tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-59717778589690294062024-02-21T12:25:11.249-05:00Who's Got Your Goat?Ruminations on
a Capricious Tail [sic]S.Eckerthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03630951405869168215noreply@blogger.comBlogger383125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5971777858969029406.post-28191416751982575712013-10-09T14:14:00.000-04:002013-10-09T14:14:27.892-04:00I'm Back!Please follow<b> <a href="http://sandraeckertart.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">this link</a> </b>to my very incomplete online portfolio. <br />
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After a year+ of familial chaos, I'm ready to write again. There have been lots of changes. Hold on to your hats! There's a storm a-comin'!<br />
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S.Eckerthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03630951405869168215noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5971777858969029406.post-41511539644989561172012-03-30T21:47:00.003-04:002012-03-31T10:34:12.496-04:00Faith's Kids: Class of 2012<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gustav and Gypsy, Class of 2012</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Cambria;">It’s a Boy!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And a Girl!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Cambria;">I can’t begin to tell you how long I was waiting for those words, or something similar.</span><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Cambria;"> </span></o:p>F<span style="font-family: Cambria;">or the past two years, my pretty Nubian goat, Faith, has been a picky breeder.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The first year on the farm (three years ago), she declined the buck’s invitation and gave herself the season off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could live with that; after all, she had just arrived at the farm and needed to adjust to life with Toggenburgs, having come from a purely Nubian environment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I chalked her reticence up to culture shock, and gave her the grace of a year off.</span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Cambria;"> </span></o:p><span style="font-family: Cambria;">Last year, in a fit of pique, I decided to return her to her birthplace to be bred by a registered buck for purebred babies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In October, when the rest of our herd came into heat, we packed her into the backseat of the truck and gave her a lift to see her fella, a beautiful Nubian buck named Jolt Cola.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Well, Faith and Jolt enjoyed each other’s company for nearly a month before they consummated their relationship.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My girl apparently believes in long courtships. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Happily, her month-long date eventually resulted in the most beautiful triplets you’ve ever seen; two girls and a boy, all born toward the end of the three week long March birthing period at the farm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The fees associated with her breeding and upkeep during that time really stacked up, though the babies were adorable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was a terrible mother though, having never experienced the joys of nursing her own babies; the one she had before coming to the farm was taken as a bottle baby.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fiona and Fauni Dell (Class of 2011, Bottle Babies)</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Cambria;">This year, we’re planning on sending Miss Faith to live with a dear friend in Virginia in a month or two; my life circumstances are changing, and I won’t be able to spend as much time on the farm as I did in the past.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was a mediocre milker last year, and her newest babies were destined to stay on the farm, though last year’s Nubian kids will join her in Virginia.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Since the farm is a dairy farm in addition to being an agricultural education center, we chose to breed her to one of the house bucks, an award winning Toggenburg whose daughters have superior udders.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Faith had different ideas.</span><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria;">Once again, Miss Faith played hard-to get for nearly a month.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The day before the bucks were removed from the breeding pasture, she finally succumbed to one of the boy’s charms; I suspect her courtship required dinner and dancing before he could be successful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Miss Faith is the barn diva, after all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She’s special.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With her Nubian intelligence and charm, she is fully aware of her feminine wiles and powers of persuasion.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Apparently Herve (or George, we’re not sure) was persuasive in his own right, because Faith finally ended up pregnant.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Cambria;"> </span></o:p><span style="font-family: Cambria;">Twenty goats delivered before her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Twins, triplets; the place was overrun with playful kids, milky mommas, and happy visitors.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Faith stayed pregnant.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The last Toggenburg delivered a week ago; Faith was too round to sleep well anymore, groaning when she breathed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her knees began to click.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She gave me the stink eye whenever I lifted her tail.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Everyone who came to visit gave her a pep-talk: “What are you waiting for, Faith?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Squeeeeezzzzzeeeee!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She held out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A Diva, even gravidly pregnant.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><br />
<span style="font-family: Cambria;">Yesterday was the first day I milked the goats this year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The boys had gone to market, a difficult day for everyone, and the new season of milking began.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a good feeling though, spending time with my girls again. My body ached from being out of practice, but even so, the warm round bellies and happy munching of grain brought back sweet memories.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I mourned Daisy, who we lost after a difficult delivery.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I brought Faith to the stand for some grain (and practice), even though she wasn’t showing any sign of giving birth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Another pep-talk ensued.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Daisy</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Cambria;">When I was finished, I had about an hour between milking and the beginning of our monthly board meeting, so I went out for a burger and a beer, and returned to the farm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No dice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Faith chewed her cud and smiled like the Mona Lisa.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I went to the meeting. </span><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Cambria;"> </span></o:p><span style="font-family: Cambria;">A few hours later, on my way out, I stopped by for one last look, and there it was: the first tell-tale mucous.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Kathy checked her out, and proclaimed an imminent birth, so we waited…and waited.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I tried to nap in her guest room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Couldn’t do it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Went outside to check on her, and found Julie, another board member, sitting in the birthing stall with her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I sacked out in the stall awhile; nothing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Julie and I watched her vulva like nervous aunties.</span></div><br />
<span style="font-family: Cambria;">Finally, at midnight, with my 5:30 am wake-up time looming and Faith looking inscrutable, I gave up and headed home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Kathy was sleeping next to the baby monitor, and Faith wasn’t cooperating.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I needed to sleep. It was so hard to leave, but I knew she was in the best hands; Kathy is an experienced dairy woman and a human midwife.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Who better to assist the Baroness of the Barn?</span><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Cambria;"> </span></o:p><span style="font-family: Cambria;">Well, on the way to school this morning, I got the call: a baby boy had been born!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Faith was cleaning him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All was well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>NURSING?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Miss Faith, the Diva, must have learned a thing or two from her herd-mates.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>10 more minutes, and her daughter was born with a little help from Kathy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The calls kept coming until my first class arrived, and all was well. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Cambria;">Faith, the Prettiest Girl in the Barn, has found her maternal side; it becomes her.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDNFuiAJiT_IYIDLPTd5RsuhQ-BAy5R4zebba2CsC3q1JGNxLzzAOLOf0sOJQnfpcMOwXNxJ0UyWarOPs2W3z1ZtCKoWRCa7phMGqZFlOsEhVfAh02atWB4xoEr14iVcC5V98XIVehQb4i/s1600/DSC00882.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="246" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDNFuiAJiT_IYIDLPTd5RsuhQ-BAy5R4zebba2CsC3q1JGNxLzzAOLOf0sOJQnfpcMOwXNxJ0UyWarOPs2W3z1ZtCKoWRCa7phMGqZFlOsEhVfAh02atWB4xoEr14iVcC5V98XIVehQb4i/s320/DSC00882.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div>S.Eckerthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03630951405869168215noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5971777858969029406.post-43224305807471544372012-03-13T21:33:00.001-04:002012-03-14T08:58:24.194-04:00Welcome Spring!It may seem a little early, but with the birth of most of our kids, the onset of warm weather, and my first wild-foraged dinner, it surely feels like spring is here!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNCFK_e12FXuuC-dz8OWbCjiOu01s5rav6YCWsbD7SG2-__y3li1FdMbMkMFuQNBD3SEfcpY5dkmFwdgikkNfJqIPpNYStbkTmnkctm6HkqaE5UDYoZlcOOZv7bJnhHw3H4kxtMvWVwZbO/s1600/DSC00844.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNCFK_e12FXuuC-dz8OWbCjiOu01s5rav6YCWsbD7SG2-__y3li1FdMbMkMFuQNBD3SEfcpY5dkmFwdgikkNfJqIPpNYStbkTmnkctm6HkqaE5UDYoZlcOOZv7bJnhHw3H4kxtMvWVwZbO/s320/DSC00844.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mom as Theme Park</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">About a day or two after birth, the kids begin trying out their equipment; they leap, cavort, dance, and climb. Mom's back becomes a playground.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUrZYX6HMEqias166Z-d-3L9PWsF9-i17Uk74BrGkk-lQDnXULvzdbcjCNgC-n4_D82UyBk2JVjjcLgTlNcJOrano2j5ExHVENY21njDFQs2HgILrniBTt5RBmGLFDLl4rhFpv1LgLNg2E/s1600/DSC00851.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUrZYX6HMEqias166Z-d-3L9PWsF9-i17Uk74BrGkk-lQDnXULvzdbcjCNgC-n4_D82UyBk2JVjjcLgTlNcJOrano2j5ExHVENY21njDFQs2HgILrniBTt5RBmGLFDLl4rhFpv1LgLNg2E/s320/DSC00851.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sleepy Twins</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Which results in sleepy babies. Naps are as frequent as play periods for the first week or so.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_hcniZSkSu4mhXa61Q0EWkneSS5MGesim3NMABuEDz6FW4bcRazBiGTn-L4_MEvmdWAGNUyAygSn7nR6v9fJIHbj5izmk3mW4llpCZ8PBNfdejgo9bgLL2F1ylQZm5MClTPuirdvpS25y/s1600/DSC00866.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_hcniZSkSu4mhXa61Q0EWkneSS5MGesim3NMABuEDz6FW4bcRazBiGTn-L4_MEvmdWAGNUyAygSn7nR6v9fJIHbj5izmk3mW4llpCZ8PBNfdejgo9bgLL2F1ylQZm5MClTPuirdvpS25y/s320/DSC00866.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A Pile of Kids</td></tr>
</tbody></table>And everyone cuddles together in a big, warm pile. The moms enjoy these breaks in nursing.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP6MpqKO6jAw5zWt8lhenT8Vr52OfEsYIFcTCz8BS3sg5ao3KDzCYDAqkWMSYoga6k9pB8VU8Z3ejZaodrY36lj_7KkxOw6al06rZigMPNdriznQpIX0DyzXRQ4I-fDh8swqxkHGuPVK9A/s1600/DSC00865.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="264" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP6MpqKO6jAw5zWt8lhenT8Vr52OfEsYIFcTCz8BS3sg5ao3KDzCYDAqkWMSYoga6k9pB8VU8Z3ejZaodrY36lj_7KkxOw6al06rZigMPNdriznQpIX0DyzXRQ4I-fDh8swqxkHGuPVK9A/s320/DSC00865.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sleepy Babies</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;">I never get tired of fuzzy, sleepy, well fed kids!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Spring kids and spring greens come at the same time. Nature has it all figured out. In the wild, those babies and mommas would benefit from the natural goodness of the greens. They'll be outdoors enjoying spring soon! In the mean time, I'm enjoying the bounty.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIsi8gG10mmFXVXz5Y2kUoqtj8lPolaXPRHShygSUrSQrl80HHwKGs5NldjLseRZxLIFdWDBO2N-fNNzpKIOGNnl0l9ZZirCzJuwM5-B5a8_JpyEG9BS4K7AJSws-SuWbr5uFdnWp6O6k_/s1600/2012-03-13_18.02.35.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIsi8gG10mmFXVXz5Y2kUoqtj8lPolaXPRHShygSUrSQrl80HHwKGs5NldjLseRZxLIFdWDBO2N-fNNzpKIOGNnl0l9ZZirCzJuwM5-B5a8_JpyEG9BS4K7AJSws-SuWbr5uFdnWp6O6k_/s320/2012-03-13_18.02.35.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Easy Gleanings</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Today's short walk yielded garlic mustard, chickweed, stinging nettle, dead nettle, mint, wild onion, some oregano that returned to my garden from last year, and dandelion.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijcPX1OmxW88EPtIaE9E0WgPTyCV5_cE23PEcc559_REVOZJgs9uz9hESDrxvUBpmufdve1ZkB5rfrOqfIs1CipFEAH4UloYmU64rjA33GWRgBBMYlvu8YZ9sRV-TaKpypLdLJxY_uiZH2/s1600/2012-03-13_18.48.53.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijcPX1OmxW88EPtIaE9E0WgPTyCV5_cE23PEcc559_REVOZJgs9uz9hESDrxvUBpmufdve1ZkB5rfrOqfIs1CipFEAH4UloYmU64rjA33GWRgBBMYlvu8YZ9sRV-TaKpypLdLJxY_uiZH2/s320/2012-03-13_18.48.53.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Salad Greens</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The stinging nettle and some garlic mustard went into the saute pan, but the chickweed and other raw greens were reserved for the salad.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDlpLnSsmxHrc6woyBE9cHAJMPpj7TXURWOmzkGaylttZ1HS3rDrOPoWcmhRWTI3mQpWakVGCtp5kNpL8H8VI-HxYS1kuxtg7CIYNNxwJv60D2dZhqaadFZ0dwThZU93AhE3Sxdm9YJjRv/s1600/424425_3155733327303_1084309455_32607000_2139262856_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDlpLnSsmxHrc6woyBE9cHAJMPpj7TXURWOmzkGaylttZ1HS3rDrOPoWcmhRWTI3mQpWakVGCtp5kNpL8H8VI-HxYS1kuxtg7CIYNNxwJv60D2dZhqaadFZ0dwThZU93AhE3Sxdm9YJjRv/s320/424425_3155733327303_1084309455_32607000_2139262856_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sauteed Chicken and Nettles</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I started by sautéing some clean bacon, which I removed once brown. Next, I added half of a chicken breast, cut into chunks. When it was almost done, I added the damp nettles, chopped wild onion, and some garlic mustard. I cooked until tender, then finished with some slivered preserved lemons, salt and pepper, as well as the bacon pieces. This made 2 generous servings.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB-hHLVU5q3rPNCKKT_0blEijGTZ7buy0foGu9q7Yp9vBxceIgjkC2n9_nyec2OzsTL2NzDojcRtFU3mmRROZyWLsGcgF3-wIP7LFPjiaoaovw_0060UOXMAGVeAS0mUVamTkPPIyJZ0N0/s1600/424095_3155723567059_1084309455_32606995_279450919_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB-hHLVU5q3rPNCKKT_0blEijGTZ7buy0foGu9q7Yp9vBxceIgjkC2n9_nyec2OzsTL2NzDojcRtFU3mmRROZyWLsGcgF3-wIP7LFPjiaoaovw_0060UOXMAGVeAS0mUVamTkPPIyJZ0N0/s320/424095_3155723567059_1084309455_32606995_279450919_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Natural Chopped Salad<br />
