Auction

Today, a house on the air strip north of us had an auction.  It was unfeelingly frigid, so much so that Q and I had to retreat to the van to listen to the auction.  James purchased a tractor to use on the land.  Thus far, he's bought a pressure cooker, coat stand, and chair.

Until next time, remember, this is not paradise, it's Purgatory Ranch.

He Says I'm Crazy...

... but since I'm the one responsible for getting things done when it comes to growing food on the land, I requested that we make a trip to the land today to begin spading the potato bed in order to prepare it for spring.  While I only shoveled a few rows, at least there are that fewer clumps of weeds and hibernating bodies of grubs to deal with next year.

I found one more potato, not sprouted, yummy to eat.  It's James' dinner tonight.

While I was shoveling, James took the kids on a driving tour of the land.

Until next time, remember: this is not paradise.  It's Purgatory Ranch.

katie z.

Final Produce of 2010

On expectation of colder weather, I ventured out to the garden to pick the last fresh greens for the winter: lettuce, pea tendrils, plantain, oregano, rosemary, thyme, parsley, green onion.

More Home Cooking...

On Tuesday, I made chili powder and bone meal.

I dried all the remaining peppers from our garden and my dad, with a result of approximately 2 cups of dried pepper strips.  It's best to use peppers like cayenne or ancho chilis, but I used what I had.  Then I toasted 2 T. cumin seeds.  Finally, the peppers, cumin, 2 T oregano, a dash of paprika (the last of the bottle, or I would have used 1 T) and 2 T garlic powder went into the blender, only to come out (after a minute to settle the powder) as a multi-colored chili powder.  Now to see how spicy it is.  Mmmm...

Bone meal contains excellent amount of phosphorus, so it's used as a fertilizer in the garden.  It's pretty easy to make, just time consuming...

After you've cooked a whole chicken, save the bones.  Simmer the bones with water and veggies (carrots, celery, onions, garlic, a bay leaf, oregano - what sounds good to you?) until it's done.  I put it all in my slow cooker on low overnight.  Then clean any remaining meat, tissue, or fat off the bones.  Spread them out on a cookie sheet and place in the oven at 300 degrees F for 3 hours.  I then put them in a plastic bag and ran over them with my rolling pin.  They were fairly brittle by then, so they broke easily.  Next time, I'll use something more durable than a plastic bag, but it worked for this time, and one less item ended up in the trash.

(We had another house showing yesterday, so say a prayer that we get an offer!)

Until next time, remember, this is not paradise.  It's Purgatory Ranch.

Canning

Isn't the green pretty?  We tried two different colors and amounts of Wilton food coloring.  The prettiest?  Kelly Green, added only in one small dollop rather than two!

I should have posted about our canning exploits this summer, but I didn't.  (c'est la vie, right?)  While the canning took place not on the ranch, it is a skill we want to master in order to live with the ability to make use of all the food we grow.

Today Myle and I made mint jelly while the menfolk took the kids to a playground.  It was a much faster process than our original day-long sticky, hot agony over a few quarts of applesauce.  We're much more efficient, significantly less clumsy, and more confident.  Next year, we'll knock out those apples in no time at all.

Until next time, remember, this is not paradise.  It's Purgatory Ranch.

Hello again!

Last night, our family drove out to the land briefly.  The garlic is growing well, especially considering that there has been little rain and no external assistance since I planted it.

The pond is still dry.  We need to get someone to clean it out!

Until next time, remember, this is not paradise.  It's Purgatory Ranch.

Fall Planting

The kids and I (katie z.) make a fast trip out to the land today, Columbus Day, to plant our fall crops before the appropriate planting window passed.  I suppose, for a handful of bulbs and only an eventual pound or two of crop, it was a waste of gas, but as we may or may not be in our house next summer to harvest from our yard, I wanted to plant out at the land too.

Because James weed-whacked a week ago, and I had hoed some at the time, I have some fairly easy soil to prepare, unlike the men's first tilling this spring.  I dug my patch with a hand-trowel, throwing out a few grubs, and finding that we had missed at least two potato plants in our harvest earlier in the summer. Two potatoes were still edible, but the rest were mushy or moldy.

