This Day Is Blown!

Water the asparagus bed?

If I want my eyes gouged out with blowing dirt.

Hang the laundry on the line?

If  I want the remnants of my peeling sunburn blasted off my back.

Dig up the corn patch?

If I want my mouth scoured out with sand.

Clean out the chicken yard?

If I want my hair to split my cheeks with its furious lashing.

Clean your bedroom?

*silence*

*silence*    

*crickets*

Crap.

Blowin' In the Wind

I couldn't figure out why Belle the Weiner Dog was cowering when I tried to let her out this morning, then I looked at the scene from her point of view. The right side of the doorway was framed in stickers from the tumbleweeds that overnight have lodged 5 feet high on the porch. She probably thought she was being sent to do her business in a briar patch.

The wind has begun its annual blow here.

When I was a little girl, I had romantic notions of Spring, where April showers really did bring May flowers. Now, I live where Spring means being excited at the prospect of gardening, then being beaten down by the wind and grit. Where my bright-eyed enthusiasm gives way to wondering how important it really is for the wee plants to get a good start in rich, fertile soil. Because, at the very time when I should be working all that life-giving manure I've been talking about lately into the ground in preparation for planting next month, the wind kicks up and doesn't stop blowing until roughly June.

I guess I'll have to borrow Mike's protective eye gear, put a scarf over my hair ...and mouth... and wait till he's at work to undertake the task of spreading the poo. Because I'm not sure our marriage can survive him witnessing this scene twice.

Love from the farm,
Teri

A Bit O' the Bubbly

'Twas a blustery day today in northeastern Arizona. Just ask my pal Em, who witnessed the car door slamming shut on me as I shrieked like a little girl. I'm sure she was checking to see which appendage was stunted; all I can say is it's time to cut my hair.

Nothing like having a chunk of hair unceremoniously yanked nearly out of my scalp to send me reeling back to 1974 when all the teeth in my head were still babies, my hair was more than halfway down my back, the summer was hot and muggy, and the back window to the station wagon was down. Then it started to rain.

I closed my eyes and tilted my chin up to catch the refreshing cool offered by the rain drops, so I didn't see the window inching up, taking my hair right along with it. Dad wasn't quite as sympathetic as Em when I shrieked lo those many years ago. Remember the shag haircut? Yep, that was my style of choice after that little fiasco. I won't be going the shag route this time, but there's no question that a haircut is on the horizon.

The gale-force winds put the kibosh on our plans for the day, which included trips to the dump (imagine my sorrow at putting that chore off). So, instead, I enjoyed a nice little visit with Aunt Barbara who brought us our onions for the garden. We talked about our gardening and canning plans, admired the beauty and aroma of the pickling spices Mom and I recently ordered, and then I shared with her the laundry soap recipe that we've been using here on the farm for awhile now.

After errands in town and a few chores around here, I made myself a batch of the bubbly brew while I worked on supper this evening. (For those of you who do not have family hailing from the South, "supper" is the word that most of those living to the right of the Mississippi use for "dinner". "Dinner" in the South usually means the mid-day meal. Just a little down home Kentucky trivia for you.)

So, since I teased you once before about my laundry soap recipe, here it is for any intrepid soul who would like to undertake this quirky little task. All I can say is it's septic safe, it gets rid of all manner of farm grunge, and it lasts about 4 months with our family of 6. And, while I used to spend about $20 a box on my beloved Tide with bleach every couple of months, I spent about $7 on the ingredients for the homemade soap when I made my first batch, and that was 3 batches ago. And, I still have enough ingredients remaining for at least 2 more batches. Just a little thrifty and frugal tidbit for you.

Thanks to my sweet friend Tracy for sharing the recipe. And for being a perfectly normal, bra-wearing, makeup-donning person, so I don't feel as though I've gone too far down the backwoods babe route (or if I have, that at least I'm in good company.)

Laundry Soap
1 Bar of Zote soap
1 C Borax
1 C Arm & Hammer Washing Soda
5 Gallon bucket

Put 4 cups of water in a large pot and place on stove over medium-low heat. Grate Zote soap into pot. Heat until soap melts, stirring frequently. (This takes awhile - grab a book or plan to do some deep thinking.)

When the soap is nearly melted, fill the bucket about half full with piping hot tap water. Add melted soap to water and stir briskly (I use a whisk). Stir in Borax and washing soda. Fill bucket the rest of the way with hot water, give it another stir. Cover and let sit undisturbed overnight.