<br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The rest of the greens were chopped, then tossed with preserved lemon, golden raisins and a little blue cheese, as well as two or three crumbled bacon pieces. Dressing wasn't necessary. This also made two generous servings (and I have leftover garlic mustard!). </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I could just feel the energy returning to my sleepy winter soul after dinner, and when I finally went to bed, I slept with the window open, and more soundly that I have in weeks. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Nature is good for us. Body AND soul.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div>S.Eckerthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03630951405869168215noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5971777858969029406.post-20845703766244181502012-03-07T09:36:00.000-05:002012-03-07T09:36:45.288-05:00Some Good Recipes: Kale and Whitefish, Stuffed Tomatoes and Wild Mushroom Casseroles<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.2pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><br />
</span><br />
<div style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><b>Easy and Nutritious Low Carb Mid Week Meal</b></div></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.2pt;"><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><b><br />
</b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">1 bunch of organic kale</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">4 small white fish (I used tilapia) fillets</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">1/5 pound local smoked bacon (approx.), cut into 1” pieces</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">1 organic garlic clove, sliced thin</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">salt and pepper to taste</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">paprika</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">preserved organic lemon slivers</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">Wash the kale and remove leaf from the central spine. Compost the spine or feed it to your goats. Brown the bacon pieces in a Dutch oven, then remove and reserve. Add the torn kale leaves and sliced garlic clove to the bacon fat to saute. Toss until wilted. Cover the pot, checking often for moisture, until the kale is tender (add water if needed). When the kale is tender, add some water to the pot, then lay the tilapia fillets on top of the kale. Cover the pot, and poach the tilapia until it’s tender. Serve two fillets on a bed of kale, garnished with slivered preserved lemon and crumbled bacon. <span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19.2pt;">Serves 2</span></div></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.2pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.2pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"> <i>Here's a healthy recipe that worked well for our dinner this week. The tomatoes were from a greenhouse, of course, but given the season, I think it's a pretty healthy alternative to many other options.</i></span></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.2pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.2pt;"><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><b><u>Healthy Stuffed Tomatoes (with optional shrimp)</u></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">4 tomatoes, hollowed out, with flesh and juices reserved</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">¼ pound of cleaned and cooked shrimp</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">½ cup chopped onions</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">butter</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">about ½ cup red quinoa</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">1 large clove of garlic, minced</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">red pepper flakes or chopped jalapeno to taste</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">garlic salt</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">black pepper</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">water</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">1-2 slices of multi-grain bread, crumbled and toasted</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">cheddar cheese</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">Saute the chopped onions in a generous amount of butter, then add the chopped tomato flesh and juice to the pan. To the bubbling mixture, add minced garlic, garlic salt, thyme, and pepper. For added kick, add chopped jalapenos or dried red chili pepper. When the tomatoes have released their juices, add a handful of red quinoa to the bubbling pan and cook until the quinoa is tender. Add a small amount of water if necessary. When the quinoa is tender, add the chopped shrimp (optional) and cook for five minutes, then add multi-grain breadcrumbs (from a slice or two of toasted bread) to thicken the mixture. Stuff the raw tomato cups with the cooked mixture, then top with cheddar cheese. Broil until brown, and serve.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">Makes 4 servings</div></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.2pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><u>Best Wild Mushroom Casseroles</u></b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Wild mushrooms (I used frozen bearded tooth and entoloma abortivum)</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Onion</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Garlic clove</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Peas</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Cream</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Flour</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Butter</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Multi-grain breadcrumbs from sliced bread</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Tarragon</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Garlic Salt and Pepper</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Melt some butter in a Dutch oven or a cast iron frying pan, then add a chopped onion. Saute until the onion is clear, then add the mushrooms (I used about 1.5 cups total, rough-chopped). Continue to cook until the mushrooms release their juices, then add the clove of garlic, sliced thin. Cook until the juices are cooked away and the mushrooms and onion just begin to brown; them sprinkle with a tablespoon of flour and about ½ tsp. tarragon. Add about a cup of cream to the pot and stir over a low heat until the sauce thickens. Add peas and toss gently into the mixture. Season with garlic salt and pepper to taste. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Melt some butter and mix it in with the breadcrumbs. Make enough to cover each of the ramekins. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Spoon the thickened mixture into individual ramekins, then top with the breadcrumb mixture. Bake at 425 degrees until the breadcrumbs are brown and the filling is bubbling. Cool slightly before eating.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">*Optional: Add some tender chicken, shrimp, scallops or beef strips to the pan with the mushrooms, and saute until finished before proceeding with the recipe.</span></div><!--EndFragment--></div>S.Eckerthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03630951405869168215noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5971777858969029406.post-84941342304407656432012-03-05T18:18:00.003-05:002012-03-05T20:16:44.995-05:00Where's Waldo, Ummm...Sandy?My big plans this week focused on one thing: I got to co-present a session at the National Art Education Association in NYC on Friday! So of course I spent last weekend (the one prior to 3/3 and 3/4) planning, buying my outfit, arranging an outing with a friend, etc. Exciting! YAY! Something positive!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS6J5EoAe8o5dpxVqdI5gEDKjnEyejouEWPFfjyrvnLhIh-scV-KBoCNJ1dvoG1KS4cBBTdKhz1XkT-U1VNNtO3cqZuZRsLYgLGxXQ3VH36HKofz7tZp6zoSKdbfVKJBtz77Pd0rVS4hw7/s1600/2764979_orig.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="190" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS6J5EoAe8o5dpxVqdI5gEDKjnEyejouEWPFfjyrvnLhIh-scV-KBoCNJ1dvoG1KS4cBBTdKhz1XkT-U1VNNtO3cqZuZRsLYgLGxXQ3VH36HKofz7tZp6zoSKdbfVKJBtz77Pd0rVS4hw7/s320/2764979_orig.png" width="320" /></a></div><br />
On the home front, Peter, ever the procrastinator, hadn't packed for his trip to Michigan, and had several small projects on the burner, so I essentially fed him and stayed out of his way. Unfortunately, on Wednesday morning after I left for school, he had a sudden health issue that he left unexamined until I came home and INSISTED that he go to the ER. I'd rather not discuss it (if you know him or me personally, just pick up a phone or email), but the result was a 3 day stay in the hospital while they ran tests. After the first few hours, they knew he wasn't in danger, so it was a matter of figuring out the "whys"; still, I was uncomfortable leaving him. I took off a half day of work on Thursday morning to hear what his doctor had to say, then worked the afternoon. The next day was my NYC trip, and since he wasn't in any further danger (and the rest of my research group was counting on me) I decided to go. <br />
<br />
It was awesome. Everything went smoothly and my friend and I ate a brief Thai meal (my favorite!) before we headed home...to find Peter in the living room, packing! He still wanted to go! We "debated" the idea, finally settling on a compromise: he felt well enough to follow through on his plans, but I was too worried to say goodbye just yet...so I went along. That's right. I drove to Michigan this weekend. And I flew home alone last evening. And I taught today. And tonight, I'm clearing everything out of my living room so the contractor can fix the ceiling. Whew!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTOUULWq4S3mnLpTLbtsthHHMEIprnTe2D43hE2_v-GfUob2hNcLHpru7MbCSzD8N0myOE3uMecHslvkqb_q-OtCEFUDw4FCD26xA149SrC6nlIDYCHgtWg7uDVSjfd88AHufZv1RHhPww/s1600/My+Weekend.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTOUULWq4S3mnLpTLbtsthHHMEIprnTe2D43hE2_v-GfUob2hNcLHpru7MbCSzD8N0myOE3uMecHslvkqb_q-OtCEFUDw4FCD26xA149SrC6nlIDYCHgtWg7uDVSjfd88AHufZv1RHhPww/s400/My+Weekend.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A Restful Weekend.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Am I happy about leaving him there? No. There's a point at which you have to admit another person's right to their autonomy and put aside your fears, and that's what I was faced with this weekend. And you move on the best you can. These long distance jobs do take their toll. Peter enjoys the variety though, and I can understand why: the people he meets on his journeys are amazing! He's been having the most awesome multi-cultural experience of his already interesting life. I actually envy him that. <br />
<br />
So, back to my trip; from home to NYC, then home again for a night; then across the state to Youngstown Ohio, where we had dinner at a truck stop and met some of the nicest truckers you've ever known. The stories they have to tell! It was a very interesting supper. One trucker named Steve told me he'd been driving since he was 20 years old, and was just about to turn 60. Imagine the places he's seen! He was a well-worn character who couldn't have weighed much more than 120 pounds, and had a face lined with stories. He was a truck-driving pirate, the Captain Edward Teague of the Hubbard Truck Stop.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoj73oPC1Y6uWnJbG3B_IPlzYTjnsI_HPPvJMzis9iDvUPEoO0KYZIaaahCuR_kVirDrPNjVbfwHXitRhYug-Mb4fVO6pBcuy9HqMX1ehzr1MJpa9VcLdZvumhH8_JW3qBatHKnU26r4S9/s1600/2012-03-03_20-11-00_197.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoj73oPC1Y6uWnJbG3B_IPlzYTjnsI_HPPvJMzis9iDvUPEoO0KYZIaaahCuR_kVirDrPNjVbfwHXitRhYug-Mb4fVO6pBcuy9HqMX1ehzr1MJpa9VcLdZvumhH8_JW3qBatHKnU26r4S9/s320/2012-03-03_20-11-00_197.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just Squint. It'll Come Into Focus.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
After a night's rest, we squeezed our generous selves into our little car and drove the last four hours of our trip into Ann Arbor, MI. We encountered a few flurries on the way, but nothing more, luckily, as we were working with a tight time budget. We met Peter's new roommates (he'll be eating food from India and Africa during this job, I think. The house smelled wonderful!), and were left alone to unpack the little he had with him. I'll ship the rest to him tomorrow. Then we cried for a few minutes and in no time at all the shuttle driver was there to take me to the Detroit airport.<br />
<br />
Detroit to Philly, Philly to Allentown...with all of the required waiting between flights and a taxi ride at the end, and I slept in my bed last night. Alone. <sigh></sigh><br />
<br />
So, we put the tears behind us, and each of us embraces our separate reality, with hope and joy. We savor our lives. We both do. It's just so much nicer when we're together. And of course, I want to mother him...but I can't, so I consciously disengage my mind from those thoughts, and live in the present. With faith in the divine wisdom of the universe, and all that she holds.<br />
<br />
What happened here at home while we were away? Well, we have two angry kitty-cats, though they had ample grub for the two days we were gone. Grandpa just slept through it, but he was happy to have his head scratched. And on the farm, this is what happened:<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM4R7A1RbFSpfjyzkujLQB3adLNRJjvd8mY33uAMOcT0A9gfn2rhZ_a6DMuw45IjXkAaiDRpSrQAV6AzrjbcLYWb4GJp3C4tjBeaRRdOR4EIs3EhJkwhCvDvLTpT6b_Jjfd17k4Ps_Z1dS/s1600/dawn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM4R7A1RbFSpfjyzkujLQB3adLNRJjvd8mY33uAMOcT0A9gfn2rhZ_a6DMuw45IjXkAaiDRpSrQAV6AzrjbcLYWb4GJp3C4tjBeaRRdOR4EIs3EhJkwhCvDvLTpT6b_Jjfd17k4Ps_Z1dS/s1600/dawn.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Corrine's Picture of Dawn: Born Yesterday.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>My "Words With Friends" buddy said it well: "Things change quickly". For both the better and worse. It's up to us to enjoy the ride.S.Eckerthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03630951405869168215noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5971777858969029406.post-39641583213282284182012-03-05T12:09:00.001-05:002012-03-05T19:31:39.415-05:00Where Are You, Maaaa?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEius6uu9hPoJEkhWve6GZvXnLOdDJ9WT9DKnmtgpWdYkRyrg6Rfp0IgYpbbTTVU_WA9Y_WuYTTH1qIQZy2TiaL0lBXwEh_pbkfTXeEKt1C9bou8VxVsP-kHjvAaH2fWOh_C8Zp-HuLwGN2f/s1600/get-attachment.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEius6uu9hPoJEkhWve6GZvXnLOdDJ9WT9DKnmtgpWdYkRyrg6Rfp0IgYpbbTTVU_WA9Y_WuYTTH1qIQZy2TiaL0lBXwEh_pbkfTXeEKt1C9bou8VxVsP-kHjvAaH2fWOh_C8Zp-HuLwGN2f/s640/get-attachment.jpeg" width="488" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Maaaaa! Where are you Maaaaa?<br />
Photo by Kathy<br />
at <a href="http://www.flinthillfarm.org/">Flint Hill Farm</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;">That was the question this weekend. And I'll answer it this evening!</div>S.Eckerthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03630951405869168215noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5971777858969029406.post-38737236879575739342012-02-27T17:24:00.001-05:002012-02-27T17:37:15.434-05:00Welcome Grandpa!<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi93VmsfQ9uro08LBzgdaXgf_C0TKZTX8JCDTm0FQSXbw5cVcfeMadXnF3y4Qc-PjUjpwbSRLwQydQU7s82WL-62Ct-psEgjZFCIeeNuLMxJG7FPlO8VZTsvqhxYbeH-spuqbKBwx_7bG2W/s1600/Grandpa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi93VmsfQ9uro08LBzgdaXgf_C0TKZTX8JCDTm0FQSXbw5cVcfeMadXnF3y4Qc-PjUjpwbSRLwQydQU7s82WL-62Ct-psEgjZFCIeeNuLMxJG7FPlO8VZTsvqhxYbeH-spuqbKBwx_7bG2W/s320/Grandpa.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cochise</td></tr>
</tbody></table>We have a new member of the family. New for us, anyway! This poor old man was being ridden by a 4 year old, who pulled his tail when he ate or drank and generally made life hell for him. Luckily, her mother finally had the sense to attempt to rehome him, but not until he was a dehydrated bag of ancient (18 years old) cat bones. He has a quiet place to sleep away his geriatric hours now, with plenty of wet food and gentle touches that make him purr. <br />
<br />