I mixed in a few handfuls of vegetable fertilizer, then planted garlic bulbs (the biggest heads from this summer's crop) and some multiplier onions that have been waiting on the counter for a month.  Next June, I should have onions and garlic to harvest, barring drought or other drastic events.

Until next time, remember, this is not paradise.  It's Purgatory Ranch.

Six Penny Pond Cleanup, Attempt #1

a Walk to Remember...

Is that a dark red-head I see?  I think he might need a haircut.

"If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer.  Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away."  Walden, Henry David Thoreau.

One day, this will be the view every night.

Canopy Success!

This afternoon, we took my middle brother out to the land for the first time. When he arrived, he asked, "Where's the house?" then laughed. That's my middle brother for you.

We brought out our new canopy & net to set up for the first time, along with camp chairs. What a difference that made! I could lay down on a quilt in the shade and not worry about the tick that bit the Assistant last time we were out (I found it just inside her hairline while we were at the doctor, so the doctor removed it).

James shot at a few rats, and I shot the BB gun for the first time.

The weather was fabulous, and the pond is still dry.

Until next time, remember, this is not paradise. It's Purgatory Ranch.

(I will add pictures when I get them off the camera)

Wild and Free

Heat Wave Broken

We are behind in documenting our visits.

Today, after nearly 2 weeks solid of 100+ temperatures, a storm front delivered a little moisture and significantly cooler weather. We brought our friend Brian, a seminarian who will be a deacon in May (hooray!) to the land. The cooler weather provided a startling contrast to our other visits this summer. No one poured sweat, Q didn't cry in protest that he was too hot, and we could all hike a bit.

Six Penny Pond and the cat-tail watering hole were both dry, with deep cracks perforating the ground. With Six Penny Pond dry, it is easier to see and remove the rusting metal (no, it was Sunday, so we simply talked about it). James shot at the rats that live in the metal.

The trees we planted in the spring are, for the most part, surviving the recent drought. Most still have plenty of green on them, and while there are some dead ones, we are pleasantly surprised by our better-than-average survival rate.

As our house is still not ready to put on the market, we continue to paint and pray and plan.

Until next time, remember, this is not paradise. It's Purgatory Ranch.

Potato Harvest Complete

With a grand total of 130 pounds of potatoes, we did well. We pulled 5 very small bulbs of garlic.

By offering our neighbor to the south some potatoes, we became the recipients of 6 dozen "farm fresh" eggs. Our neighbor is very generous.

Until next time, remember: this is not paradise. It's Purgatory Ranch.

Potatoes!

As of July 4, we have harvested 97 pounds of potatoes. Yum!

Until next time, remember: this is not paradise. It's Purgatory Ranch.

Potato Harvest...

... in the rain.

Yesterday, the family visited the land with my brother, his wife, and their two girls. Our girls slept through most of it.

Since it was raining briskly when we arrived, only I opted to exit the car and soak my clothes in order to dig potatoes. The total yesterday? 16 pounds. I'm just getting started, too, so there may be lots of potatoes in our future. Some are already trying to resprout, so it's time to harvest them.

Until next time, remember: this is not paradise. It's Purgatory Ranch.

Fruit of the Land

Today, the high is forecasted to be 100. We were due for a trip to the land, intending to harvest potatoes for the baptism this weekend, as well as to see if our labor had borne any fruit at all.

Behold, the fruit of the land! From six plants, we harvested 10-12 pounds of potatoes, both Yukon Gold and Purple Viking. The plants-sans-compost are going to have a very poor harvest, but it was a useful lesson for us to learn this year.

I must admit, digging up potatoes is very fun. I enjoy filling the bucket with produce that I have been a part of growing. Of course, it will be a few more weeks before we harvest everything, but I think we will do better than 40 pounds of potatoes grown from 40 pounds planted.

Until next time, remember: this is not paradise. It's Purgatory Ranch.

June 2

I arrived second to the land in the evening, around 7:15. Dan had arrived just moments before, but that's fine as he had the important equipment: a trailer to mow our overgrown paths. A nearby neighbor kindly loaned it (he even brought it and mowed part of the trails). Part of me thinks it would be great fun to have a tractor to drive around, but then the other part of me is reminded of the costs involved and how I want to do more with less... is a tractor in the plans? James arrived a little later with his dad and family, who had never before seen the land. I think it's overgrown state was a little more than they expected.

