Learning

How oven works

At the end of day one

The view from here

The secret life of Bea

Kraut Countdown--Economies of Scale

Every summer Mom’s sisters made at least one visit to the farm.  Mom would make a big dinner (not lunch, lunch was served between dinner and supper). Usually it was roast beef, boiled or mashed potatoes, whatever fresh vegetables were in season, pickles, homemade bread and pie for dessert. If they timed their visit right, they not only feasted on fresh green beans, corn on the cob,  coleslaw, creamy cucumbers and thick slices of fresh tomatoes, but also went home with a trunk full of produce.  My aunts were delightfully funny, interesting accomplished story-tellers.  I was fascinated with these women who bore traces of Mom in their eyes, voices and gestures.

Mom and I were finishing up the last of the dinner dishes and her sisters had trooped off to "settle their dinner" and inspect the gardens. Yes, gardens plural. 

They were hardly even all in the door when we heard Aunt Lucille exclaim, “Wiiillllmmaaa—did you know you have 47 heads of cabbage in the garden?”  

 “Yeah,” Mom replied, “there were more but the cutworms got them.”

“What are you going to do with all that cabbage?” Aunt Stena asked sternly.

“I guess I’ll have to make a little kraut.”

I think that might have been the year she canned over 80 jars.

Countdown to Krautfest

It's Motofest weekend. While many in our small town will be eating pancakes at the fire hall or attending the car show, we will be having Krautfest. Hands down, no pretense of modesty, my mom made the world's best kraut. Sam, Kent and I are on our own this year. The cabbages are ready. The blades are sharpened on the cutter. Over the next few days, I am going to try to share some more about making kraut with Mom and post some photos of our endeavor. 

The Prodigal Blogger Returns

With stories to tell, photos to share and much catching up to do.

Our sweet Bea is doing well. Sam noticed that every morning she made a beeline ( ha!) for the same spot in the woods. He discovered a well-camouflaged nest of eggs under a gooseberry bush. Which lead to yet another discussion of her reproductive status that went something like this:
Me:  How sad--she's going to all that work for nothing
Sam:  I don't know, there's a lot that goes on here when we're gone all day. There are wood ducks and other ducks passing through.
Me: Conflicted: Infertility vs Anonymous encounters with unknown species. (A bit like last call at the VFW bar)


I had noticed earlier this summer that she was showing signs of being broody

 Hiding in plants.

Then the heat wave hit and she and Karl became obsessed with waiting for a blast of cool air when we opened the door.

We love her.