How forgiving our animals are of our cruelty, and how loving they are; they forget the pain and beg for affection. This poor boy was born in a basement in Manhattan, where he was found, half starved, eating cardboard after being locked in there alone. He was rescued and sent to an animal control facility, where some kind soul took him in; they named him "Roach" because of the way he skittered along the walls, hiding from them (we chose a name that rhymes, sort-of. I hate the name they gave him.) The poor guy spent several years as an apartment cat in the city, then moved here to Allentown, where he spent his adulthood with his lady and her grown children; not such a bad gig. A second marriage brought a second family and the aforementioned 4 year old; unfortunately, in his frail state, I'm sure he found it difficult to escape her. He's our second Freecycle cat; Hobie, who came to us several years ago, still lives with us, as does his adopted brother, Gris-Gris (SPCA). They look like a couple of Sumo wrestlers next to Grandpa, who only weighs 6 pounds. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTvAMNgIAOdoq6AhAt6nehcq7SNbhyAM3aIMOsiTLAMsDOax7o2fb-KsIjNVvObA0IxcjsAjtA827tM9PnRyCCwsyRCMV6S_kOpkBO9E4ruINj8YUFSvOvEAWK5qtRgwghesJa3eymeISS/s1600/P_010210+B.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTvAMNgIAOdoq6AhAt6nehcq7SNbhyAM3aIMOsiTLAMsDOax7o2fb-KsIjNVvObA0IxcjsAjtA827tM9PnRyCCwsyRCMV6S_kOpkBO9E4ruINj8YUFSvOvEAWK5qtRgwghesJa3eymeISS/s320/P_010210+B.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gris</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
After a checkup with our family vet and a can of wet food, Grandpa is sleeping soundly upstairs in our sunroom, where we'll keep him safe from harm. He can dream his days away, for as long as he has them; this poor old man has found his safe haven at the Eckert-Bourdelle house of geriatric cats. He deserves a break, and we're seeing to it that he gets one. He reminds me so much of my old girl Buppy, who lived to the ripe old age of 21. In peace. I sure do miss her.S.Eckerthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03630951405869168215noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5971777858969029406.post-43433121767960141232012-02-24T10:38:00.001-05:002012-02-24T12:41:18.583-05:00Installation #4: Independence (Fri) Day<span style="font-family: inherit;">I've been busy. In a good way. And Peter will be home for another week! Bonus!</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSAT4L7mHC_iogZ0pRIFHnGLjwhyphenhyphen9na7KfRlxbvkr3UgyKzlMiocysquvjpcp-XVdCwMIaxW4V4ucH-pY0ZjHJLY71OWraeNJ_5FgESe2i19ypxGcfmLueU1tTSdqm-iUm-Sh4ScGYUO4x/s1600/Peter_in_NYC.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSAT4L7mHC_iogZ0pRIFHnGLjwhyphenhyphen9na7KfRlxbvkr3UgyKzlMiocysquvjpcp-XVdCwMIaxW4V4ucH-pY0ZjHJLY71OWraeNJ_5FgESe2i19ypxGcfmLueU1tTSdqm-iUm-Sh4ScGYUO4x/s320/Peter_in_NYC.jpg" width="274" /></a></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Plant something:<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>This week, I took the time to start a few small pots of pea seeds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve been lusting after pea sprouts lately, as I often do this time of year, and decided to get a head start on the season.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The pots I planted them in were made from recycled newspaper tubes; there are lots of online tutorials, so I combined a few of them to achieve the results I wanted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Basically, my tubes went like this:<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><br />
<div class="ListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: Arial;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">1.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span></span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Tear a single side of newspaper in half. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><br />
<div class="ListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: Arial;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">2.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span></span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Fold it in half.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><br />
<div class="ListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: Arial;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">3.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span></span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Wrap the folded sheet around a piece of 2”pvc pipe with the raw edges extending below the opening of the pipe.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><br />
<div class="ListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: Arial;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">4.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span></span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Tuck the raw ends up into the pipe, then wiggle the opt off of the PVC pipe.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><br />
<div class="ListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: Arial;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">5.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span></span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Staple the top edge of the pot together<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><br />
<div class="ListParagraphCxSpLast" style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: Arial;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">6.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span></span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Tamp down the bottom of the pot with something flat.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilhnGtyt9z3b2kBxuCzQh0RFisC-cCpRaJ-ybqSwA4L2MebKzN1v0LXG_lQOgZVLm4QBd42H-E2DgGcbk7U0ZqlGgcLCtamArbxdNWKfAIymicwSWdoEpZn4y19KAVi-1oY0Ug3Rdi-DDE/s1600/2012-02-24_10.25.09.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilhnGtyt9z3b2kBxuCzQh0RFisC-cCpRaJ-ybqSwA4L2MebKzN1v0LXG_lQOgZVLm4QBd42H-E2DgGcbk7U0ZqlGgcLCtamArbxdNWKfAIymicwSWdoEpZn4y19KAVi-1oY0Ug3Rdi-DDE/s320/2012-02-24_10.25.09.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Peas, etc.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></o:p></span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Harvest something:<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>You know, it’s pretty tough to actually harvest from an urban yard in the winter (though I hope to harvest those pea sprouts soon!).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have a garden plot at <a href="http://www.flinthillfarm.org/">Flint Hill Farm</a>, but that’s not available to me in cold weather, and my home garden is about the size of a Volkswagen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I did harvest a gallon of yummy kombucha tea, and I made a new quart of elderberry tonic (which I’ll harvest in 6 weeks).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Otherwise, apart from the good vegetables I’ve been using from my freezer all week, and the good herbs I have dried and stored in my kitchen, it’s been more of a time of consuming than harvesting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To everything, there is a season, right?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></o:p></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Preserve something: <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I’m still working on preserving my sanity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Seriously.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></o:p></span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Waste not:<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Since Peter’s home, I‘ve had the help I needed to move some heavy pieces of furniture to the second floor in preparation for my mom’s arrival.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This has had the usual cascade effect; we’ve ended up with a rather large pile of homeless items.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Among those items were several things made of metal (a grill, a lamp, a few wire shelf sections).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m a member of our local <a href="http://www.freecycle.org/">Freecycle group</a>, a Yahoo list serve that recycles usable objects among its members.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s a great idea; if you have something extra, you can give it away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you need something, you can request it. Some of the members recycle metal for money, so I posted the metal objects, and they were taken. YAY!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>There was a box of decorative items and pillows too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I took that to the local <a href="http://www.vianet.org/thriftstores/index.shtml">VIA thrift store</a>, where it will be sold inexpensively and the proceeds will benefit children with disabilities.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Win/win!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I buy lots of my clothes there as well.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Want Not:<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I think this is the best place to comment on the now-slightly dwindling supply of frozen natural goodies that I put aside last fall. I have had a successful winter of wholesome food, thanks to my garden and my foraging in warmer times, which truly floats my boat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can literally “shop the freezer”, and create a gourmet meal with just a few added pantry items.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s an awesome feeling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As the frozen vegetables are getting used, I’m replacing them with local, humanely raised meats and individually portioned meals for my school lunches.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I sense the beginning of a seasonal rhythm, which is a great feeling to me.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><o:p> I did manage a quick look at a few of my old-faithful oyster mushroom trees during the past few days, but the nights have been too cold to promote growth. In a week or two, if we're lucky, they'll be bursting with sumptuous spring oysters. Yum!</o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Eat the Food:<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>A day or two before Peter returned home from his cross-country trek (he was returning to Pennsylvania from Los Angeles, CA), I thawed out a chicken that had been deep in the freezer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had a nice, comforting roast chicken dinner in mind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Circumstances being what they were, that dinner never happened, though I did roast the bird in order to preserve the now-thawed meat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>From it, we had chicken breast with ginger and scallion dipping sauce, chicken noodle soup with local veggies, hot open-faced chicken and mushroom sandwiches with cranberry sauce, and chicken salad (still to be made).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s a lot of mileage for one little chicken!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUvyGNAHH90p3yM2hD0aFMVIgalnjQXJkM0fM7gkX7dazQl35_q2shc3RjJrAZ4eL8m9-Uk5L_hMSBQkZ1b4oa30O8bk2g3znMZiIEq_z1H4iIHj81eNdlVfmhyphenhyphenIC6I2xuedPTFmhRqouz/s1600/P1170108.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUvyGNAHH90p3yM2hD0aFMVIgalnjQXJkM0fM7gkX7dazQl35_q2shc3RjJrAZ4eL8m9-Uk5L_hMSBQkZ1b4oa30O8bk2g3znMZiIEq_z1H4iIHj81eNdlVfmhyphenhyphenIC6I2xuedPTFmhRqouz/s320/P1170108.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Soup...</td></tr>
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Build community food systems:<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I’ll be attending a board meeting at Flint Hill Farm tomorrow evening, where we will discuss fund-raisers to support the farm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As a non-profit organization, fundraising is a never-ending process.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I thoroughly believe in the mission of the place as both an agricultural education center and a working artisanal dairy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The goats are nearly ready to kid (I’ll be on call to help with the deliveries, which should be starting in March), and we’ll be in milk again soon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the past, I was a regular milker, though I’m not sure that I’m up to that anymore, since my hand surgery last November, but I’m sure there will be plenty of work for me once the kids arrive.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Last year, we had four bottle babies in my living room at one point; it was WONDERFUL!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhma1RuQn6amybky3JBOyeMVogp6d4hu4M6-XEe_Vu3KchSlO86kXdoY4JUuw9G7owdznnwkR2QlneU-HfO7fj3R_oCJMWPQ8WUeU_4ldc2xI8SzoQJ0sUX0AE75CuahCNyRnhy-7l7kUtR/s1600/GEDC0647.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhma1RuQn6amybky3JBOyeMVogp6d4hu4M6-XEe_Vu3KchSlO86kXdoY4JUuw9G7owdznnwkR2QlneU-HfO7fj3R_oCJMWPQ8WUeU_4ldc2xI8SzoQJ0sUX0AE75CuahCNyRnhy-7l7kUtR/s320/GEDC0647.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Diapers</td></tr>
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Skill up: <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I’ve been on the lookout for the lightly colored, skeletal<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>remains of <a href="http://www.motherearthnews.com/real-food/wild-asparagus-zmaz76mazhar.aspx">wild asparagus plants</a>, which I explored online during the week.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve been adding lots of wild things to my foraging arsenal in the last year or two.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some wild foods have been a part of my repertoire since I was a child, but others are new finds that I’ve made thanks to the resources on the web.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How did we ever survive without it! </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span></span></div>S.Eckerthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03630951405869168215noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5971777858969029406.post-5335546527981096552012-02-18T09:20:00.001-05:002012-02-24T12:41:48.038-05:00Independence Day Update #3<span style="font-family: Arial;">I wrote this a few days ago, and forgot about it. That's how my life is going these days. An update will follow...</span><br />
<br />
<div style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><span style="font-family: Arial;">Plant something: </span></div><div style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><o:p> I did it, and I'm loving the tiny green nodules of life: mesclun,carrots (two varieties), and green onions, all perking their tiny nodding heads above the soil that was still a week ago. And once again, as always in February, I'm inspired to put seed to earth and get 'er growing, far before it's feasable. </o:p></span></div><div style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><o:p> How incongruous it is, that life goes on...</o:p></span></div><br />
<div style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Harvest something: </span></div><div style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"> White pine for tea and balsamic vinegar. You absolutely must explore the benefits of pine needles. I never knew how rich they are in vitamin C...everyhting we need is in our environment, if only we'd listen.</span></div><br />
<div style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Preserve something: </span></div><div style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"> I'm working on preserving my sanity this week. That's all I've got. Peter's traveling cross country, mom's moving in, my room's being changed at school. and an old friend has resurfaced and needs me. That's plenty. Besides, my freezer is full, and spring is on the way, I'm fatter than I've ever been, and food isn't as important as other aspects of life right now. Really. I'm lucky, I know. But I still need my sanity.</span></div><br />
<div style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Waste not: </span></div><div style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"> I'm having trouble with this one this week. I have been taking my school-day meals from the freezer: leftovers in lunch-sized portions, breakfast stratas from stale bread and frozen treasures. Those things do utilize the great organic foods I have preserved in my freezer...essentially for free, since many are foraged. But here's the main issue: my personal green-shabby-chic, wabi-sabi aesthetic has been dissed by my one and only, all psychically powerful mother. I'm 54, and still filled with adolescent angst. I want to make her happy, so the things I've chosen will have to go...and that's ok. What to do with my sweet, colorful, gyspy furniture?</span></div><br />