Then again, Dan almost hitting the van with the trailer was a little more than I was expecting.

We can one again drive to Six Penny Pond and search for the skunk. The saplings have paths around them so the grass competes just a little less.

I managed to weed one more row of potatoes, trying to lay down my weeds as neatly as my dad had on Monday, when he completed a row. The obvious distinction between use of compost and not will continue to be a lesson for me on soil quality. I tend to grow things a bit willy-nilly, attending to weeding and care of the plant more than care of the soil. Not anymore.

Until next time, remember: this is not paradise. It's Purgatory Ranch.

Weeding Duty Take 2

Take 2 of weeding was not particularly successful. James replaced the dead saplings, but due to his goat milking duty, by the time he finished replanting, it was too hot for Q to stand it. He just cried while I attempted to weed. It was time to call it quits.

Dad did go out (God bless him) and weeded an entire row. Just one row consumed nearly an hour of his time.

We will conquer the grass, so we will be back bright and early Monday morning.

Until next time, remember: This is not paradise. It's Purgatory Ranch. (If it were paradise, this wouldn't be the current state of James' shovel.)

Weeding Duty

After a several-week hiatus from visiting the land, James and I took our children out to weed potatoes before a house-hunting expedition.

When you see this, do you keep going, or turn back?

James opted to gun the motor and forge ahead. It's a good thing too, as we had to cross that to reach the potatoes. No, we didn't get stuck. Our neighbor across the way would have laughed to pull us out for a second time since we bought the land.

The potatoes-cum-compost are rocking. They are over 12" high, meaning we need to hill them the next time out. Of course, the weeds are keeping pace. I weeded three rows of the potatoes-sin-compost, although I didn't weed in between the rows. I determined that the potatoes don't need competition, but I'm not about to weed my walking paths (yet). Considering that we thought maybe none of the potatoes were going to make it, this is a beautiful sight.

There are also 6 garlic stalks, so we may be able to harvest some garlic as well by the end of the summer.

We took a tree-inspection tour. The first 300 feet had no dead trees, but after that, we found about 15. Given the inexperience that accompanied tree planting, a 15% mortality rate is excellent. We still have some lilacs in a barrel in our yard in town, and next time we go out, we should take it with us.

Our neighbor across the way thought we were out early for city folk (8:30 am is not early with three small children) and brought us some sugar-packed cereal for the girls that he had received with his newspaper this morning. James visited with him for a while, and I continued weeding. I like the satisfaction of seeing the piles of grass trampled in my wake.

Until next time, remember: This is not paradise. It's Purgatory Ranch.

Momento Mori, Tempus Fugit

The current plans for the Purgatory Ranch are in Limbo. I am sure someday some one with a contrarian love of Wendell Berry will live on Purgatory Ranch working out their salvation in fear and trembling. Please pray that God gives us the grace to see and do His will in all of this.

Even so, there is some hope.

1. The zoning commission (may God grant them wisdom and many years) is ancient compared to our children, whom we hope to live for a long time…on purgatory Ranch. Their decision is not permanent by any stretch of the imagination. As C.S. Lewis wrote, there is deeper magic:

“It means,” said Aslan, “that though the Witch knew the Deep Magic, there is a magic deeper still which she did not know. Her knowledge only goes back to the dawn of time. But if she could have looked a little further back, into the stillness and darkness before Time dawned, she would have read there a different incantation. She would have known that when a willing victim who had committed no treachery was killed in a traitor’s stead, the Table would crack and Death itself would start working backwards.”

2. I still think that it is God’s will that our families opt out of modern agricultural system which belongs in the culture of death’s camp. We must keep in mind that such a secession requires sacrifice and patience. Government subsidy does not count as charity. That truth scans well…against hell.

3. There are homes, ranging from in poor shape to move in ready, but on (smaller) acreages near purgatory ranch. Moreover, we ( K and J) have great Realtor. I will let D. talk about his chances in regard to a new local.

4. Summer is upon us soon. I plan on hiking on Purgatory Ranch this week end.

Through great struggle comes great insight.

