Morning Harvest

The beet harvest was long overdue, and the potatoes were on their way out, so, this morning, Finley and I went to the garden to reap what I had sown. I only kept a handful of beets as most of them were too large. We ended up with a substantial sack of potatoes, and I am trying to figure out where to store them. As we don't have a root cellar or cool basement, my options are 1. the pump house (although I'm not sure how cool it stays in there) or 2. deep down in the neighbor's sink hole (would critters get to them?).

 The green beans took me by surprise. I thought I had checked to see if I had any a day or two ago and didn't see any, but obviously, I wasn't looking hard enough. Sneaky ones, those beans are. As we were picking beans, Finley kept telling me we needed to sell them at a farmer's market because we had too many and could make money off them. I told her that we could can them, and that would save us money on the grocery bill, but she wasn't going for it. Obviously, she's not very excited about eating the veggies we are growing.

The weird award of the day goes to this potato.

The Culprit

Yesterday, Finley told me she thought something had killed one our black hens. Black feathers were all over the coop. I went to investigate, and sure enough, just outside the chicken run lay the body of one of my good layers. When I went to pitch her torn-up carcass into the woods, I noticed a couple piles of raccoon scat.

So, last night, I decided to lock all the birds up tight, and after suckering them all into the chicken run with some scratch, determined that three birds in all were missing. I set up a trap with an egg in it just outside the little door the varmint would have used to get into the coop and went to bed.

At 5 a.m., my eyes popped open, and I went to let the birds out and check the trap:

I moved it to a shady spot in the stable to await its fate.

And just for fun, here is a shot of Max after he tore across the yard in early-morning mania and scaled a post by the stable. This is why people should not bother firemen with silly requests to rescue cats.

 

Anti-Pepperoni Pizza

When I discovered we were out of pepperoni, I decided that gave me the right to top the pizza the way I wanted instead of the way I normally feel obligated to top it because of Chris.

So... Summer squash, broccoli, and onion (all from the garden), lightly sauteed in olive oil, garlic salt, and oregano, chopped spinach, mozzarella and Parmesan cheese... Yum.

Building the Chicken Plucker, Part 1

I know. I should have started this as soon as the plucker fingers came in the mail, but I'm not feeling like there is a rush to finish this. The birds I confined to the cage I built don't seem to be growing any faster with the free choice grain than the ranging chickens. I was trying to avoid feeding them the grower crumble they sell at the store in an attempt to keep them as 'natural' as possible, but I don't know...

Anyway, even if these chickens are old and tough by the time they are big enough to warrant the hassle of butchering, we can slow cook or can them in order to make them edible. Or so I hear.

Today was a bit drizzly, so I figured this was a good day to get started. I pulled our old rain barrel from behind the shop, and stared at it for a while, wondering if I could pry the lid off, or if I just needed to cut it off.

 I finally realized there was no way I could get the top off, so I went about figuring out how to cut it up. First problem was to draw a straight line around the barrell. A speed square gave me something I could slide along the underside of the lid, and a notch to hold my Sharpie.

 I also traced a circle on the bottom to cut out the plastic circle I will need to build the feather plate, and another line around the outside to cut off the rest of the bottom. I decided a sawzall would be too crazy to try to cut with, so I used a jigsaw. And I wore safety glasses. Last time I cut a hole in this barrell, a little piece of plastic flew into my eye.

I used a jump rope to figure out the circumference of the barrell, and later, when the kids are in bed, I will plot out where I need to drill all the holes for the plucker fingers.

Backyard Camping, Take 1

I've been promising the kids that we would go camping in the yard for about a year, now. But every time, something (usually some one getting sick) has come up to postpone the event. This weekend seemed promising. The weather looked clear... no rain until Monday. Saturday, we set up the tent, and since I wanted a good day for it to air out, set the actual camp out for Sunday night.

 Sunday, the forecast started showing a chance for thunderstorms overnight, but the the percentages were low, so I thought we'd risk it. Sunday evening, just as I was getting ready for the marshmallow roast, the weather radio announced a tornado watch for the area. We went ahead with the roast.

As the sun set, the lightning bugs came out. I sat on the porch watching the bats flit through the air and listened to the kids' excited voices back at the campsite as they tried to catch the bugs.
About 8 o'clock, we started hearing the rumblings of thunder, and by 8:30, all kids and bedding were inside.

Maybe next time we'll make it through the night.