<div style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Want Not: </span></div><div style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><o:p> I gave away the last of my awesome home remedy, elderberry tonic. My friend was in need. I hope she actually used it, as it's gold to me (those elderberries were scarce last year). At any rate, I pulled my last bag of them from the freezer and added some elderberry flower, honey, and gin to the mix, for a new batch of tonic. That'll have to hold me until I can harvest again, in the summer. I hope we have a better year.</o:p></span></div><br />
<div style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Eat the Food: </span></div><div style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"> My stockpile of frozen and dried wild mushrooms is neverending this year. If you're local, let me know. I have enough for everyone.</span></div><br />
<div style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Build community food systems: </span></div><div style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"> I was a slacker here this week. I did share a home made ham, cabbage and noodle dinner with friends last weekend, but I've been so busy and insulated lately that I haven't really interacted with people much this week. I bought seeds for my community garden plot, though. Does that count? </span></div><br />
<div style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Skill up: </span></div><div style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"> Hmmm...does intergenerational communication remediation work here? If so, I'm golden...</span></div>S.Eckerthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03630951405869168215noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5971777858969029406.post-87136632835642314352012-02-14T18:32:00.000-05:002012-02-14T18:32:22.672-05:00He's in Oklahoma...<div style="text-align: center;">And homeward bound. Happy Valentines Day / Happy Anniversary, Pierre!</div><div style="text-align: center;">Safe journey home!</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgefw3rxUZii8rEtFVt2L8IC8V0ucKM_7OqhI9UzeMMmjZDEmqhEkThHXx90XcO0TrFMkTh_aiQltRyCcNMoR6n1FW0zGPFXUbEvEfvlWbxT6Wud_kxfGDVgi3wPrHoku2_h2vlFeyDx4ud/s1600/417143_229579210468959_100002506443700_475561_1941050385_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgefw3rxUZii8rEtFVt2L8IC8V0ucKM_7OqhI9UzeMMmjZDEmqhEkThHXx90XcO0TrFMkTh_aiQltRyCcNMoR6n1FW0zGPFXUbEvEfvlWbxT6Wud_kxfGDVgi3wPrHoku2_h2vlFeyDx4ud/s320/417143_229579210468959_100002506443700_475561_1941050385_n.jpg" width="185" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjT4zHRI0BbjJiS0o5FeJyFLUKvJRYf4Ji4GL3Icz78FS_NSD_X16vVktvTixgLeCWQjzErU30a3X9R8oy1kIm2tcVxdbKOd-BSG9ZKJ1wy2XFdHSUPEuSOp6-snp3774rr-Gnl0lqW02q/s1600/421032_230178210409059_100002506443700_477579_596696398_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjT4zHRI0BbjJiS0o5FeJyFLUKvJRYf4Ji4GL3Icz78FS_NSD_X16vVktvTixgLeCWQjzErU30a3X9R8oy1kIm2tcVxdbKOd-BSG9ZKJ1wy2XFdHSUPEuSOp6-snp3774rr-Gnl0lqW02q/s320/421032_230178210409059_100002506443700_477579_596696398_n.jpg" width="301" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNCbKNwfE2ZmFFQf7Z7FYO8KeRbzGIwOd0cXd7mpJMXfiQjF9FGEjfVMZrr-JoCpgK1XQsmsML9NN6w4gyAGGAHiyawkYg54QlfXXRGgFNkGpuCqjN9b3lwd9fntbARXA2F6fBgKZqyDQo/s1600/424894_229127510514129_100002506443700_474493_1385776435_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNCbKNwfE2ZmFFQf7Z7FYO8KeRbzGIwOd0cXd7mpJMXfiQjF9FGEjfVMZrr-JoCpgK1XQsmsML9NN6w4gyAGGAHiyawkYg54QlfXXRGgFNkGpuCqjN9b3lwd9fntbARXA2F6fBgKZqyDQo/s320/424894_229127510514129_100002506443700_474493_1385776435_n.jpg" width="227" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">(Valentines borrowed from AngelBaby Shelby, on Facebook. Thanks, AB!)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>S.Eckerthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03630951405869168215noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5971777858969029406.post-33137315298538993032012-02-12T10:23:00.000-05:002012-02-12T10:23:26.878-05:00Just a Quick UpdateOver the past few months, things have changed a bit on the home front.<br />
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Starting in late August, Peter began traveling for work. In this economy, it's almost impossible for an older person to find full time professional work; even with a practical career like his (he's a mechanical engineer with a biomedical focus), Peter was striking out until he decided to begin looking at the short-term, remote jobs his head-hunters were sending him. This style of work agrees with him; he enjoys the variety and the travel. To date, his jobs have taken him to Dallas, LA, and now Ann Arbor, Michigan. I've seen him a few times since then, but his brief stays at home aren't the same as our previous team approach used to be. It's an adjustment for us both. I'm expecting him home in a day or two (hurray!) before he begins the Michigan job. I look forward to curling up around him, and falling asleep feeling his warmth again. There's nothing more comforting to me. Except foot rubs. Love those foot rubs.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyr3Lz8VdDcHQDQBzW98iZjuUZjNDQH3okFRw6DNYNMCrt6MPPQFgdKhF8Va0IJnBBZr2UHCti7wVQNsvJzqpuwyucMrKYHhDhmdWWN2WHgyi5ug2neNRzQX_l5L8sZ_VJbySIw9K2MUUX/s1600/386242_2660854515642_1084309455_32420389_1072941630_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyr3Lz8VdDcHQDQBzW98iZjuUZjNDQH3okFRw6DNYNMCrt6MPPQFgdKhF8Va0IJnBBZr2UHCti7wVQNsvJzqpuwyucMrKYHhDhmdWWN2WHgyi5ug2neNRzQX_l5L8sZ_VJbySIw9K2MUUX/s320/386242_2660854515642_1084309455_32420389_1072941630_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br />
It's been an awakening, in many ways. While I'm perfectly capable of living a solitary life, I'm reminded of why I searched for him in the first place. It's awfully nice to have someone to share things with on a daily basis (both the good and bad). Someone like him.<br />
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The week before Thanksgiving, I had a much needed joint replacement in the base of my right thumb. This rendered me left-handed (not my usual dominant hand) for a few months. It was impossible to lift heavy objects, do buttons, put on certain clothes items, open cans; you get the drift. And teaching art was interesting; I believe it made me more sensitive to the challenges faced by beginning artists. Using my left hand instead of my right to draw, paint, and sculpt put us all on a level playing field in terms of skills. It was good for me to feel that again. I managed to get through those months, and have emerged one small bone lighter, and immensely more comfortable than I was just a few months ago. My thumb joint was so deteriorated that it had been giving me constant pain. That's gone now, and I'm ready for spring kidding season at the farm. Just in the nick of time, as the does are scheduled to drop their kids in about 2 weeks. I LOVE this time of year!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil8Ndkv4-7p-TTig-p5DjYsqX6aXOWpFWbTpuIt4vH83hfxaipYGM0RaJs7r4Ey2PLZH1Qqr7SBdNV2zSaQrGLtTXogcnUA7gqdDxpQqnw48AbUE5RyFESHoFpuh52qnjDQZwLTc0DzVOG/s1600/183882_1725525973013_1084309455_31663219_3337161_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil8Ndkv4-7p-TTig-p5DjYsqX6aXOWpFWbTpuIt4vH83hfxaipYGM0RaJs7r4Ey2PLZH1Qqr7SBdNV2zSaQrGLtTXogcnUA7gqdDxpQqnw48AbUE5RyFESHoFpuh52qnjDQZwLTc0DzVOG/s320/183882_1725525973013_1084309455_31663219_3337161_n.jpg" width="211" /></a></div><br />
My mother, who is 85, has accepted my invitation to come and live with us. To make our little home more functional for her, I had a full bathroom built on the first floor. The construction took about two weeks, which happened right at the end of the first semester, and into the first day or two of the second semester. Life was chaos for awhile, but it paid off: the bathroom is beautiful. I want to live in it. Just around that time, my administrator let me know that I'll be moving to a different classroom next year, which means boxing and moving17 years worth of art materials and examples. It also means losing a grant I won to develop the outdoor area by my current classroom. We have lost one art position because of retirement; I won't go on about all of this, as it contradicts my self-imposed ban of blogging about school, but you can imagine the consternation this is causing me when compounded by the disturbances on the home front. (Just these few sentences have made my heart pound). I've actually considered seeking a counselor to get me over this bump.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Goats make good counselors. They're good listeners.</td></tr>
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I try to turn my thoughts to the spring when I'm feeling helpless. I've purchased several packets of seeds, and hope to start some carrots and lettuces today. There's nothing like a tender, newly growing vegetable to give you hope for the future; that is, nothing except a tender, newly born goat kid! And they'll be coming soon. I'm holding on to that thought.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_1gN_wqy_e6pR4fVI6AgCMxJDwfabVUtzDLbRGoy7Q4bOgPNBtL89_Ijy945cWlDtkJPgxVPEzSLWxmkgO1yWcJ89QccPCcbCe0QY8i15dkIEH7Ccw_Fd2uJh7HqhS5_UhLPRk9OsoIVv/s1600/22036_1282343173720_1084309455_30776775_6784701_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_1gN_wqy_e6pR4fVI6AgCMxJDwfabVUtzDLbRGoy7Q4bOgPNBtL89_Ijy945cWlDtkJPgxVPEzSLWxmkgO1yWcJ89QccPCcbCe0QY8i15dkIEH7Ccw_Fd2uJh7HqhS5_UhLPRk9OsoIVv/s320/22036_1282343173720_1084309455_30776775_6784701_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lettuce give thanks for Spring.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And so, we move on. Some things change, and some stay the same. It's a dance, this life I'm living. The tempo has changed slightly, but I'll pick up the beat. It's just a matter of time.</div>S.Eckerthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03630951405869168215noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5971777858969029406.post-64155807666690674112012-02-09T22:15:00.002-05:002012-02-09T22:36:54.225-05:00Independence Days #2 (February 9th, 2012)<div style="background-color: white;"><div style="line-height: 19.2pt;"></div><div style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="line-height: 25px;"><b>Please head on over to <a href="http://sharonastyk.com/2012/02/01/independence-days-challenge-is-back/">The Chatelaine's Keys</a> to see a full description of this project! </b></span></span><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="line-height: 25px;"><b>Here's my weekly update! </b></span></span></div><div style="line-height: 19.2pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"></span><span style="font-family: Arial;"><strong>Plant something: <o:p></o:p></strong></span></span></div><div style="line-height: 19.2pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><strong> </strong>Well, I didn't ACTUALLY plant anything, but I did buy some carrot seeds and seed starter. I've been fighting a cold this week, and although I didn't miss any work days, I slept a great deal more than usual because that's what my body needed. I'm learning to listen to those subtle internal signals more clearly these days, and I believe my health is benefitting from it.</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 19.2pt;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3w2_LB9-mrhUllkM6XhrlskmMRiL5OdT4_IGZpq208mbKHkCDl4VKkCfmsxAwdMnEHLbSJ0n00751JS52hqsgeAzqso_dKlHrRr21CorEXKDv8oR_UwhItgXfa9sqzIy2hatsswdEDzWT/s1600/P8290008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3w2_LB9-mrhUllkM6XhrlskmMRiL5OdT4_IGZpq208mbKHkCDl4VKkCfmsxAwdMnEHLbSJ0n00751JS52hqsgeAzqso_dKlHrRr21CorEXKDv8oR_UwhItgXfa9sqzIy2hatsswdEDzWT/s320/P8290008.JPG" width="170" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She Carrot</td></tr>
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</span></span><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><strong>Harvest something: <o:p></o:p></strong></span></span></div></div><div style="background-color: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"> I have a non-gardening harvest story for this week. Here goes:</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Do you remember your first steps? The strong hands helping you, and the clumsy placement of your soft little feet in those big, clumsy shoes; first lift, then lurch forward, plant the foot and find your balance. Arms up, your hand firmly planted in a bigger, stronger one. Always safe in your mother’s care, the first few steps were a celebration! An occasion! Smile inducing, worthy of kisses!</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinnVLmvroyd3ISazdVTuj8PmfZ4QVVK5XdFbUqfxDXk8k1mwpf29_guGbBQ0pO514meMU5XGuZgB2C3pwc9n8YhQ5yR88I4ovtPKuEA5gYYGHfSxxxKggpsqVCDt6I-z3-5nNoi3JvWGZa/s1600/3++baby+foot.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinnVLmvroyd3ISazdVTuj8PmfZ4QVVK5XdFbUqfxDXk8k1mwpf29_guGbBQ0pO514meMU5XGuZgB2C3pwc9n8YhQ5yR88I4ovtPKuEA5gYYGHfSxxxKggpsqVCDt6I-z3-5nNoi3JvWGZa/s320/3++baby+foot.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://cute-pictures.blogspot.com/">Cute Pictures</a><br />
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</tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> I thought about those steps yesterday as I helped my mother down the porch stairs; place a foot, hold on tight, move the other foot and release the knee, take a breath and drop…all while holding on tight, safe in her daughter’s care.</span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> We plant hope, and harvest compassion. As young children, we have no understanding of the eventual peak and inevitable decline of our physical abilities; just hope and joy, one of the many gifts our mothers give us. I’m grateful for that gift, and grateful I can begin to balance those scales right now, late in my mother’s life; perhaps one day, my daughter will do the same for me. </span><br />
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</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“We are a circle within a circle, with no beginning, and never ending.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> -Rick Hamouris</span></div></div><div style="line-height: 19.2pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><strong> </strong></span></div><div style="line-height: 19.2pt;"></div><div style="background-color: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><strong>Preserve something: </strong></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><strong> </strong>Four weeks ago, I harvested a vinegar mother from a bottle of apple cider vinegar that I bought from a health food store. I was able to buy a gallon of flash pasteurized apple cider from <a href="http://www.freconfarms.com/">Frecon's Orchard</a> in Boyertown; this method still allows the cider to ferment; I used similarly pasteurized cider for my hard cider last fall. This time, I added the mother, and let it turn to a lovely, mild vinegar over the course of the month. The <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mother_of_vinegar">vinegar mother,</a> a mixture of cellulose and beneficial bacteria, digests the natural sugars first, then the resulting alcohol, creating that nice, astringent vinegar flavor; this mother is very similar to the <a href="http://www.foodrenegade.com/how-to-grow-a-kombucha-scoby/">SCOBY</a> used to make my kombucha. I removed the vinegar mother then pasteurized this new, live vinegar myself (140-160 degrees). It's waiting for me to cook with it now! I put the mother into a jar of old red wine; not sure if it will work to make red wine vinegar, but I'm willing to experiment!</span></span><br />
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</span></span><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><strong>Waste not: </strong></span></span></div><div style="background-color: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><o:p><strong> </strong>My fridge is a nightmare. I occasionally have an attack of conscience and try to catch up with the many culinary experiments festering in there. It's not pretty. With this weekly blog entry as incentive, I took a brave look, and found some still-viable organic yogurt, some home made beef broth, a shriveled but edible stalk of celery and the remnants of last week's mushroom bounty. What to do?</o:p></span></span></div><div style="background-color: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="line-height: 19.2pt; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yogurt Cheese and Vegetable Beef Soup</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="background-color: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><o:p> </o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><o:p> I hung the yogurt in a cheesecloth for yogurt-cheese (very tasty, with a consistency like cream cheese), made a strata from the mushrooms and celery (along with a quarter loaf of stale multi-grain bread, a sauteed onion, 4 fresh eggs, raw milk and some shredded cheese) which will be my breakfast this week, and made soup from the beef broth. I added a handfull of sliced brussel sprouts, some frozen local corn, some dehydrated maitake mushrooms and some herbs. Yum. Good bye, convenience food! Momma's got a healthier (and more frugal) plan!</o:p></span></span></div><div style="background-color: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="line-height: 19.2pt; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1BCBPfR4DNhtqKSHYNUd8xV5suX7w9G01O3m0jEz0DVaGP682lV8hPnPlrjpuqI5UJhc40uisAmZy7ZRWQMkM8psCB6CbQVy7wHtDObtSvA1rPGdHB3fRZ5dqZq1SzGYcltCvEgmB-Vqf/s1600/strata.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1BCBPfR4DNhtqKSHYNUd8xV5suX7w9G01O3m0jEz0DVaGP682lV8hPnPlrjpuqI5UJhc40uisAmZy7ZRWQMkM8psCB6CbQVy7wHtDObtSvA1rPGdHB3fRZ5dqZq1SzGYcltCvEgmB-Vqf/s320/strata.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mushroom Strata</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="background-color: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"></div><span style="font-family: Arial; line-height: 19.2pt;"><strong> </strong></span><span style="font-family: Arial; line-height: 19.2pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><strong>Want Not:</strong></span></span><br />