Hope by George Watts

Yahweh-yireh

Some time after these events, God put Abraham to the test. He called to him, "Abraham!" "Ready!" he replied. Then God said: "Take your son Isaac, your only one, whom you love, and go to the land of Moriah. There you shall offer him up as a holocaust on a height that I will point out to you."

Early the next morning Abraham saddled his donkey, took with him his son Isaac, and two of his servants as well, and with the wood that he had cut for the holocaust, set out for the place of which God had told him. On the third day Abraham got sight of the place from afar.

Then he said to his servants: "Both of you stay here with the donkey, while the boy and I go on over yonder. We will worship and then come back to you." Thereupon Abraham took the wood for the holocaust and laid it on his son Isaac's shoulders, while he himself carried the fire and the knife. As the two walked on together, Isaac spoke to his father Abraham.

"Father!" he said. "Yes, son," he replied. Isaac continued, "Here are the fire and the wood, but where is the sheep for the holocaust?" "Son," Abraham answered, "God himself will provide the sheep for the holocaust." Then the two continued going forward. When they came to the place of which God had told him, Abraham built an altar there and arranged the wood on it.

Next he tied up his son Isaac, and put him on top of the wood on the altar. Then he reached out and took the knife to slaughter his son. But the LORD'S messenger called to him from heaven, "Abraham, Abraham!" "Yes, Lord," he answered. "Do not lay your hand on the boy," said the messenger. "Do not do the least thing to him. I know now how devoted you are to God, since you did not withhold from me your own beloved son."

As Abraham looked about, he spied a ram caught by its horns in the thicket. So he went and took the ram and offered it up as a holocaust in place of his son. Abraham named the site Yahweh-yireh; hence people now say, "On the mountain the LORD will see."

Again the LORD'S messenger called to Abraham from heaven and said: "I swear by myself, declares the LORD, that because you acted as you did in not withholding from me your beloved son, I will bless you abundantly and make your descendants as countless as the stars of the sky and the sands of the seashore; your descendants shall take possession of the gates of their enemies, and in your descendants all the nations of the earth shall find blessing--all this because you obeyed my command.''

PR vs. The Bureaucrats

This evening, the cruel gauntlet of Bureaucracy smote the collective soul of Purgatory Ranch a mighty blow.

To spare the technical details, PR is not large enough in Nanny County to build two domiciles. It needs to be rezoned and replatted. This evening, in a glorious 5-0 vote, the Planning Board of Nanny County denied our rezoning request. This is a separate procedure from the replatting request which hasn't been made yet. The rezoning was denied on account of the replatting. Assuredly, if they were considering our platting, they would have denied it based on our rezoning. Confused? Yeah.

Here's what I was reminded: don't ever tell anyone with the government any more than the bare minimum to extricate from their grubby clutches what you and you loved one's need to thrive/survive.

We are back to the drawing table. All bets are off, or on as the case may be. Additional purchasing, conniving, and /or groveling may be in order.

As James remarked, following our bitter denial, evidently God wanted us to tweak our plans. After fuming on the drive home, I have accepted this as true. Fiat! I am now eagerly anticipating the dawning moment when the purpose of this obstacle shall be revealed.

Despite the technocratic rebuff, the trees and potatoes continue to grow, and someone someday shall live in Purgatory. Ranch, that is...

--D

This Side of the Eschaton

Yes, Eschaton is a word.

Some wonder at the name of the Land: Purgatory Ranch.

“Wonder is the feeling of a philosopher;
and philosophy begins in wonder” (Plato)

The name is a reminder that nothing, even our ranch, this side of the Eschaton is paradise. Human sin is pervasive and the world, which came to be through him, did not know him.

I believe the naming of the conversation went something like this;

Dan: *complains about some character flaw which will lead to more time in purgatory. * (For the record: it was either about cursing or laziness, which are both flaws that may be at the same time poetic and enjoyable contextually and out of mixed company)

James: *Pointing to land starting with the freshly tilled potato patch* “This is a great place to work off some of that purgatory time”

K: How about Purgatory Ranch?

Dan and James: Gasp

Dan: M, what about Purgatory Ranch?