Resulting detergent will be a lumpy, watery gel. If desired, add a few drops of your favorite essential oil.

Use 1/4 c per load.

________________________________________________

Friend Tracy said her sister fills an empty liquid detergent container (like an old Tide bottle) half full of the finished soap mixture, then fills the bottle the rest of the way with water, giving it a good stir with the whisk when mixing initially, and giving it a vigorous shake before using at laundry time. The sister lives on a horse ranch, so her family sports some impressive dirt, yet she maintains that she gets great results with the diluted mixture.

I haven't wanted to mess with funneling the soap into a smaller container so I just use it full-strength from the bucket and have no complaints.

The only drawback of making the soap is that now I don't have an excuse to avoid laundry any longer. With this wind whipping around, I certainly ought to save the energy on the dryer and hang my clothes outside too, if I wanted to be a super thrifty and earth-conscious human being. But, I'm not gonna this month. I'm going to use my dryer until the nighttime temps are consistently above freezing. Hey, I'm cleaning clothes at about a penny a load, if that. - I think I've earned the right to a little (temporarily) extravagant living with a dryer and a Bounce sheet.

Love from the farm,
Teri

Around the Farm

Time for a quick farm and garden report:

First, let me say, just when you think you cannot possibly love your husband any more, he goes and power washes the turkey and duck poo off the front porch and sidewalk and you learn you can love even more. Then he tries to force you to use the kids' bathroom in the morning so he can get first shower and that passion falls back a notch. Ebb and flow, that's what love is all about.

ANYWAY.....

Yesterday, our neighbor mentioned he'd be covering his tomato plants because we are supposed to have a couple frosty nights before it warms up again. So, my friend in farming Emily, me and a few of our yahoos picked all the ripe and ripening tomatoes, covered the most robust plants with the best looking remaining fruit, then picked all the green tomatoes from the uncovered plants. We, again, have a boatload of tomatoes to process. This morning, I went to pull the sheets off the plants because we have 50 mph winds forecasted for the entire day. Since I don't want to come home to the embarrassing spectacle of linens wrapped up in the overhead powerlines again, I figured we better grab the sheets now. Good call - the winds are already high. If Gertie the Goat were wearing her Hannah Montana wig, she'd be a platinum blond windsock in the side yard right now. Already, there are ripples on the duck's wading pool.

All the uncovered tomato plants were crackly and brittle this morning; the covered plants were lush as ever. Thanks, Neighbor Bill, for the heads up on the freeze. Just to be safe, we'll pick the rest of the tomatoes tonight, layer all the greenies in newspaper and let them ripen over the next few months. (I sound like I know what I'm doing, don't I? I've been in PR for nearly 20 years, I can make anyone sound smart.)

With this last picking, the garden has pretty much given up the ghost. We could pamper and protect the beans for a little longer, but seriously, I'm tired of the garden. There, I said it. I'm pooped. I need to recharge over the winter, start browsing seed catalogs in January by the fire, and get excited again. Right now, I'm done. Plus, I'd really like to get a pedicure because I'm sick of snagging the sheets with my rough heels, but I can't justify it if I'm going to keep mucking around in the garden. (In addition to the garden excuse, I've been putting off the pedicure because the top of my foot is still tender and alarmingly crunchy after being stomped by the horses - yes, both of them, same spot - a few weeks back and I'm not sure Redgie would appreciate me reflexively bopping her on the side of the head when she went to massage the smushed foot. Better to wait.)

Oh, we do have our fall lettuce and spinach still growing. Emily got the first pick, we'll take the next, and see if there's anything after that.

We do need to get our garlic planted - time's running out. I'll have to pull deep on the well of resolve to get my hiney out there for that project. But, I love garlic, use a ton of it, and have sorely wished we had it from the garden, so I suppose I'll have to go plant it. Crap.

The animals are doing ok, but we have a big "front of house" operation going on. Literally. The turkeys, duck and goat are all up front, in plain sight for all to encounter. We've become THAT family. My poor mother. She never wished this for me. But, now that the poo is off the porch, I feel a little less concerned about how it looks. I figure, as long as I accessorize, wear make up and avoid screened t-shirts with Tweety Bird or Sponge Bob on them, I can pull this off.