<div style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; line-height: 19.2pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><strong> </strong>Last summer I inoculated two areas of my tiny yard with winecap mushroom spawn. I was able to harvest a few mushrooms from the sites last year, but I'm looking forward to a better harvest this spring. In anticipation, I covered one of the areas with straw. And I had too much...so there's straw all over my teensy urban garden. This week, I started cycling bunches of straw into my well-packed composter to diversify the organic load. Perfect.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial; line-height: 19.2pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"> </span></span></div><span style="font-family: Arial; line-height: 19.2pt;"><strong> </strong></span><br />
<div style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; line-height: 19.2pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><strong>Eat the Food: <o:p></o:p></strong></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial; line-height: 19.2pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><strong> </strong>Monday's meals: Mushroom strata for breakfast and fish chowder for lunch. Both from the freezer. Home fermented and home canned sauerkraut and clean, local sausage for dinner.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial; line-height: 19.2pt;"> Tuesday: Strata again for breakfast; leftover kraut for lunch (the kraut is good for boosting immunity).</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial; line-height: 19.2pt;"> Wednesday: <span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}">I felt good for the first time in a week on Wednesday (was fighting a cold) so I made a nice one-woman date-night dinner. From the freezer: all local...corn, sauteed oyster mushrooms and onions, tomato confit, nasturtium pesto and half of a farm raised delmonico steak. Seasoned the steak with Cajun spices and grilled it in my Foreman grill; cubed one small potato and sauteed it with the mushrooms, tomatoes and a small red onion. Boiled some wonton noodles and tossed them with the confit, pesto, pepper and salt. And...corn. Ahhhh, yes; the pleasures of a garden, foraging, and a freezer. Thursday night is parents' night at school, so I won't be cooking.</span></span><br />
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</span></span></div><div style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; line-height: 19.2pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><strong>Build community food systems: <o:p></o:p></strong></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial; line-height: 19.2pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><strong> </strong>This is a vast diversion from my usual organic and local eating beliefs, but I gave it a try; I'm not sure if I will continue. Our Elementary and Middle Schools use a fundraising technique known as "Market Day". There is an online company from which you order various foods, and a portion of the proceeds go to the school needing the funds. The food is delivered to the school, which is convenient for me, as I teach right on the campus. While the various meats and breadings were suspect (at least to me), I did order some mini-omelets and some individual frozen lasagna rolls. They tasted fine, and are convenient, but I'll have to research where this company sources its food before I order again. I can't stand the idea of inhumanely treated chickens and cows. I'll let you know what I find out. I'm a little nervous about it.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial; line-height: 19.2pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"> On the healthy side, I ordered a bin of local and organic vegetables and foods from my very favorite Buy Fresh, Buy Local food source, <a href="http://www.puresprouts.com/">Pure Sprouts</a>. I love, love, love this service, and order from them whenever I need quality local foods that I haven't grown or foraged myself...although I do love to visit farmers' markets in fair weather! </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial; line-height: 19.2pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"> </span></span></div><span style="font-family: Arial; line-height: 19.2pt;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial; line-height: 19.2pt;"><div style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><strong>Skill up:</strong></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZmuV9BZOT2ALfKxoErudnJPqKs18lwdFVAAd9Fb7KKsf_q-bp_mjWRi6QpBwm-5IijhjBAleqMQo5AZicVc6oljdJNM42dPJqYaZt8UIDTMcGwbZ_jC4-uucniF9KevpwNCMznCvR4JtL/s1600/vinegars.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZmuV9BZOT2ALfKxoErudnJPqKs18lwdFVAAd9Fb7KKsf_q-bp_mjWRi6QpBwm-5IijhjBAleqMQo5AZicVc6oljdJNM42dPJqYaZt8UIDTMcGwbZ_jC4-uucniF9KevpwNCMznCvR4JtL/s320/vinegars.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Balsamic Vinegar, Nasturtium Vinegar, Juniper "Berries"<br />
Rosemary Vinegar and Gin-Soaked Raisins</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><strong> </strong>Susun Weed sent a nice tutorial on using white pine needles and cider vinegar to create balsamic vinegar. Since I have an abundance of both, I'll be giving that a try. I love balsamic vinegar! Here's the<a href="http://wisewomanherbalezine.com/wordpress/2012/02/06/february-6-2012/"> link.</a> This seems to be a year of tonics and fermentations for me; new territory to explore! </span></div></span><br />
<div style="line-height: 19.2pt;"></div></div>S.Eckerthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03630951405869168215noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5971777858969029406.post-19859645413658150542012-02-02T21:04:00.008-05:002012-02-02T21:11:32.681-05:00Independence (Fri) Day (a Few Hours Early)<div style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">Please head on over to <a href="http://sharonastyk.com/2012/02/01/independence-days-challenge-is-back/">The Chatelaine's Keys </a>to see a full description of this project! </span></div><div style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"><br />
</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">Here are our categories: </span></div><div style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial;">Plant something: <o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Harvest something: <o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Preserve something: <o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Waste not: <o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Want Not: <o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Eat the Food: <o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Build community food systems: <o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Skill up: <b style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></b></span></div><div style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"><br />
</div><div style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">Plant something: <o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">I can honestly say that the only seeds I planted this week were the seeds of curiosity in my students’ minds. Hopefully, they’ll flourish! Our ground is frozen one day, then muddy the next right now, though I have been considering starting a cold frame of lettuce since it has been a mild winter here in Pennsylvania. It’s been a busy week; the end of semester one coincided with the end of my new bathroom construction; the new semester started on the last day the workmen were in my home. I look forward to this weekend to reorganize my first floor; my classes are nicely reorganized already! First things first!</span></div><div style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4XMKdvL42RKMV7ElRqSwvjD7KiXVoXKfu8javoaybPw3tWgGZD8pYQHbtXqW75SwNuoJztVXGgITCIpFHXhYzd2bENBGfW60JcjlSGS8wWjhETKiuAYONipMfD9JY1b3oX7dVVHeW_knN/s1600/2012-02-02_11.13.52.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4XMKdvL42RKMV7ElRqSwvjD7KiXVoXKfu8javoaybPw3tWgGZD8pYQHbtXqW75SwNuoJztVXGgITCIpFHXhYzd2bENBGfW60JcjlSGS8wWjhETKiuAYONipMfD9JY1b3oX7dVVHeW_knN/s320/2012-02-02_11.13.52.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Color Theory<br />
<br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table></div><div style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg76Nx-CZEhoo8iqNBcW_L8iMmgiBd0QTb2lwSOH64g5S2QgOAYLXok9oizPD7UUuJFR08m-aQntRHTlJosyU5WxGIT4aC9BjGOviIYS4iHYk6NzjyHzsEUpQe0Njccy0igp96Lmarwbnos/s1600/2012-01-30_17.36.20.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg76Nx-CZEhoo8iqNBcW_L8iMmgiBd0QTb2lwSOH64g5S2QgOAYLXok9oizPD7UUuJFR08m-aQntRHTlJosyU5WxGIT4aC9BjGOviIYS4iHYk6NzjyHzsEUpQe0Njccy0igp96Lmarwbnos/s320/2012-01-30_17.36.20.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bathroom Theory</td></tr>
</tbody></table><b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">Harvest something: <o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">I DID harvest something! The miracle tree in front of my farmer-friend’s house put out a nice bloom of oyster mushrooms! I even had enough to share with a friend or two! Yummy fresh mushrooms in late January…awesome! I was too excited to take a picture, so I pasted in one I took during the summer.</span></div><div style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhqX54lkIxnlVWw9KQBvwPxfwJhJpZXHHm7WE2o5uJiPSRapic9paGenU3OBy_9McV-2FDUw6oEj39Rwx2_FSi-cmQhh5-z5SUn8Li4tLPefY99BodwUrB56S1dy6pcbWIVWgi7t0f0KLe/s1600/GEDC1947.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhqX54lkIxnlVWw9KQBvwPxfwJhJpZXHHm7WE2o5uJiPSRapic9paGenU3OBy_9McV-2FDUw6oEj39Rwx2_FSi-cmQhh5-z5SUn8Li4tLPefY99BodwUrB56S1dy6pcbWIVWgi7t0f0KLe/s320/GEDC1947.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oysters</td></tr>
</tbody></table></div><div style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">Preserve something: <o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">Last weekend, I made a batch of clean and humanely raised beef jerky. I used a pepper flavor that I knew my husband would like (he tells a funny story about how his best experience with steak au poivre made his eardrums burn). I also separated a new kombucha mother from my main one, and put it up in the fridge “in case”, and have set aside a smaller jar of the kombucha to grow a mini-mother. Those gallon jars make too much for me!<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"><br />
</div><div style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">Waste Not: <o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">My picky indoor cats often leave a good portion of their expensive cat food uneaten. I’ve been cycling this out to the poor alley cat who is very happy to clean it up for them! He’s afraid to be petted or come too close, but I’ve made a warm straw bed for him under my glider, and he’s getting regular meals. I’ve made some very good cat friends this way in the past. If he gets friendly enough to handle, I'll do the cat world a favor and neuter him. Maybe he knows that. Maybe that's why he stays out of reach!<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjneJqLhfoiMQ4mZRyarL-pT8zafSb569kk-tut_RSugKDjEfWD9nVZtlonayyHQOXLN99UlXInGFMViPfWltcBh-ibNKJzshCAXafH1EVVlNMNituL_za2Ko3aHBcVlXFCsii0nttrviKG/s1600/smiling+cat1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjneJqLhfoiMQ4mZRyarL-pT8zafSb569kk-tut_RSugKDjEfWD9nVZtlonayyHQOXLN99UlXInGFMViPfWltcBh-ibNKJzshCAXafH1EVVlNMNituL_za2Ko3aHBcVlXFCsii0nttrviKG/s320/smiling+cat1.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hobie</td></tr>
</tbody></table></div><div style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">Want Not: <o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">Two days ago, I felt myself coming down with the beginnings of a nasty winter cold. My previous summer stockpiling paid off nicely. I’ve always been interested in both herbs and foraging. Last summer I teamed up with a colleague of mine who is also an herbalist, and we collected a nice supply of both elder flowers and elder berries. SCORE! I made a tonic using the berries and some of the flowers plus equal parts of honey and gin. The recipe called for brandy, but juniper, a key ingredient in gin, is an anti-inflammatory which helps my achy old joints. Well, I took a tablespoonful yesterday morning, then a tablespoonful last evening, and slept with clear sinuses and woke up refreshed after a good, comfortable night…with no sore throat! YAY nature! YAY elderberries and juniper!</span></div><div style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh97SyxUsquRqqS5zyaF_QR2V1xKmt5iayhgI8k2JdpCDqlfSyf_PkOSeKhDgPD9q_gHePX5nctkxgtrEQKwc9ceREy1E6Mk4w_v9_rM_RnWq9uOO2w5iPsonLeCEKSTyeW4J1QLibV7LaY/s1600/P7300001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh97SyxUsquRqqS5zyaF_QR2V1xKmt5iayhgI8k2JdpCDqlfSyf_PkOSeKhDgPD9q_gHePX5nctkxgtrEQKwc9ceREy1E6Mk4w_v9_rM_RnWq9uOO2w5iPsonLeCEKSTyeW4J1QLibV7LaY/s320/P7300001.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Elderberries</td></tr>
</tbody></table></div><div style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">Eat the Food: <o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">Those aforementioned mushrooms have graced my dinner plate three times this week, in various incarnations. The last one was a GREAT stir-fry, paired with some local frozen chicken mushrooms and maitakes from the fall, some frozen organic veggies from my garden, and some finely sliced organic pork strips from the farmer’s market, all seasoned with ginger, garlic, sesame oil and soy sauce. Of course I made too much; the leftovers went into lunch-sized freezer containers so I could carry them to school for my mid-day meal. Win-win!<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"><br />
<b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">Build community food systems: <o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">Since Peter has been traveling for work, and has had two long-term remote placements, my fall canning stockpile isn’t being used as quickly as I thought it might. I recently connected with an old friend who is having some challenging times, so I sent her home with a box full of goodies, and will continue to stock her up until she’s tired of them or I run out. She promised to save my jars for me for next year! And she loved my pepper jerky and mushrooms, too!<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;"> I have a new friend who supplied me with my kombucha mother a month or so ago. I was lucky enough to find a dehydrator at a thrift store, and got it to her (she’s been looking for one), so I was able to return a foodie favor. I also shared a bag of those nice fresh oyster mushrooms with another relatively new friend, my mushrooming buddy. He was happy to have them, and kindly offered me a few shiitake logs in the coming spring. SCORE!<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;"> Have you ever noticed the cosmic law that goes something like this: The more you give, the more you’ll receive? It’s true. There is such abundance in our world, if only we all remembered how to pass it around.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"><br />
