State of the Farm

What is there to tell you?

We have plenty of frozen chickens looking for bellies to fill.  All but one frozen turkey is claimed.

Garlic planting is truly, abysmally late this year.  There has been too much for James to do and not enough evenings (he and the big kids are in taekwando two nights a week and he teaches at the local college one night a week).  The plan is this weekend.  It's a good thing this year's harvest was beautiful and we have plenty of fresh garlic to enjoy.

Tonight we shifted more chickens.  With hatching new flocks, weeding out the bad in old flocks, and needing to retire a chicken tractor, we've had all kinds of moves.  Four of our oldest hens are now in with the teenagers. Unfortunately, we had to butcher Aragorn, our best rooster, because he was tearing up his ladies.  That's a no-no in a land where roosters are expendable.  Sadly, a juvenile rooster perished shortly after being introduced to his own flock.  I don't know why, since he didn't show signs of injury.  Our oldest chicken tractor will hit the recycle pile this winter, and next spring James will construct a new one.

The summer's downpours did a number on our soil fertility, and I'm not sure how many strawberry plants survived.  They're currently invisible beneath the weeds, and I haven't found a good weeding routine.

The weather is (finally, slightly) cooler.  There's plenty of clean up this fall in preparation for a smaller farm next year.  We may not raise any meat chickens and instead focus on turkeys.  There are big trips in store for next summer, which makes the garden hard to keep.

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

Double Yolker!

Giant egg.  Our bets were that it would be our first double yolker

Sure enough, it was!

I love the adventure of hunting for eggs each day, brown, white, olive, and blue.  Our two of our pullets from our fall batch have started laying white eggs.  Hurrah!

And, if you follow the news about Toeless, she never was incorporated into another coop.  She puts herself up in a dog igloo every night, and we slide a glass window across it for safety.  James calls her Princess and feeds her by hand.  I think we just acquired a pet.  (I'll take it.  She's almost zero maintenance, and she's less annoying to me than a cat or dog.)

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

Friday after Thanksgiving

Yesterday, we spent a splendid day with neighbors and enjoyed our own turkey (fried), mashed Purgatory Ranch potatoes, homemade biscuits and home canned peaches (along with fabulous contributions from our neighbors).  Later in the day, my sister's family joined us.  While we love being with family, I cannot remember a calmer Thanksgiving.  It was beautiful to stay at home the entire day, let the kids run around everywhere, and not need to unpack.  We are grateful beyond measure for God's goodness to us in the past year.

Today, in the vein of being countercultural, James and a friend chopped instead of shopped.  Our Turkens, the original chicken flock at Yahweh Jireh acres, never proved to be a viable layer flock.  They laid well for a few weeks this summer, then quickly fell off.  For the last four to five weeks, we haven't gotten a single egg.  They are expensive to feed through the winter for so little yield, so the eleven hens were butchered today and are already nearly frozen in the freezer.  One rooster is left, and we are hoping to incorporate him into our freedom ranger flock, so maybe Darkest Winter and Soup will not try to kill Toeless when she joins their coop.

I definitely enjoyed spending the day with friends we rarely see, and am grateful to have one more task complete for James before hard winter hits.

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

The More I Learn

and get my hands in the earth, the more I realize how little I know.  Just a few of my ponderings while weeding today...

What is this plant? When viewed from a standing position, the stems look like red and white twine twisted together.

Why are my potatoes so... sprouty? this year?  Looking back, I don't remember so many sprouts per plant.  This second picture perfectly demonstrates.  I'm accustomed to three or four stems in one place, but these are spread out.  Is it something to do with the cold weather?

Speaking of cold weather... Look at how big the potatoes were in APRIL of last year!  We were harvesting by the end of May last year.  Somehow, I don't think that will be the case this year.  We are well more than a month behind in growth.

Back to my ponderings... What is THIS plant?  It secretes a white sap when broken off.

If I were to attempt to grow quinoa for chick feed, must it be rinsed as for human consumption?  (Just wondering... I haven't gotten far enough to bother determining whether or not we even have the right climate.)

