Happy Progress

So you know how every time someone says, "You probably can't see it but this slide shows..." and you think to yourself, "Why are you using it if we can't see it?"

Well, you're about to have one of those moments. Because you probably can't see it very well but my spice cabinet looks really fabulous. I mean lovely, warm and welcoming. As welcoming as peppercorns and curry powder can be, that is. And, you probably also can't see it but my lovely mortar and pestle is there in the corner and just makes these beautiful herbs and spices come alive. Bliss.

This is real progress for me. Before the transformation, this cupboard was sticky with molasses and chia seeds and overflowing with multiple baggies - many torn and leaking - of various aromatic substances. It was a huge mess. Now it's pretty. And it makes me happy.

I don't know how many times I've walked into the kitchen and opened the cupboard just to stare at this sight. One more little corner of my world set in order. I love order.

The humongous stainless steel bowl and plastic basin of leftover bottles of duplicate and random spices are tucked in an upper cupboard out of sight where I don't have to see them every day - I can just look at these prettily packaged ones. I can live with that. And I'm content knowing the quart jars of bulk spices are still hanging out under the hutch, too.   Not sure but that I might have a bit of a fixation here. I don't care -- herbs and spices look and smell pretty and we're well prepared to have savory culinary adventures even if in the midst of a zombie apocalypse.

Well, this post went places I hadn't planned.

Oh well.

Love from the farm,
Teri

A Promise

Do you know what this is?

This is an unretouched, uncropped, unvarnished promise.

The promise of shade from the summer sun.

The promise of afternoons spent lying in the grass underneath wide branches.

The promise of leafy treetops and blossoms in the spring.

The promise of little grand baby faces crunching crisp, sweet fruit and Tanner tucking into his favorite dessert.

This is an apple tree.

It's the first fruit tree we've planted on our little farm and it won't be the last.

Because we are going to stay here the rest of our lives and make this place a place the kids and grand kids and their kids always treasure and yearn to return to.

I promise.

Love from the farm,

Teri

Patience

This lone spear will be the sum total of our asparagus harvest this year. That's it. One crisp, delectable spear. See, you plant asparagus the first year, don't harvest it, wait till the following year, don't harvest then either, and then harvest lightly the following year. And then, you only enjoy the harvest if you don't mistakenly assume that snowstorms and freezes kept the growth at bay.

So, while we had more than one sprig mature to eating size this year, the others grew to crazy proportions during the week I didn't check on them and we missed our window. Patience and vigilance required for this tasty crop. Lazy gardeners need not apply.

I will be ordering loads more asparagus starts this week so we can plant the fence line of our property that abuts the alfalfa field and the spears can take advantage of the heavy watering of the hay. We love asparagus and I want hefty crops in years to come. If I order now, then we can all enjoy a nice big bowl of asparagus for dinner.

In 2016.

Mark your calendar.

As I said, patience.

Love from the farm,
Teri

Comfort

With the hard news of the week coming out of Boston and Texas, I'm just feeling a little extra need to comfort and be comforted around here. Prayers, prayers for all those who are hurting, scared, troubled and sad.

And here are three of our four wee barn kittens. Or more accurately , shed kittens. When we took them to the barn we discovered a big white owl in there wreaking havoc on the invading pigeon population and we didn't want to distract him from that much appreciated task. Nor did we want to provide him a furry four-course meal. So off to the shed they went - having them hunt scurrying critters closer to the house is not a bad thing at all.

Wish we had kittens enough for all the children affected by this week's events to cuddle. Cuddling helps.

Much love from the farm,
Teri

Nuts

Reached for the cream cheese- moldy.

Grabbed a yam -- sprouted.

Toasted walnuts it is for brunch.

(See, this is the danger of me being able to post so easily. I'm in danger of driving you all nuts.)

(See what I did there? Tied it all back together? Yep, it's a gift.)

Love from the farm,
Teri

Guess Who Lived?

These guys!

Even this morning it was still really iffy for that little fella there on the left but by midday the little fluff ball was back in the game, hanging with her peeps. (We're going to keep switching pronouns till we've got proof of, well, you know.)

I kind of wish now that I had a picture of the poor sweetie sprawling there looking so near death, so you could see why her recovery is so amazing. But, I couldn't bring myself to take a picture because a) it was such a sad little sight, b) I was worried, and c) we're not much into Henny Penny snuff films around here.

Anyway, the good news is the wee ones survived and have earned the right to some spectacular survivor names. Let's all put our thinking caps on!

Love from the farm,

Teri

What's Up?

It's all about baby love around here right now. We picked up 7 new chicks this week -- so cute! We selected breeds we've found to be good layers and nice to have around.

It's fun to have them chirring and peeping and chirping away in the corner by the stove. For now.

I know it will be about a week before they start to get smelly no matter how many times you change their bedding in a day but until we have an airtight heated shed to nurture these babes, an early start in our house is what they'll be treated to. Thankfully, the days are warm enough to open doors and windows for the blessed cross breeze, Mother Nature's gift to poultry nurturers.

In a reminder that nature is mean sometimes, too, though I was sad to come home to find two missing chicks after my trip to south county today. I found one chirping by my bed and the other laying quietly on my bed. When I walked by our room earlier I thought it was a bone one of the dogs had crawled up onto the bed with. Unless the one I found by the bed has internal bleeding, I think he'll be ok. The other little one we'll have to put down in the morning if she hasn't gotten up and around by then -- she looks broken and I am not holding out much hope, poor babe. We have them basking under the heat lamp and I've tried to coax both to eat and drink. We'll see what transpires.

I'm not sure which dog was the culprit and lesson learned for thinking their lack of interest in the chicks meant they'd leave them be for a few hours.  I should have locked the dogs in a room but simply didn't think about it. Darn it.

We'll see what the morrow brings.

Love from the farm,
Teri