</div><div style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">Skill up: <o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">I’m a little embarrassed to admit this one, but here goes: during the past two weeks, I had a new bathroom built on my first floor for my elderly mother, who will be coming to live with us. Prior to the construction of the bathroom, I had absolutely no idea how the plumbing worked…I didn’t know which pipe took out the waste, or if the sink water, shower water and toilet water were sent to the same place or not. One week before the contractor arrived, I had an emergency visit from the plumber, but not before I learned exactly where the upstairs toilet went. Since then, I’ve seen the plumbing adapted to the new bathroom, and have figured it all out. I can’t believe I never cared before. It’s such a simple thing…</span></div><div style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwgy8POF80AZSL3ZBINQqiI92lWWM9rO7nSLCDUmj-RZZOiex7psWzgLZqgNNAJJS_eGu63kLiA5TMdjZMc4tXt8CK8wkxhDlTR38R5mgmwUMa3eE_sXYFbDm4rf1BTvp7mBLc8RvaKGZ0/s1600/2012-01-30_18.03.16.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwgy8POF80AZSL3ZBINQqiI92lWWM9rO7nSLCDUmj-RZZOiex7psWzgLZqgNNAJJS_eGu63kLiA5TMdjZMc4tXt8CK8wkxhDlTR38R5mgmwUMa3eE_sXYFbDm4rf1BTvp7mBLc8RvaKGZ0/s320/2012-01-30_18.03.16.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Plumbing...etc.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
</div><div style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"><br />
</div><div style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt;"><br />
</div>S.Eckerthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03630951405869168215noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5971777858969029406.post-1674233503079729262012-02-02T06:43:00.000-05:002012-02-02T06:43:43.338-05:00Independence Day ChallengeOver at The Chatelaine's Keys, Sharon has issued a weekly "Independence Day Challenge". Check out her link, right here: <a href="http://sharonastyk.com/category/independence-days-challenge/">http://sharonastyk.com/category/independence-days-challenge/</a><br />
<br />
I thought this would be a great way to get back on track after my multi-month hiatus. With spring coming and a break in my academic writing, I'm itching to share some of my escapades with you again. Every Friday, I'll sum up my week, using Sharon's format; if I'm inspired to write during the week, those entries will be here as well. It'll be nice to be back.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmKggTE3bqQqmHC581T_vx_jQlFw2h3sN2xLcTBIxqWD93iIMUxeXFd0JpZznKatLk54qjwjXgjX46GqdavCyCrIc37t0gZziSCxA5LR9fdLwJ_0vhHLdx1zpzd-XXLhV4CJ65b8DJAyXO/s1600/hobie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmKggTE3bqQqmHC581T_vx_jQlFw2h3sN2xLcTBIxqWD93iIMUxeXFd0JpZznKatLk54qjwjXgjX46GqdavCyCrIc37t0gZziSCxA5LR9fdLwJ_0vhHLdx1zpzd-XXLhV4CJ65b8DJAyXO/s320/hobie.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>S.Eckerthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03630951405869168215noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5971777858969029406.post-46153711780960264552011-09-15T08:53:00.002-04:002011-09-15T08:58:07.052-04:00The Zeitgeist<div class="MsoNormal">I know it’s been quite awhile since I posted an update. At some point during the spring, I had the profound feeling that my posts were getting redundant; how many updates on canning, goats, and dinners are truly interesting? Since a great deal of my life is unbloggable (teaching), those are the things I feel comfortable writing about most days. Let me assure you that my “country life” is only part of the picture!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_HwzdHOo6va-uvEkwGc35OR-qPECV2SaPadGV42Jxb7OK_8wN2glB_yB3gVmhF3S9_8PvDxg94rx0pIHSJ4HmJeHUTYTr8bRlYad_2Ai8GZCO61Suv1B0Mc-yd_5IZxA3nYP8lLb2DH2z/s1600/GEDC1840.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_HwzdHOo6va-uvEkwGc35OR-qPECV2SaPadGV42Jxb7OK_8wN2glB_yB3gVmhF3S9_8PvDxg94rx0pIHSJ4HmJeHUTYTr8bRlYad_2Ai8GZCO61Suv1B0Mc-yd_5IZxA3nYP8lLb2DH2z/s320/GEDC1840.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">If I had to choose a theme or two for the summer, I think they would fall under the category of faith; though my interpretation of faith may not be quite the same as many of my friends’. For the last several months, we’ve experienced a rollercoaster of jobs for Peter, and an awakening of purpose for me. Peter lost a job, was on unemployment for awhile, got a job that lasted 3 months, and was once again on unemployment (this time for just a few weeks), then found his current temporary job…in Texas. This one may or may not last until March of 2012. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">He left for the Dallas area last Friday, as I was in my classroom, during the first week of school for this term. He made the trip, all packed into the 1999 ragtop Miata (and I DO mean RAGS…the top is held together with duct tape!) and miraculously arrived in one piece on Sunday, to begin work on Monday. What a guy! I have never known such a positive spirit. To travel alone, across the country on a wing and a prayer, at 63 years old is a testament to his youthful soul. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">That’s only one of our many synchronous adventures this year; it seems that every time we have an actual need, the universe complies somehow. I have been aware of the concept of manifestation for quite some time now; the process seems to have become a part of the zeitgeist, as it’s coming to me from all over. We have been manifesting slowly and steadily, which has been working just fine for us. As I said to my friend Arlene Curley, the day before he lost his last job: “Change is in the air!”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">For me, that means a concerted effort to habit-bust. I’m making our house more user friendly while Peter is away, by reassigning some dedicated space for his office, and by sorting through much of the weighty STUFF that’s holding us down. Arlene’s journey was inspirational to me; at the age of 60, she decided to remake herself. She unloaded her possessions, and followed her muse to Alaska, where she encountered her future. The rest of that story is hers to tell, but her courage truly moved me.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">So, at 53 (me), my husband is in Texas, and I’m still teaching, but with my eye on my future. I’ve begun the first baby steps at writing my book, and spent a good part of the summer researching. I’m deciding upon my “voice” right now, balancing the academic with the “historical pulp” if you get my drift. It’s such an exciting story to tell. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Pierre Bourdelle was the child of history, and the bridge to the present for us; I want to share that feeling with others. To be able to touch living history through your own bloodline: the passion of Rodin and Claudel, the apprentice system in action, the migration of the center of the art world from Paris to New York, the advent of Modernism and the waves of change it brought to education and world culture…it’s all there. I can feel it in my pulse. I can see it in Peter’s profile. And I have the ability to write it for others; it’s just a matter of time.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div>S.Eckerthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03630951405869168215noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5971777858969029406.post-6261261570825991702011-09-13T22:25:00.001-04:002011-09-13T22:32:39.079-04:00I'm back!<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7Dej6CintS04sMJBawhj-4TSaXhgxtLTbegS-QzY6N6isxXpSmEHCOog9do6Kd5_M9wBxUK9edUiQShxMR7BM0R9gVy-22O5fYd1_ycXPDVsWUuWd0PVQE0ZIiFuclKhfVVk-qI5V2Y_R/s1600/the+girls.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7Dej6CintS04sMJBawhj-4TSaXhgxtLTbegS-QzY6N6isxXpSmEHCOog9do6Kd5_M9wBxUK9edUiQShxMR7BM0R9gVy-22O5fYd1_ycXPDVsWUuWd0PVQE0ZIiFuclKhfVVk-qI5V2Y_R/s320/the+girls.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fiona and Fauni Dell</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Fall is nearly here, and with it, some time for reflection. I'll be posting again soon. In the mean time, check out how much the girls have grown! They're still BFFs, as you can see. Inseparable.<br />
<br />
I'll post an actual update tomorrow.S.Eckerthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03630951405869168215noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5971777858969029406.post-26845404862924558372011-06-17T18:37:00.000-04:002011-06-17T18:37:07.012-04:00In June<div style="text-align: center;">In June ’tis good to lie beneath a tree</div><div style="text-align: center;">While the blithe season comforts every sense,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Steeps all the brain in rest, and heals the heart,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Brimming it o’er with sweetness unawares.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">–James Russell Lowell (1819–91)<br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwLjRXJhuIAXHLGmUxlaxjIdmQKLVGTOvwqoC-QbABgE167zVFf4HtUYqumHGyDZOCfAPXaNeoOLCkpLBc9KvJEzr_wP5bokkYPz6GQJRCt9Wio6z4M4L9WmJ-lD3gh4ksscGrF6ukgV6C/s1600/GEDC1239.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwLjRXJhuIAXHLGmUxlaxjIdmQKLVGTOvwqoC-QbABgE167zVFf4HtUYqumHGyDZOCfAPXaNeoOLCkpLBc9KvJEzr_wP5bokkYPz6GQJRCt9Wio6z4M4L9WmJ-lD3gh4ksscGrF6ukgV6C/s320/GEDC1239.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Elderberry Blossoms</td></tr>
</tbody></table></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I'm JUST THAT CLOSE to summer vacation...</div><div style="text-align: center;">One more day...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div>S.Eckerthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03630951405869168215noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5971777858969029406.post-16109192073430191942011-06-14T19:32:00.002-04:002011-06-14T19:36:01.517-04:00Squash Blossoms; a Guilty Pleasure<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbpZP6cdQbqruQmg7rjblS9TufprsSbbeocksTvarDmA9xRWJMj9LHvStPOr_5Mu19O276FRBhtiI5QX4Vh2v9kz6BG3Phw8gcaWbYaZ6CsZsLLA7yWPAw3BJqp3qvE1NXbGWoTa1UBn9a/s1600/GEDC1225.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbpZP6cdQbqruQmg7rjblS9TufprsSbbeocksTvarDmA9xRWJMj9LHvStPOr_5Mu19O276FRBhtiI5QX4Vh2v9kz6BG3Phw8gcaWbYaZ6CsZsLLA7yWPAw3BJqp3qvE1NXbGWoTa1UBn9a/s320/GEDC1225.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Squash Season is Coming!!!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>This is admittedly NOT the plant I took my male blossoms from; that plant had a huge headstart, being grown in the high tunnel, however I didn't plan ahead and neglected to photograph it. Them. They're taking over. (I'll insert a picture here at a later date!)<br />
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Squash blossoms are an early summer delicacy. I only pick the male blossoms, the ones without the ovary attached (swollen base), because that's what will eventually become your squash. And I only take a few; they're a guilty secret. For this recipe you'll need a simple egg batter (like the one you use for pancakes), a stuffing, some vegetable oil, and some salt.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRaSAkNcuYYTwQCAW-okiC9Jbm7RS1n-sl0c9tNccwKFh2uOBkEltysJUTu6UpYuf5HZ7bZcYA2TST_eeudm86HfJw5LbocPgO8A4iBy3W9twcJW2pUAdWAHVULq4nFBqJriq-DBKXnsop/s1600/GEDC1232.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRaSAkNcuYYTwQCAW-okiC9Jbm7RS1n-sl0c9tNccwKFh2uOBkEltysJUTu6UpYuf5HZ7bZcYA2TST_eeudm86HfJw5LbocPgO8A4iBy3W9twcJW2pUAdWAHVULq4nFBqJriq-DBKXnsop/s320/GEDC1232.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Open the blossom, then remove the pistol. Or is it the stamen? I don't remember. Remove the phallic polleny thing in the middle. It will be bitter if you don't. Stuff the flower with something you love: crab, shrimp, mushrooms, cheese; I chose fresh mozzarella, because that's what I had. Wrap the blossom around the filling. Really tuck it in.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ5fmyvan6nPfl_2BeL6i_tAEcQ2SceAzV1wWtT2GdU902ZhtzmBUHTsoYmhfrahvFjiDDcDZU_hyphenhyphen9jxBY2jU-kmovJYuNT_mqexLFUs9h1FLf3dvatgXBNtKFfHfiE-wtO5Y06LhNG97H/s320/GEDC1233.JPG" width="320" /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Heat up your oil and get a plate ready with paper towels to catch the drips. Dip the entire blossom in the batter, and make sure the petals stay around the filling as you rotate it for coverage. I found it easiest to do by hand, but if you grip the open end of the blossom with a pair of tongs, you may be able to finesse it into compliance without messing up your manicure. Having no such manicure, I wasn't terribly concerned about using my hands. Place them in the hot (but not smoking) oil. The stuffed blossoms. Not your hands.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1a1g0oNq7NAcRr_U58anFhbRMZIYVJEj2mlwQjntRwPYvOgt7ITk11MFw5I7KMaqNDp2cqZTPyBQDmJJjGglaQMzvyc6Wb4QwO8ECWxcHqPYc1XURrOX1HOAO_a9vgG31MVCI7k-n3abA/s1600/GEDC1234.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1a1g0oNq7NAcRr_U58anFhbRMZIYVJEj2mlwQjntRwPYvOgt7ITk11MFw5I7KMaqNDp2cqZTPyBQDmJJjGglaQMzvyc6Wb4QwO8ECWxcHqPYc1XURrOX1HOAO_a9vgG31MVCI7k-n3abA/s320/GEDC1234.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Make sure to turn them as they get brown. Don't fuss with them too much or you'll lose your stuffing. Well, they will...not you. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_pTpxztlH53Jk30fyiVYwXa9qTRvuBsKUF5b5BRII0ayB110tK3Fu4aIaTwg1a8oBd3PdupwWy48857hE_qVE1NlbxpYCiW7REWnWxzwhfA9CSusDHbWLL9VJ2iiKd_5RcebTpmPoWVR8/s1600/GEDC1235.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_pTpxztlH53Jk30fyiVYwXa9qTRvuBsKUF5b5BRII0ayB110tK3Fu4aIaTwg1a8oBd3PdupwWy48857hE_qVE1NlbxpYCiW7REWnWxzwhfA9CSusDHbWLL9VJ2iiKd_5RcebTpmPoWVR8/s320/GEDC1235.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These are NOT chicken wings. Meat-free goodness.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Drain on paper towels or whatever you use for lapping up oil, then salt to taste and enjoy. If you have a favorite dipping sauce, now's the time to break it out. I used harvard beet glaze, because that's what I had. And that was just fine.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
Enjoy!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div>S.Eckerthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03630951405869168215noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5971777858969029406.post-62754560922219576172011-06-13T20:44:00.005-04:002011-06-14T11:48:42.190-04:00Berry Berry Good.Putting Food By...<br />
It's become an obsession of mine. With the imminent collapse of the fossil fuel system, combined with my "Buy Fresh, Buy Local" mindset, the natural course of things is to preserve foods that will be accessible sans power. Also, since I'm particularly sensitive to sugar for some reason, and have found through personal experience that freezing diminishes taste and texture, I've decided that dehydration is the way to go.<br />
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I bought this dehydrator about 20 years ago. It's still kicking. Of course there are natural ways to dehydrate food; I'm currently dehydrating some elderflowers in my shed as we speak; but I digress.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFXzbMNwsU2uEnz6LA52LE0TKZUTI1lI46i8fkeGl2JSiWEqez9EiP-cZ74Ifg-cOsGOPWp_Xr0UI2vf4bO1-OsB8oEI6xrcZMUglvxkp8hgbhISoFMH6ndBH6mOFN2YQS8mtNcnszllPi/s1600/GEDC1206.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFXzbMNwsU2uEnz6LA52LE0TKZUTI1lI46i8fkeGl2JSiWEqez9EiP-cZ74Ifg-cOsGOPWp_Xr0UI2vf4bO1-OsB8oEI6xrcZMUglvxkp8hgbhISoFMH6ndBH6mOFN2YQS8mtNcnszllPi/s320/GEDC1206.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nearly Antique Plastic Dehydrator (I'm Getting Old. YAY!)</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">First, you clean and half the strawberries. Mine were grown in Amish country (just a hop over the county line in Kutztown), and are natural and local. Beautiful, aren't they?</div><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4gbYwE7vJCpjvKuaJhVIVQ8Us1C9OLBXJU3jb3b4JR_oxBsjY9DiL8NVAjke3rh7WOGriwjZt9deXldNazsQypk4UaDuWRcfpMU0i5_qLyKlZGqLczrf9x7ogQT10AospSYc6-PKgjXAd/s1600/GEDC1203.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4gbYwE7vJCpjvKuaJhVIVQ8Us1C9OLBXJU3jb3b4JR_oxBsjY9DiL8NVAjke3rh7WOGriwjZt9deXldNazsQypk4UaDuWRcfpMU0i5_qLyKlZGqLczrf9x7ogQT10AospSYc6-PKgjXAd/s320/GEDC1203.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You KNOW I Ate Some...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>After you cut them, place them on the trays, seed side down. NOT cut side down. They'll stick.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPVLSRWqaDjQOwAYVbAdw9Kdf0LW_tV_IRsRRwiKjXg2aNs8lq1jAQfPu9HwldULLRYX2aaCHCnvadNim9SFbqHVVLzsrCNoHqugTsN5eLOYacaSoUGVwx4dBQ4lZEg8YANgvWRNRnlR4x/s1600/GEDC1204.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPVLSRWqaDjQOwAYVbAdw9Kdf0LW_tV_IRsRRwiKjXg2aNs8lq1jAQfPu9HwldULLRYX2aaCHCnvadNim9SFbqHVVLzsrCNoHqugTsN5eLOYacaSoUGVwx4dBQ4lZEg8YANgvWRNRnlR4x/s320/GEDC1204.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Stack those trays up. If you have multiple trays, you'll save energy, because it will take the same amount of time to do 6 as to do 2. The trays weren't cheap, as I recall (it's been awhile), but they have more than paid for themselves.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC16UiV-52bDIX0Ez6QCMZfLOos_bEMdK47Ml1ClVFpZeaY-27B3N5XQXU4WQAwyWdKkqRsSChszw0t0KLxHMDSdXkvrbYap3bRkMTrC_cYEzHCpu6_KRbJz4BuJYZyPbdCGwDR6hQgiVG/s1600/GEDC1205.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC16UiV-52bDIX0Ez6QCMZfLOos_bEMdK47Ml1ClVFpZeaY-27B3N5XQXU4WQAwyWdKkqRsSChszw0t0KLxHMDSdXkvrbYap3bRkMTrC_cYEzHCpu6_KRbJz4BuJYZyPbdCGwDR6hQgiVG/s320/GEDC1205.JPG" width="278" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Use the Proper Heat Setting</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">They shrink way down. Down to 20% of their original volume, as I calculate...</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnSJqa4oy32v19PcXngvgoV_NvtZifcqV-akhKgwvJY-ByZ6Jr8BW2mn4owB2IqgXp4IOWQuMwjzvG1ybbjWpvhGYojfcVS4fclNu-uhel9sFjftyuLChbgZcUHlg9lRaB-ajO4LPkYFmQ/s1600/GEDC1216.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnSJqa4oy32v19PcXngvgoV_NvtZifcqV-akhKgwvJY-ByZ6Jr8BW2mn4owB2IqgXp4IOWQuMwjzvG1ybbjWpvhGYojfcVS4fclNu-uhel9sFjftyuLChbgZcUHlg9lRaB-ajO4LPkYFmQ/s320/GEDC1216.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