M: * About 100 yards away with the elder girls, shows two thumbs up*

Purgatory is a Catholic belief, based on Scripture that because nothing unclean can enter Heaven those who die in union with Christ but without perfect contrition must be purged on the temporal consequences of and attachment to sin. “Time” in Purgatory can be worked off here on Earth through prayer and penance.

Ergo, Ora et Lobora!

Visit to the Land

Today we visited the ranch again. James pointed out what a difference a load of compost made, as the potatoes to which he had a chance to add compost were sprouting much more than those without compost. I did find a few garlic sprouts peeking through the grass, but there are plenty of weeds to pull before I reach the garlic.

A drive to Six Penny Pond was made, but James was disappointed as the skunk refused to appear.

Visit to the Land

With James' parents in town for Q's baptism on Sunday, we decided they needed to see the land. I also wanted to check the status of our potatoes. The men had reported sprouts, but I wanted to confirm. I am a doubter by nature...

There had been thunderstorms during the day, with hail called for. On our way out, however, we saw no signs of hail, and there was no rain to dampen our enthusiasm.

Potatoes are sprouting through the returning grass. Our next task will be to weed and hoe (our neighbor chided James for not hoeing better). The east end has more and larger sprouts, and James says that is where he has hoed previously, so it is time to get to work! Garlic sprouts were nonexistent, so either they were eaten or the cloves were bad.

There are plenty of leaves on many of our saplings. To be honest, I feared they would mostly die, so I was greatly relieved to see green shoots, even though many of the saplings are planted too deeply.

We trekked to Six Penny Pond, where James and his stepdad saw a skunk (was it the same Dan shot at?).

Six Penny Pond... or How Many Ways Your Land Could Hurt You

Hi, my name is Dan, and this is my first contribution to the Purgatory Ranch stream of consciousness. This past weekend we tried to clean up the pond. We arrived in the rain, and realized that there was a lot of junk. A LOT OF JUNK. MORE JUNK THAN ANY OF US REMEMBERED. But, at a place named Purgatory, that's what you get.

I'm merely an amateur anthropologist, but I do have some preliminary findings. The previous denizens enjoyed Canadian Mist, Fords, and lived in a trailer. Nothing more could be divined.

We set to it, endeavoring to make a dent in the pile, whilst having no way to haul more than a Toyota pickup bed's worth of the sundry. Piece by piece, metal panels, skirting, and debris was peeled out of the vegetation and muck and hauled to the pasture for removal at some later date. A snake was discovered, and dispatched with a shovel. Species was unknown, but no herpetologist being present, it was left to the laymen with predictable results. The digging renewed for about 5 minutes before the previously minute field mouse droppings gave way for a large pile of very fresh scat under the lip of an unearthed panel. My father, being a bit of a poop expert took heed, and carefully peeled the panel up to meet a new friend, a fully grown and extremely feisty skunk. Several things happened at once:

1. My father yelled "Skunk! ^$&%! Skunk! Shoot it!"
2. The young person enlisted from a sheltered urban lifestyle to help us, began to reconsider her decision to volunteer.
3. James began to move rapidly in the opposite direction, arms flailing, yelling, and I quote: "AAAAAAIIIYYEEEEEEE, SKUUUNNNNKKK, RUN!!!! AAARRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGHHH!"
4. Skunk hissed, exited burrow, tail pointed to the heavens, and began to amble southward through the junk pile.
5. Wasting a few moments to let it the skunk get out of stank range, .40 S&W rounds began to move downrange furiously.
6. Junk and pond was ventilated, but unknown damage to intended victim.

In the aftermath, there was some disagreement to the actual series of events. The last round MIGHT have found its mark, as the skunk was not seen or heard from again, and a repugnant aroma filled the area.

James swears he was protecting us, and could not go fisticuffs with the villainous mammal since his wife has a sensitive nose.

Shaking, and ears ringing, we went back to work, having stripped the ground down to a metal box spring bed entwined within volunteer saplings in the pond proper. A dangerous exhibition of the power of the laws of physics was about to commence.

On one side of this match of mettle and grit: Grey Dog (Old Toyota Truck) with James at the helm, armed with his "C-130" tow strap, a come-along, and the sheer power of determination. On the other, a bed, a tree, a pond, and Murphy.

