My little city farm
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and now, pickles
While we were out…the cukes and zukes went crazy. I knew they would. The tomatoes are conspiring to be right behind. But I’ve counted all my jars and it looks like time to pickle. Today: “Sandwich stackers,” they call them at Vlasic. Gonna slice those cucumbers lengthwise and fill two 1/2 gallon jars with refrigerator pickles. I would attempt to seal these jars for shelf-life, but I don’t have a pot large enough for a full water bath. Actually, I do — that’s a fib — but I’m scared to use it. It’s called Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, and it’s my ginormous pressure cooker [shudders]. Before Cucumbers from the garden.…
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The Longest Night
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vacation return
Back at work in my little city farm, at my little city desk, after a little mountain retreat at Lake Tahoe. Here are some beautiful pix of where we were and what we did. Daveland, Meyers, South Lake Tahoe. Mr. Husband and The Boy, with the Eagle Lake bridge behind them. Yep. That’s me. Blocking the scenery. The view from a walk. Upper Truckee River, about a mile from Daveland. Source of all mosquitoes and peaceful views. Here’s where I was, most of the time. See my journal? Yes, it’s true. Everywhere I go turns into a hillbilly household. So…that’s about it. Took everything we needed. The males spent their days…
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preservationista
So — what’s in your freezer? Been busy on the home front, taking care of produce and other food items that come our way. The dehydrator continues, nonstop, drying apples today. Yesterday I dried a few of the farmers’ market nectarines and plums, plus most of a flat of strawberries. They dry nice and chewy and sweet — the best “gummy” fruit you ever had, since it is pure sliced fruit through and through. No preservatives, either. Kid-tested, and she said, “Mmm.” I’m gonna buy another flat of strawberries to dry before the week is up, if I can. I just processed a couple of quarts of green beans for…
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omelette du jour
Busy days on my little city farm. The hens, bless their pointy little beaks, are laying, to the tune of about one egg a day on average. And the eggs are getting a little bigger each day. At least two hens are laying; you can see by their feet (thanks, Linda, for the tip), which go kind of grayish-silvery green in tone. I’ve caught two of the hens in the act, or crowing about it (heh) afterward, so cheers to Violet and Rosie. I’m sure Bluebell isn’t far behind. Poppy, however, is on my $&^#*! list. Maybe she’s jealous. Maybe she’s horny. Maybe she has a Napoleonic complex. She hasn’t laid…