I almost always dehydrate overnight, and that worked fine for these goodies. I found that 5 quarts of fresh fruit equalled 1 quart of dried. So I made 2 dried quarts for the winter. That should hold us.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw-GaFi-rAV8D_bEvOU_phVlYFSi3QubWtEE-0j3JxlPR3EMv8Slb0wTzndNeJi8ovvWaaJ7DM2o5fEY68blq80SyJgeYbaR4HiFTOmn6tojsZ2lbFGe59A_VkbOG4GcZvLdansDgdNIDD/s1600/GEDC1217.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw-GaFi-rAV8D_bEvOU_phVlYFSi3QubWtEE-0j3JxlPR3EMv8Slb0wTzndNeJi8ovvWaaJ7DM2o5fEY68blq80SyJgeYbaR4HiFTOmn6tojsZ2lbFGe59A_VkbOG4GcZvLdansDgdNIDD/s320/GEDC1217.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
They taste wonderful: concentrated strawberry goodness. I can just imagine them in oatmeal, on cereal, in cream-of wheat, or bread pudding...spring goodness in the deep winter. Yum.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh-9tCf-zn433GSJCOve4qp1CJEpCmtj3aw0pVEmbqmUupWIc-sl6aEkEGVPczBPu05m-1w6AjCKDaRM4OVBfiEg4UN5LvYoOk1kg4uUzxrLAcfYuzXFajqFnJF32DwP7C5SI8CUCoGtFw/s1600/GEDC1218.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh-9tCf-zn433GSJCOve4qp1CJEpCmtj3aw0pVEmbqmUupWIc-sl6aEkEGVPczBPu05m-1w6AjCKDaRM4OVBfiEg4UN5LvYoOk1kg4uUzxrLAcfYuzXFajqFnJF32DwP7C5SI8CUCoGtFw/s320/GEDC1218.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beauty is Only Skin Deep<br />
<br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>By the way, the <a href="http://www.almanac.com/">Farmer's Almanac</a> has this tidbit to share about the aforementioned topic:<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">"The month of June's full Moon's name is the Full Strawberry Moon. June's Full Strawberry Moon got its name because the Algonquin tribes knew it as a signal to gather ripening fruit.</div><div style="text-align: center;">It was often known as the Full Rose Moon in Europe (where strawberries aren't native)."</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Cool.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>S.Eckerthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03630951405869168215noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5971777858969029406.post-69839934093042614112011-06-12T09:35:00.001-04:002011-06-12T09:43:08.024-04:00GazelleMost of you already know that each animal on the farm (any farm) has their own distinct personality. Yesterday, I decided it was time to showcase Gazelle, who has recently become the Belle of the Barn.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmsgwX6qH5YuDKMuzpJTHeC88ME5BQZDsxCYInLHGrwZgD7QYIx1k5BWJz4_DKgG4Mf8lHiO7o86FA4zIVfFpcIHJ1CV_J_-ujz0VRaOrAE16vek4jvUf_qxlh-C9Yn80UvjyEdRwrrvA9/s1600/P7250004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmsgwX6qH5YuDKMuzpJTHeC88ME5BQZDsxCYInLHGrwZgD7QYIx1k5BWJz4_DKgG4Mf8lHiO7o86FA4zIVfFpcIHJ1CV_J_-ujz0VRaOrAE16vek4jvUf_qxlh-C9Yn80UvjyEdRwrrvA9/s320/P7250004.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nosy</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Last year was Gazelle's first freshening. I recall carrying her, trembling, to the milk stand, where she'd barely tolerate the process. She had to be lifted onto the stand for weeks after that, afraid to jump up, afraid of any different sounds; just afraid. She was a small, trembling bunch of nerves, for no reason other than it was in her nature; being born and raised on the farm, she has never encountered abuse or neglect. She was just wired that way. <br />
<br />
So, I began a season of psychotherapy for Gazelle. I told her how good she was, how smart and beautiful. I rewarded her efforts with handfuls of sweet feed, and laid my hands on her whenever she was in the stand. I stroked both her body and her ego (if you have to ask if goats have egos, you don't know goats), and as the season grew warmer, so did her spirit. Though she was never queen material, being a diminutive goat, Gazelle was beautiful, and soon lost her fear.<br />
<br />
Then winter came, and with it, the long gestational wait. Gazelle ripened with the rest of the girls, and gave birth to twins in March. Big, hungry twins. She was relieved at weaning time, like most of the mommas. And milking time began again.<br />
<br />
Miss Gazelle is now the Lolita of the Lower Barn. She bats her eyes at you, nuzzles your ears, kisses your lips. She gazes into your eyes, hypnotically implanting that one thought, paramount on her mind: "GRAIN...GIVE ME GRAIN". She has been called "the best goat", "my favorite goat", "a sweet goat", etc., by everyone who encounters her. I believe it's her own psychic ability, recently developed, which she has learned how to focus on her minions (us). See for yourself:<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggolfR5ienl-Yqdl_gD2YtIcgzN759IOtTZr6ghNWXxbbO7BZ3dq9Z-iiH0rnbKJ7IgVE4YOCp_wwSsWsiVfe8_tGUohDH4l9DeFl_8pMFTm-dsNTpQkY-ToaV6p9edAVH-LfMTwqxM0Fz/s1600/GEDC1210.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggolfR5ienl-Yqdl_gD2YtIcgzN759IOtTZr6ghNWXxbbO7BZ3dq9Z-iiH0rnbKJ7IgVE4YOCp_wwSsWsiVfe8_tGUohDH4l9DeFl_8pMFTm-dsNTpQkY-ToaV6p9edAVH-LfMTwqxM0Fz/s320/GEDC1210.JPG" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">GIVE...ME...GRAIN...(You're getting SLEEPY; SLEEPY...)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Just look at that face. Don't you just want to plant one on those fuzzy lips? I often do, and Gazelle often kisses back. And then, of course...I give her grain.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQpWriuVAoWO2KXVIploPMUM5xkxgqlIDhGz_ARo-OHMJwcIiRLwKKFbkLtddJ75BkGW_ylq_DONn__TLPlWRO35vpffItZ8Lq83ifHkLVHf1mnWmEzDoQdB8LTWX6BCLIYJSUvJlPBx5o/s1600/GEDC1214.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQpWriuVAoWO2KXVIploPMUM5xkxgqlIDhGz_ARo-OHMJwcIiRLwKKFbkLtddJ75BkGW_ylq_DONn__TLPlWRO35vpffItZ8Lq83ifHkLVHf1mnWmEzDoQdB8LTWX6BCLIYJSUvJlPBx5o/s320/GEDC1214.JPG" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Who could resist?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>S.Eckerthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03630951405869168215noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5971777858969029406.post-84159924771008484882011-06-06T20:04:00.001-04:002011-06-07T17:16:47.122-04:00Fauni DellThis afternoon, after I finished milking the 24 Flint Hill Goaty-Babes, I decided to visit with the kids awhile. They were sleepy and adorable, and all too ready to socialize. Frank has grown a bit aloof, though he still comes for a nose scratch if he sees his sisters talking with me. Fiona is vocal and opinionated; she has a pouty sort of call that reminds me so much of her mother, my first goat (this time around!) Faith. Fairly (our adopted daughter, the only Toggenberg in my familial herd) always comes to me for a cuddle and a suck on my fingers, though last time, she chomped down and drew blood, so she's officially finger weaned. She was always such a frantic nurser; perhaps because I had to tube her to bring her back to life after her mother abandoned her. One doesn't forget that feeling of starvation. Ever.<br />
<br />
And then there's Miss Fauni Dell. Fauni was the middle birth of Faith's triplets, and I had given her up for dead. She presented sideways, and Kathy pulled her that way after trying everything else she could (after I did the same). Little Fauni's head turned to the side as she was born, and we feared the worst; I had given Kathy the go ahead to just pull her to save Faith's life. I thought she'd have a broken neck; but she was small, and had no permanent injuries. She slept with her head to that same side for the first few weeks of her life ( I bottle fed the triplets and little Fairly), but she was up and running with her sibs in record time. And now she thinks I'm her Mama.<br />
<br />
Fauni came out to play awhile tonight. I brought her out of the kids' stall (they stayed in because of the heat today), and put her on the ground for a few minutes. I stepped away, and she followed me. I took 5 steps, and she followed me more. Then we sat in the hammock, watered the garden, walked down to her goat-Mama's stall, and she followed me. Talking the entire time. Maaaa. Conversational.<br />
<br />
We both heard Fiona complaining back in the kids' stall. Fauni even answered her a few times. I'm wondering if my little herd will follow me en masse; that's a game I'll attempt to play later this week, when I'm ready to videotape them. :::::LIVE UPDATE::::: <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hF9oTTkE5JU&feature=mfu_in_order&list=UL">CLICK HERE</a><br />
<br />
Until then, I'm happy to be much loved by my little Fauni Dell, the wonder goat; our little miracle, who has Much To Do. And I'm hoping that by the time she's ready to be a Mama herself, I'll have a place of my own to keep her in, and I can know her family even better that I know her. My sweet little girl, who Was Meant To Be.S.Eckerthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03630951405869168215noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5971777858969029406.post-87593502411652077212011-06-02T23:06:00.001-04:002011-06-02T23:08:26.454-04:00Pennsylvania OystersThis same tree, and this same farmer shared their bounty with me last fall. I recall that my hands were very cold when I pulled the mushrooms from the tree last fall; today, I was feeling springtime fresh. We just had a week or so of hot, rainy weather, followed by two days of sunny heat. TREASURE!!!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnER5OtrrVfFL5tHzKmq-GpNgUpU3ymfF4pCe-oKje_zRz1I5thBY0mrV0lE0SBKbFAxuvxn-oTS3rYf5G8nNSYb9d3ybypqXb-_5zFXIfCHn5qJD9IA63yXc9HkLAw2fdy65LDIk-Hp2S/s1600/oyster+tree.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnER5OtrrVfFL5tHzKmq-GpNgUpU3ymfF4pCe-oKje_zRz1I5thBY0mrV0lE0SBKbFAxuvxn-oTS3rYf5G8nNSYb9d3ybypqXb-_5zFXIfCHn5qJD9IA63yXc9HkLAw2fdy65LDIk-Hp2S/s320/oyster+tree.png" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I saw them driving by...</td></tr>
</tbody></table> Though I admit that I stopped by his farm, Mr. Unnamed Farmer wasn't home yesterday, and I didn't trespass. I went back this evening.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeN1R4L0wcV-7OuI5w58aLX5rEibB1Z4jOUIgF0_0QXVIo2lXFS9pDtf4EXXlwpZIRPrjTufQesfPBnhdLZyA6-9GABN8S_phyphenhyphenqKPklULnQFcUNVJRKMj-e7L5lgsN1md1IKtUI4cxvOj7/s1600/oysters.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeN1R4L0wcV-7OuI5w58aLX5rEibB1Z4jOUIgF0_0QXVIo2lXFS9pDtf4EXXlwpZIRPrjTufQesfPBnhdLZyA6-9GABN8S_phyphenhyphenqKPklULnQFcUNVJRKMj-e7L5lgsN1md1IKtUI4cxvOj7/s320/oysters.png" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There they are. Same tree, different season.</td></tr>
</tbody></table> They were a day or so past prime. A small price to pay to maintain my integrity. The farmer was still willing to give them up, despite my praise of last year's crop, though he did welcome my "payment" of milk and eggs, due on Sunday. A fair price, at my insistence. He was willing to just give them up. Nice farmer.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj03KRv73oj95MM6LyC0R0lO2TN89Vov0ybuvEcSCXwdqsiAQLEwlDXDk9Rv_sW9Z-K2wvw5w7zeBoKN6jMDPJCPtVpU56ZdIKsvojjluqzZiQhNZt7Fbr3pmEqDShJfk1OCfIvRH9rGHMr/s1600/GEDC1135.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj03KRv73oj95MM6LyC0R0lO2TN89Vov0ybuvEcSCXwdqsiAQLEwlDXDk9Rv_sW9Z-K2wvw5w7zeBoKN6jMDPJCPtVpU56ZdIKsvojjluqzZiQhNZt7Fbr3pmEqDShJfk1OCfIvRH9rGHMr/s320/GEDC1135.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">After cleaning, a short soak; they were a bit dry on the edges.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihNP4A43pRpZpB3lNPNwumxmPiD4Xk_kcTOTm0Go8uS9Vx_vEKedljd49Ef9bzT9l4G3CEspADXjg5ZoD9eVc5NRSwTXKbplfKYkrWTtp-SEh4ROJKnnws6JMHlQOyKncBJffWg4n6K0_3/s1600/GEDC1132.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihNP4A43pRpZpB3lNPNwumxmPiD4Xk_kcTOTm0Go8uS9Vx_vEKedljd49Ef9bzT9l4G3CEspADXjg5ZoD9eVc5NRSwTXKbplfKYkrWTtp-SEh4ROJKnnws6JMHlQOyKncBJffWg4n6K0_3/s320/GEDC1132.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Note the gills that travel right up the stem, which is minimal. And they smell so good!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUY-NaS_W5b0ivhbijf6nfQVkGOOqC9Vd_FHpoo9kCbRAn3dsPNUJOKDSS65n-IEv4j5cmnR7jZky0nSzhhO70pWNHgeEIWe6RB474oEhjEwxixsvDkQuqHUnb-w1aIDDPfWObpGjo10Pu/s1600/GEDC1133.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUY-NaS_W5b0ivhbijf6nfQVkGOOqC9Vd_FHpoo9kCbRAn3dsPNUJOKDSS65n-IEv4j5cmnR7jZky0nSzhhO70pWNHgeEIWe6RB474oEhjEwxixsvDkQuqHUnb-w1aIDDPfWObpGjo10Pu/s320/GEDC1133.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They typically grow on hardwood. The tree these are on is WAY DEAD, but I'll ask Mr. Farmer <br />
what it was when I see him on Sunday.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEXdcd2VSHjCCv3c-lq1NbxmcisxpjapmIkFypstkT4bh4vQ5F1oqMgZ18PhCzXu_MRYiINpXh-3p4dCPYMDCnlsXKmn2Ua54J6rwG8zfUiv80lykDJPepv3xClyTLVLmNYkXmCx5zZGsB/s1600/GEDC1134.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEXdcd2VSHjCCv3c-lq1NbxmcisxpjapmIkFypstkT4bh4vQ5F1oqMgZ18PhCzXu_MRYiINpXh-3p4dCPYMDCnlsXKmn2Ua54J6rwG8zfUiv80lykDJPepv3xClyTLVLmNYkXmCx5zZGsB/s320/GEDC1134.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Recipes and storage tips to follow...</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;">Life's good. Bb.</div>S.Eckerthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03630951405869168215noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5971777858969029406.post-22542381534657910552011-06-01T08:47:00.004-04:002011-06-01T20:10:11.902-04:00AbundanceSpring has suddenly morphed into summer, as it seems to do every Memorial Day. With the torrential rains, tornadoes, subsequent sunlight and heat has come the inevitable greening of Pennsylvania.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjqEtfJisCHdfvLWkQntMvpvFOBURBm3emGMK7rNqg0-6x9F2kUIOC9coHa2w1SKgAoKSeF3DY2jRe2ki6Snw225wUkdFUwuTBmCGLhKW0WOw1jCKMXHfcgDsZmvk08OZbWUmx-ZiwQP3m/s1600/dinner+trimmings.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjqEtfJisCHdfvLWkQntMvpvFOBURBm3emGMK7rNqg0-6x9F2kUIOC9coHa2w1SKgAoKSeF3DY2jRe2ki6Snw225wUkdFUwuTBmCGLhKW0WOw1jCKMXHfcgDsZmvk08OZbWUmx-ZiwQP3m/s320/dinner+trimmings.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Trimming the Garden: Feverfew, Lemon Balm, Spearmint, Sage, Kale, Spinach, Lettuce, Strawberries...<br />
and a Few Weeds.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>I'll discuss my vegetable garden in a later post, as I'm way behind on taking the appropriate pictures. What I want to discuss today is the natural bounty I've experienced so far this spring. Wild harvests have been possible for months already, with the first garlic mustard, ramps, morels, dryads' saddles, watercress, nettle, etc. On Sunday afternoon, as I was waiting for the shuttle to arrive for our post-paddle trip home (we had a wonderful 17 mile paddle trip on the Pine Creek, near Williamsport, with a most-excellent group of new friends), I spent a few endorphin fueled moments gazing at the "weed" bank by the water. It occurred to me that I could actually create a fairly decent meal from the abundant plants growing there. There was stinging nettle (par-boiled and sauteed, a better-than-spinach green), burdock (the root is a prized vegetable in Asian cultures, though I've personally never tried it because it's a huge taproot, a long, deep dig...and I'm lazy), garlic mustard (spicy greens and root), upland cress (peppery), and some wild carrot. We need never go hungry in the summer, if we know what we're looking at. <br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF93nu2AVErWm6zHy-uBRFiluLm-Euab5tIBpCp0hWfYbJeNAbC-_7VnbClKGQb4_JtY_PGxMAGVr_6kYJEdsIeX7qCm_dQAD0bQeTgLh5gdedz8PYf6k6rhmJ-nNsCD_4oZsXi5BlfavD/s1600/GEDC1114.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF93nu2AVErWm6zHy-uBRFiluLm-Euab5tIBpCp0hWfYbJeNAbC-_7VnbClKGQb4_JtY_PGxMAGVr_6kYJEdsIeX7qCm_dQAD0bQeTgLh5gdedz8PYf6k6rhmJ-nNsCD_4oZsXi5BlfavD/s320/GEDC1114.JPG" t8="true" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Feverfew</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Back at home, the herb garden in my tiny back yard is in full swing. I harvested the comfrey because it was threatening to move into the kitchen, and I've begun harvesting the feverfew flowers. The valerian is about to burst into bloom, and the tansy and pennyroyal are looking promising. I have enough mint and lemon balm for the entire block. My more traditional culinary herbs are holding their own; I've been topping the basil, parsley, rosemary and oregano for a few weeks as I need them for my cooking; the thyme is a little slower to get started, and my new chives are lagging behind. The perennial strawberries are enjoying a renaissance this year, after last year's hiatus, and the snow peas I put in after a glass of wine sometime a few weeks ago are doing surprisingly well considering their inappropriate position.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTZbld49iX8Hnz0YuxdU_nEsfajCiPXJSyz4bYLqk90NXlH8lW1OqHtkGinhccuyhxx0xsz-Lf1dguWxcirfdaUxN0DiNl-ebgeIv9YeAsKFgNBsCsFiF5llUnyVI8vw8NAUJ6N2BBl2ZW/s1600/GEDC1115.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTZbld49iX8Hnz0YuxdU_nEsfajCiPXJSyz4bYLqk90NXlH8lW1OqHtkGinhccuyhxx0xsz-Lf1dguWxcirfdaUxN0DiNl-ebgeIv9YeAsKFgNBsCsFiF5llUnyVI8vw8NAUJ6N2BBl2ZW/s320/GEDC1115.JPG" t8="true" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Strawberries</td></tr>
