourselves or already had one hand, with only a few items purchased at the Farmer’s Market for just a few dollars. I can now rest easy that what had caused me concern will turn out to be a wonderful and intimate celebration of the harvest.
That’s the perfect ending to a perfect day.
photo credit: Alanna Kellogg
Fall Begins
This morning was dark and chilly, and the fog hung low over the farm like a vale. The temperature was in the low 40’s here. It was the first morning that I needed layers of thermals and sweatshirts and warm gloves to do the morning chores. It was the coldest morning so far, and when I exhaled my breath swirled up into the dim morning light like smoke out of a chimney.
Brianne is on a senior class retreat up in the mountains, so feeding falls to me. I scooped out grain for the lambs; it made a loud crashing noise in the quiet morning as it hit the metal feeder. The hens were already cackling to be let out, but not this day. I threw hay to the lambs and gave a bit to the rabbit. Dutch ran from barn to corral and back again, trying to keep up. He’s always with me when I’m outside.
I spent a few minutes in the barn just watching the chickens scratch the ground and the lambs vie for the best feeder space. I smiled as if I had won the lottery. I could smell the damp compost and freshly turned earth as I walked the farm in the cold mist. Mornings like these are like being in heaven (I think). When all were fed I went inside to fix a pot of tea. I was greeted by the faint scent of the pumpkin spice bread I made last night. Hot tea and warm bread oozing with butter, can morning get any better?
The fog will not last today, but the season will go on.
Yesterday was the Autumnal Equinox, but today is the first day of fall. I am a happy farmgirl!
Pumpkin Spice Bread
½ cup butter, room temp
1 cup light brown sugar
2 eggs, fresh
1-1/2 cups all purpose flour
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp salt
1 tsp pumpkin pie spice
1 cup pumpkin puree
½ cup apple sauce
½ cup pecans, chopped
Preheat oven to 350.
Cream butter, sugar and eggs.
Sift the dry ingredients and combine with butter mixture. Mix well, but don’t over mix. Add pumpkin and apple sauce; stir well. Stir in nuts and pour into a buttered loaf pan. Bake 1 hour or until toothpick inserted comes out clean. Turn onto rack to cool.
photo credit: kardboard604
Stealing the Day
I feel like I have stolen this day. I took off from work, so instead of the usual morning routine I really took my time with farm chores this morning. Nothing grand, just a few extra moments to check over the animals, water the plants on the porch and brew a pot of fresh tea, which I just pulled off the stove burbling and gerking as I pour it into the teapot. Oh, it’s shear decadence for an office farmer to have a day off work.
Moments ago, when I walked outside, the grass was damp from the early morning fog. In spite of its sogginess, the sun was out; the sky was a clear blue and bounced off every tiny droplet. I breathed deep, taking it all in, savoring the taste. It’s hard to feel Zen though when sheep are baaing, hens are cackling, dogs are barking and a lone rabbit is racing around in his hutch. They all want breakfast and they all want it now. You can see how that moment wasn’t quite serene. But, it was to me.
Brianne and I started our morning chores like we always do, in the sheep pen. They are the most eager and can cause the most trouble if not fed promptly, so off she went to fill grain buckets, top off the water trough and throw a few handfuls of hay. I fed and checked on the dogs then moved towards the chicken coop to make sure we hadn’t lost anyone in the night. With the headcount complete I lifted the latch on the gate and let the hens out into the barn. From there they can make their way into the garden and around the yard.
Every day we let the hens out of their coop, and give them a chance to feel the warm sun, scratch in the dirt looking for bugs and peck at the green grass. They’re sneaky beasts though. Clever enough to fly over fences and too curious to stay out of the garden, so I keep them away from the lettuce just to give myself peace of mind.
A load of laundry I washed last night is ready to hang on the line. The sun was barely over the tree tops as I clipped each piece of clothing to the line. Laundry is an oddly calming job, almost therapeutic.
By the time we came inside I felt oddly refreshed from our slow morning of chores.
Our weekend mostly involved transporting sheep (Brianne was involved with a showmanship workshop) and June gardening.
I’ve come to the conclusion that “June gardening” is just a romantic way of saying weeding. I spent hours down on my hands and knees pulling intruders from between the rows. This year’s garden started out to be the most diverse we’ve ever attempted, and we have the weeds to show for it, but we haven’t been without our troubles. And, the only things that seem to be thriving in the garden are the rabbits and squirrels. Our verdant young peach tree that was loaded has now been stripped bare. Not one peach is left. Oh, a few pits clung to the branches, but nothing that’s edible for us. I don’t mind part of my crops going to the wildlife, but when they get greedy that’s another matter entirely.
This is a strange place to be a homesteader. I have never lived or worked with so many people that stand on both sides of the farming fence. Nearly half my neighbors grow their own, while the other half has no use for gardening at all. I’m sometimes a telephone farmer as well. Just yesterday, my neighbor Fran called to talk about the new chicks we had given her and how they were too timid to go inside the coop, so spent the night under the ramp that leads to the coop. Seems like everyone’s working for their supper these days.
As I type things are pretty quiet outside, which is a rare occurrence. Their mouths must be full. From the kitchen door I can see the roosters strut around the yard guarding his girls. I see the sheep frolicking and chasing each other in their fenced yard. I know the rabbit is content and the dogs are napping after their morning meal. And me—the Queen of all this majesty¬—am enjoying a cup of tea smooth enough to calm any savage beast.
Not a bad way to start a stolen day. Not bad at all.
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