ROUND ONE:
I tried to take the easy way out, seeing the dangerous game of brinksmanship now being threatened. I tried to simply come-along the bed up and over the tree. Not a chance.

ROUND TWO:
Grey Dog takes up the slack, James punches it into 4-LO and mashes the accelerator. However, the strap had been hooked to a simple Eye-hook, which immediately and spectacularly fails. We give pause for a post-mortem. Thankfully the strap and come-along are intact. So is the bed and the trees' death grip.

ROUND THREE
Now we're serious. The come-along goes away, replaced by a receiver hitch with a shackle. Once again, Grey Dog leaps forward. And the vaunted strap gives up the ghost. The spectators regroup.

ROUND FOUR
Grey Dog backs in, this time with a huge towing strap, twice as wide as the previous casualty. Attached to the frame of the bed, this will surely work! We step back, a little farther than before. A fiery gleam takes James eyes. He will not fail. He revs the engine, and throws the clutch. Grey Dog strains, the bed groans, and Murphy takes his cue. The hardware plate that had been our anchor point snaps free of the frame and comes back up the hill at Mach 3 with a vengeful shriek, cataulted by the tension of the huge strap. It puts a large dent on the bumper. A hush falls over the land. Grey Dog hisses and clutch fluid smokes.

ROUND FIVE
The strap is attached to the frame and the shackle. We have learned from all previous attempts. Grey Dog surges and the bed is freed from its watery prison. James is victorious!

Somehow in the midst of all of this mayhem, I find an old encrusted Bulova watch valise. Opening it and shaking out the hundreds of ants that have taken up residence, I find six grimy, tarnished pennies. All are from the 60's and 50's, with one wheat penny to boot. Purgatory Ranch is already repaying us for our labors. Henceforth I dub the watershed, "Six Penny Pond"and James the "Towmaster". I consider us lucky to have shared the experience. A lot of work remains, but at least we know what we're up against! I just pray the skunk does not have it's revenge...

April 18, 2010

The men tried to clean out the pond today. I still need to get the full story, as I read there was a skunk involved, but James said nothing about that. Hmmm...

The pond has a name... Six Penny Pond.

Planting Saplings

I'll let one of the men give the details, but yesterday we spent the day planing most of our 150 saplings. Too bad the girls who helped got confused on which were oak, hackberry, plum, mulberry, etc. Oops.

Prayer in Times of Trouble

Oremus.

Ne dispicias, omnipotens Deus,

populum tuum in afflictione clamantem:

sed propter gloriam nominis tui,

tribulatis succurre placatus.

Per Dominum.

Let us pray.

Despise not Thy people,

O Almighty God,

when they cry out in their affliction,

but graciously succour them in their tribulation,

for the glory of Thy Name.

Through Our Lord Jesus Christ, Thy Son,

who liveth and reigneth with Thee,

in the unity ofthe Holy Ghost,

for ever and ever. Amen.

(Collect for Times of Trouble or Sore Distress)

Seedlings: Update

In an effort to prolong the time we have until being forced to plant 150 seedlings, James and I spent the afternoon heeling in the saplings in our garden beds at our house. This should buy us at least a week, if not two or three, before they MUST be planted on the land. That should give me time to have a baby without worrying about all these other babies dying.

We have American Plum, Native Pecan, Bur Oak, Mulberry, Lilac, and Hackberry, 25 of each. The pecans look like twigs, and the hackberries have well developed roots. It will be fascinating to see what grows best (and what the rabbits eat).

March 27

The men went to the land on the 27th to haul mulch. James says every time they get together lately, it involves a shovel and 4-wheel drive!

Seedlings!

Today, 150 seedlings arrived on our porch. These are destined for the land, but we weren't quite prepared for them today.

They are to be kept from freezing, but we are still 5 weeks away from our last frost date. They should be planted soon, but I am due to have my own baby any day.

This could get interesting.

Dan will upload some pictures from the land on the first day of "Spring".

Zoning Meeting

Last night, we met to discuss how to divide our land in a quest for rezoning. The end goal is to build two single-family dwellings, but current zoning allows only one house.

Trying to discuss plans about the future and the state of the economy is difficult with six kid screaming.

--Notes on Purgatory Ranch