The turkeys walk around all puffed up in "full feather," which is just totally cool. They're really mean to Sadie the dog, though, and I'm sure they'll be fouling the walk again in no time, which feeds my temptation to go ahead and just get them tucked into the freezer in advance of Thanksgiving. The only thing is, I'm really worried how the duck will take it. Yes, I said "duck"; where once we had three, now we have one. And she stands at the turkey pen every morning, staring in through the netting, waiting for them to be released. They don't give a rat's patootie about her, but she can't function without them. I think it's time to move her down to the chicken coop and acquaint her with those girls, so she isn't left forlorn when the turkeys take the trip to the Great Grub Farm in the Sky. I actually cried a little when the boy duck disappeared and she was left to swim alone. I have GOT to get over crying over the critters. Seriously, it gets worse the longer we're at this farming thing.

By the way, I don't feel like much of a farmer these days - the garden's done for the season, the pigs have been butchered, the horses are hanging at the neighbors, and we're just left with the poultry and Gertie the Goat. While I'm happy for the simpler days we'll enjoy this winter, I know I'll be ready for all the spring babies to show up, making us feel like a going operation again. If we had a milk cow, I KNOW I'd feel like a farmer again. Plus, I could quit buying all that hopped up milk, butter and cheese at the store. But, for now, I'm glad to not have to worry about twice a day milkings and making anything more from scratch. Just for now.

Speaking of making things from scratch, with a bunch of little jars of peach jam on the counters, more frozen whole peaches to process, and the apples that will be arriving late October, I'm well on my way to having lots of yummy preserves put up for the year. We'll be thawing the pork we just butchered and canning a bunch of that in the coming weeks, as well. I figure by early November, we'll finally be done with preserving the harvest.

Don't think we're getting lazy around here, though. There are new windows to put in, firewood to be cut and gathered, the garden to till under, the property to clean up and trim back for the winter, the corral and sagging stalls to tear down, the chicken yard to expand, the coop to clean out...ugh, I'm feeling a little nauseous, so I'm going to stop right there.

I think I'm going to go crawl into the tub until the wind stops blowing. Which isn't forecasted to happen until tomorrow. Perfect. And I am NOT going to wonder why Mia the psycho dog is getting fat. I'm not. I'm not going to give it a single thought.

Love from the farm,
Teri

Country Life (Email Classics)

Written March 6, 2009

The wind is blowing and I thought, "Wouldn't it be nice to have that yummy, sunshine-fresh smell in my clothes that you can only get by hanging them on the line outside?"

So I grabbed my outfit from the washer and went out back to hang it. Picture me, eyes clenched tight against the dirt blasting from the garden, blindly groping for the clothespins, then giving up and stupidly opening both eyes and mouth when I couldn't find the dang pins. (For the record, I didn't open my mouth to cuss, but I got it scoured out, anyway! And, I don't know why my mouth opened when my eyes did - must be comical watching me wake in the morning. And here I thought Michael was just grinning all those mornings because he was happy to see me again.)

While trying to spit out the dirt, I proceeded to pin literally 16 pins on the shirt and jeans to make sure they don't fly away. All the while battling the wind and the flapping jeans that are knocking me backward. I'm no sparrow, but I have subsisted on one mug of broth and two mugs of tea for the past 3 days, so I'm a little weak in the knees and I think I sprained my neck.

I'm going to crawl back in bed now and rest until I have to pick up the kids from school.

Love from the farm,
Teri

It's Windy Here (Email Classics)

Written April 25, 2009

I'm not saying being outside today is a bad idea, I'm just saying that the cardboard box on our front porch? It was impaled by a branch that came flying this morning, and 3 inches of that branch were sticking through to the inside of the box.

Now, I'm a sport, you all know that. But I'm figuring today I will NOT do two of the three things I had planned for the day. You guess which two I've crossed off my list:

1) Burn weeds from the house to the barn
2) Spread dry, flaky manure over the garden and new garden expansion area
3) Dishes

I was excited about the weed burning - my neighbor demonstrated how to use the torch yesterday and I was rarin' to go. Mike was a little nervous about my excitement level. He probably prayed for the wind to make sure I'd behave while he's at work today.

Spoil sport.

Guess I better put on my lavender gloves and get going on the dang dishes. I hate when I don't get to play outside with propane-fueled toys. And poop.

Love from the farm,
Teri