</tbody></table>It's amazing to me how much you can harvest from a tiny spit of land, if you simply adjust your expectations about what a backyard should look like, and use your culinary and medicinal herbs and vegetables for greenery and flowers instead. I have more than enough for my husband and myself, on a piece of land smaller than most people's living room; of course, my more expansive vegetable garden is off-site, and I'd dearly love to have that right at hand, but I'm happy to have it, regardless.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgakrTFHLAD4PAiLp1Vm_TM6tYZulvWsCy13e6lYUhyta-ExqWDLlOLobhlGIqBB8EsBnQ_iYiof0jdIyS7nBW0AdDXRPpWaO4P17Wm9W-nwB8qurAKOa2qyms4eGJadbrTHIRR6YuoxmtG/s1600/GEDC1112.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgakrTFHLAD4PAiLp1Vm_TM6tYZulvWsCy13e6lYUhyta-ExqWDLlOLobhlGIqBB8EsBnQ_iYiof0jdIyS7nBW0AdDXRPpWaO4P17Wm9W-nwB8qurAKOa2qyms4eGJadbrTHIRR6YuoxmtG/s320/GEDC1112.JPG" t8="true" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gratuitous Snow Peas</td></tr>
</tbody></table>More pictures to follow! <br />
<br />
P.S.: On the way home from the farm this afternoon, I saw two tiny spotted fawns. What a blessing! AND: a beautiful bloom of oyster mushrooms on the famous farmer's tree from last fall. I stopped by to ask if he was still disinterested in them (!), but he wasn't home. I sure hope no one spots them before tomorrow!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2XevxvnsYB3IvQES1tr8gv9WLyATxR_vZGLLYXcK-Ahf39BOt23VdtKyO4H0x1or8OrLUNTThvq50dp7rLmxkvGmXDGwU0UO9_ZpdJTDOiGVwPlNgNl53Nds2Rooir2__-09T6bEL2Hcl/s1600/Watermelon+drink.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2XevxvnsYB3IvQES1tr8gv9WLyATxR_vZGLLYXcK-Ahf39BOt23VdtKyO4H0x1or8OrLUNTThvq50dp7rLmxkvGmXDGwU0UO9_ZpdJTDOiGVwPlNgNl53Nds2Rooir2__-09T6bEL2Hcl/s320/Watermelon+drink.png" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Watermelon Juice with Plum Vodka, a Watermelon Ball and a Backyard Mint Sprig. <br />
YUM! When the Watermelon is Local, it'll REALLY Rock!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>S.Eckerthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03630951405869168215noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5971777858969029406.post-22946289888409705072011-05-17T19:59:00.002-04:002011-05-17T20:35:50.758-04:00It Was the Best of Times...and so on.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnAmG-2Os5XQ3l77YDl4vztwG8kcMgEysv7NhMCkMLiduKFDnd_xV-mIY9WNevwlP15yAQ77VN9o0WjFpbt4GZ8r6dPnUSvjPMNMsHEYAfwf7aksRCy_OMY_KnIni1U_2KfBl0bvxU6X0M/s1600/GEDC1028.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" j8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnAmG-2Os5XQ3l77YDl4vztwG8kcMgEysv7NhMCkMLiduKFDnd_xV-mIY9WNevwlP15yAQ77VN9o0WjFpbt4GZ8r6dPnUSvjPMNMsHEYAfwf7aksRCy_OMY_KnIni1U_2KfBl0bvxU6X0M/s320/GEDC1028.JPG" width="295" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Soooo...after a reasonably uncomfortable union meeting (I won't go into details as per my personal rules), I was enroute to the local fresh market for some fresh protein and a much needed adult beverage (next door to the fresh market), when I spied a police car in my rear view mirror. Lights ablaze. For me. ME???? I pulled over, no idea of what was going on; it was about 4:20 PM, on my way home from a day of gainful employment, finally in the clear of the gazillion things I've been juggling in my head, and BAMMMMM...it's the MAN.<br />
<br />
Long story short, I spaced out on my registration and inspection. Now, a few years ago, I used to receive registration renewal notices in the mail. I counted on them to remind me to prepare for the whole process. They don't come anymore for some reason. That was the first strike. On April 27th, just THREE DAYS BEFORE MY INSPECTION RAN OUT, my brakes started grinding, and I had them replaced. At my dealer. Who charged me big bucks. $650 of them. Do you THINK they'd mention the soon to be due inspection? JUST MAYBE? That's strike 2. Strike 3 is my own complacency. I've been contemplating the meaning of life and stuff. Planting a garden. Milking goats. Teaching kids (both human and goat). Making and matting house tour drawings. Writing papers. Taking care of maternal visits. Working full time. Something had to give. Sheesh. I even forgot to RSVP to an impromptu dinner invitation until the night-of. Sorry El, once again, and I hope you call me back one day when the dust settles. I'm overloaded. Expensively overloaded.<br />
<br />
In his defense, the officer could have been MUCH more vindictive. He was kind, and professional, and I could have owed much more. But still...it was a pricey lesson. So what will I do next year? Well, the cell phone is now programmed to go off weekly starting April 1, reminding me to deal with it. My husband's is too. And any other bells and whistles I can locate will soon be employed likewise. <br />
<br />
Of course none of the service stations are open at this hour to make an inspection appointment. So what's a girl to do? <br />
<br />
Make aebleskiver. <br />
<br />
What's that, you ask? Only the best alternative to gut-wrenching stomach anchoring pancakes in the history of Scandinavian cookery. Why now, you might ask? Because I picked up a cast iron aebleskiver pan at the thrift store two days ago, and am currently housebound due to my illegal truck. I'm making lemons into lemonade...or traffic fines into pastry. So to speak.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-N5PZu2m7TnpHPFmfRIUFI5qSHAFEuLVSrfccbB9v5rhvUR2EKc79SecjqYAFGlrod2ocAfFu0_oj_EkTy06xbHWrPc3K_C5QNadqUBkvpCHfHtWOHp3YElb6pAhi92SZJx_nlG-omwhd/s1600/GEDC1025.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" j8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-N5PZu2m7TnpHPFmfRIUFI5qSHAFEuLVSrfccbB9v5rhvUR2EKc79SecjqYAFGlrod2ocAfFu0_oj_EkTy06xbHWrPc3K_C5QNadqUBkvpCHfHtWOHp3YElb6pAhi92SZJx_nlG-omwhd/s320/GEDC1025.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Is is an Egg Poacher? A Biscuit Pan? No, it's an Aebleskiver Maker!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>I had everything I needed. The recipe is easy; I found a simple one that didn't require "stiff eggwhites" online<a href="http://www.myrecipes.com/recipe/danish-pancake-balls-aebleskiver-10000000663064/"> here</a> at my.recipes. I don't do stiff eggwhites. But I DO do aebleskivers from now on! All you need is regular pantry items, some sort of filling (I used some awesome raspberry jam, given to me by <a href="http://livingthefrugallife.blogspot.com/">Kate, over at Living the Frugal Life.)</a>. You make the batter per the directions, spoon a little bit into the buttered concavity, let it rise a bit, spoon in a little filling, top it off with more batter, turn it with a chop stick (or other pointy object), and let it brown. Holy cow. It made those tickets seem so much less important.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiODULpBtcvpU60jUt62DhTLmQZ33aw-lkIpt24GWl6b_2x-b5QFuxjDWwrywI7CqPEQ4nH-6XiQ_ZHoVHHQIWUrYaeHbBbdF-uNxQ-XhjXUGKbEWIT3GKIpKuTH6wNSv6cXzYK8IURGemt/s1600/GEDC1026.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="241" j8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiODULpBtcvpU60jUt62DhTLmQZ33aw-lkIpt24GWl6b_2x-b5QFuxjDWwrywI7CqPEQ4nH-6XiQ_ZHoVHHQIWUrYaeHbBbdF-uNxQ-XhjXUGKbEWIT3GKIpKuTH6wNSv6cXzYK8IURGemt/s320/GEDC1026.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There they are, filled and turned once.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaJEonOSlicN7sVOWbj6QWJBwc5pECJpLGT7o5E0wC7An3dK1sa27xjvTMGfYcr__kR2Nd5qLF_ylaP2tk5kchF2Sg-R22sCXUXgsIsHWuUMxnfcd60w-jm62bGVsRO46e3oWXjaJX9G3x/s1600/GEDC1027.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="244" j8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaJEonOSlicN7sVOWbj6QWJBwc5pECJpLGT7o5E0wC7An3dK1sa27xjvTMGfYcr__kR2Nd5qLF_ylaP2tk5kchF2Sg-R22sCXUXgsIsHWuUMxnfcd60w-jm62bGVsRO46e3oWXjaJX9G3x/s320/GEDC1027.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Browning off the sides.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>What you don't see is me, popping one in my mouth as soon as it's finished, and burning the heck out of my tongue on the jam. It was just that kind of a day. I'm not a big fan of baked goods. But I was vulnerable tonight...and oh, so willing to be self-pampered. And that was darn good jam, Kate! Thank you!<br />
<br />
So, the moral of the story is this: If you foul up in an expensive and embarrassing way, and get confined to quarters, raid your pantry and try a new culinary experiment, preferably involving starch, butter, and fruit preserves. This is a good example. Then, you can take it camping, impress your friends, and potentially regain your self-esteem! Hey! Hopefully your truck will be registered and inspected if you do, though. You know mine will be. <br />
<br />
Sheesh, what a day!S.Eckerthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03630951405869168215noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5971777858969029406.post-49922856638619018192011-05-16T20:15:00.003-04:002011-05-17T21:59:40.268-04:00Sandy the Goatherd<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCtUL993M6C37LBCqaJh_QzO3RZQKUGjdA3tcB6eA_tPdqBrAAIZM1cpyp8d6NgLyuhSJ4YsSLC1ua5un_NFcLnJvulCxXzJnxWfuTAEtiWcdMabiPT3Ls8vQ1djnsqq2163lrQk65Hou-/s1600/cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" j8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCtUL993M6C37LBCqaJh_QzO3RZQKUGjdA3tcB6eA_tPdqBrAAIZM1cpyp8d6NgLyuhSJ4YsSLC1ua5un_NFcLnJvulCxXzJnxWfuTAEtiWcdMabiPT3Ls8vQ1djnsqq2163lrQk65Hou-/s320/cover.jpg" width="237" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cover Art: Heidi</td></tr>
</tbody></table>You know, I've been thinking about Gene Logsdon's post, over at <a href="http://thecontraryfarmer.wordpress.com/2011/05/16/the-gentle-approach-to-animals-saves-time-and-money/">The Contrary Farmer</a>, all afternoon. In it, he discusses the <strike>connection communication</strike> relationships between our livestock / friends and ourselves. I actually had this conversation over a glass or three of wine with friends a week or so ago. I, being <strike>a little</strike> quite left of center, contend that all is not as we imagine it: that it's quite possible for animals other than ourselves to experience the world through a sixth sense, and communicate psychically. I find it awfully shortsighted and speciest to imagine that everyone is equipped with the same tools we are, and that our sensory organs are the end-all measure to reality. My engineer friend, however (you know who you are!) contends that animals simply pick up our non-verbal clues, and are much better than we are at understanding body language. I'm not quite so stuck on empirical data; <a href="http://whosgotyourgoat.blogspot.com/2010/05/laying-on-of-chins.html">I believe there's more. That's just me.</a> <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKS3ne_Kd-Cb3e1nTwyIml6Wc615j3X6H7FemaIOPR6jaOSyJCGmEJPTlX62-CcBWu9s2dAKEp9TGi35iw5PpjBmW9UVaEdmRyqEQ9uQiu7_JuZePR4-0Ay6aLbZyqT3SCug9067GH5xBP/s1600/GEDC0531.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" j8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKS3ne_Kd-Cb3e1nTwyIml6Wc615j3X6H7FemaIOPR6jaOSyJCGmEJPTlX62-CcBWu9s2dAKEp9TGi35iw5PpjBmW9UVaEdmRyqEQ9uQiu7_JuZePR4-0Ay6aLbZyqT3SCug9067GH5xBP/s320/GEDC0531.JPG" width="211" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Day Fairly Was Born</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Today, after teaching, I arrived at the farm to find that all of the yearling goats had escaped their pen and were busy grazing with the milkers. The kids did it last week; this week, the yearlings decided to jump ship. Just like that. This could have been an issue, had we panicked, but Kathy and the others calmly waited for me to arrive, and I separated milkers from doelings by opening a gate and inviting the "mommas" in. I said, "Come on, Mommas". The yearlings, appropriately waited outside. Then I opened the outer gate, and asked them to follow me. My favorite phrase for the 18 young does has always been "hurry, hurry!" when I brought them in from the fields, so I said, "Come on, kids! Hurry, Hurry!" They'd follow me anywhere. And they very sweetly followed me back up to the stall area, where I directed them into a waiting area. Was it my body language? Why didn't they follow anyone else? Do they know I expect it of them? Did they expect food? Maybe...all I know is that I know the ways of these goats; and they know the ways of this human. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAvO6yV2UsmZketlr68MX4Q7xS-OcnO5nBJGhEvxyIbJdvO5BhLf1Kg0B4RZk515QmZ10wMMmMR5S5K_wv-uDzr2j7Kvx3ZSCkgTz6ayhF-cb9NvPx0btljSzoZi95NAh99GliIPHwUrH-/s1600/kids.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" j8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAvO6yV2UsmZketlr68MX4Q7xS-OcnO5nBJGhEvxyIbJdvO5BhLf1Kg0B4RZk515QmZ10wMMmMR5S5K_wv-uDzr2j7Kvx3ZSCkgTz6ayhF-cb9NvPx0btljSzoZi95NAh99GliIPHwUrH-/s320/kids.bmp" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sleepy Kids After Last Week's Mutiny</td></tr>
</tbody></table>When I was a little girl, one of my favorite books was "Heidi". Maybe it was because my mother is German, and she delighted in the story. Maybe it was the way I could see the story as it unfolded before me. But MAYBE (and by this I mean probably) it was because I loved Peter the Goatherd. I wasn't IN love with Peter the Goatherd. I was too young for that. I wanted to BE Peter the Goatherd. It's true. So now, I have a husband named Peter. But I'm the goatherd. Go figure.<br />
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</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0PN1khmwX_NDfjA-qwOKiUBHAQUq6a250sZunW4GHnNxFpTR8_kYAB1Y88S1QiX3dlibT0jQYrIydy5Rp8Rva0eqphNdG7dWQb7cLNj5j8_74cGXlmV54fcRzVCtHPPJ_ZDtUaKvnKRRh/s1600/CIMG0058.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" j8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0PN1khmwX_NDfjA-qwOKiUBHAQUq6a250sZunW4GHnNxFpTR8_kYAB1Y88S1QiX3dlibT0jQYrIydy5Rp8Rva0eqphNdG7dWQb7cLNj5j8_74cGXlmV54fcRzVCtHPPJ_ZDtUaKvnKRRh/s320/CIMG0058.jpg" width="257" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Peter the Goatherd and Frankie the Goat</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Gene Logsdon wrote about the interpersonal interactions between himself and his animals: the treats, the scratching, the conversations. He wrote that on a small scale, a small farm, your animals "almost" become friends and interacting with them isn't work, but visiting. I feel more like that in the summer, when I'm not so rushed; but I do understand the emotion, and I do feel the affection these animals bestow upon me. I know their moods, and their temperaments, and <a href="http://whosgotyourgoat.blogspot.com/2010/05/laying-on-of-chins.html">those blessed moments when they welcome you into their world are indescribably magical.</a> There's nothing empirical about it. There are times when we connect on a purely emotional level. Just ask any goatherd. Or any lover of animals. They'll tell you the same.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghptZ-MD0XQdcrY7NIrNN0FvvxyhD5lv32y_YoWe0iDk44o8-9PxSzly81HSeqzYXQZEFEpT7cApROPpRKMpsyn8vki3-1CbL3gZthdnDekukd9gnPGajVmGkEAfVq_qf695DagrsQvbJK/s1600/003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" j8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghptZ-MD0XQdcrY7NIrNN0FvvxyhD5lv32y_YoWe0iDk44o8-9PxSzly81HSeqzYXQZEFEpT7cApROPpRKMpsyn8vki3-1CbL3gZthdnDekukd9gnPGajVmGkEAfVq_qf695DagrsQvbJK/s320/003.jpg" width="302" /></a></div></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>S.Eckerthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03630951405869168215noreply@blogger.com1