Why is my garden having such people-problems this year?  Some of my peas were taken out by tractor wheels.  A late but well-meaning application of compost smothered a section of onions.  Another well-meaning act of tilling took out all my spinach and lettuce.  I can plant in straighter rows at Purgatory Ranch, but any attempt to call my planting "rows" at YJ Acres is a farce.

Will I ever feel like I really know what I'm doing?

Labor

... of various sorts has been transforming life here.

On January 14, the newest member of our family joined us.

On January 19, we began an orchard.  Our almost-a-neighbor tree man is planting a cherry bush, soon to be joined by 7 apples and 2 peaches.

We now call early evening/late afternoon (that time with children that is sometimes called the witching hour) the "bobcat hour," as recently, a bobcat has repeatedly tried to kill our cat.  She is smart, though, and has escaped, although (s)he treed Andromeda once.  We're learning to remember to shut her up in the barn before dark, aka, the bobcat hour.

The weather has been unseasonably warm, and now there are tornado warnings for places to the east and south.  Fortunately, we seem to be confined to possible thunderstorms.  As we could use the rain, bring it on!

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

katie z.

Man's Dignity Through Work

Labor day weekend, for a time if expected laziness, turned out to be full of labor and effort, much to my surprise and pleasure. (I like to have a task list and complete it.)

Saturday, James' truck Grey Dog blew a head gasket, which resulted in James and a neighbor from up the street pushing a dead truck half a mile home. God bless neighbors who help fools like us. After the truck's demise, James and I cleaned out the truck, preparing it for possible repair/disposal. The wagonload of possessions necessitated a plan to clean the garage in the near rather than distant future.

Monday, James cleaned the garage while I weeded, cleared finished garden beds, and tidied the wood pile behind the garage. We are in the midst of removing our compost heaps in favor of less mousy compost barrels. James also completed the awesome task of hanging the ladders on the wall of the garage, protecting them from rot and leaf debris.

After an exciting and unplanned run to the airport, and a delightful, planned excursion to the park with my family, we decided a visit to Purgatory Ranch would round out the long weekend nicely. I had previously proposed that James chop wood while the kids and I pick up sticks, but that AND cleaning out the garage had been deemed too taxing for a day off. Our intention was to enjoy a picnic supper, after which James would fire his Judge.

Upon our arrival to the land we discovered, much to our delight, that the culvert/access onto our land had been completed! The barbed wire fence was still in place, so we could not inaugurate its use, but we were able to admire it. After supper and a stroll to the (still dry and junked) Six Penny Pond, we spied our neighbor to the south, who shall henceforth be called Boomer, waiting for us.

He generously offered the use of his wire clippers, post remover, and post planter (okay, I don't know the actual names for these. I'll ask him next time I see him.). He showed James how to unbend the wire clips holding our saggy baggy barbed wire onto the post. Then he gave James the post remover and James pulled two posts so we could move them to the property line and the other side of the road access. I am amazed at the ingenuity of the inventor of the post planter. The construction, while requiring knowledge for cutting and welding metal pipe, is still uncomplicated but certainly facilitates the replacement of posts.

James also removed a large rock from the middle of the drive (that would have been a "so long oilpan" type of accident). We also marked the location of a tree stump that needs to be removed. We discussed the need for some smoothing of the joint between the new drive and our land. Boomer offered the use of his tractor, but that will have to wait until he has a new tire on it. He patched the tube himself after driving through a field of honey locusts, but didn't have the oomph to put the tire back in place. He told us he had overdone, and James told him next time to call us.

We need to chop/split wood soon. I pray the cool weather holds!

I have lost, somehow in the writing, the sense of work interspersed with friendly conversation and teasing. We have a good neighbor. It's too bad we weren't able to sell our house this summer. Our next venture closer to the land will begin in May. For now, we will have to content ourselves with frequent visits.

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

Peach Salsa

Tuesday was a fabulous day, full of cooler-than-expected weather, easier-than-expected canning, and the company of good friends.

The forecast called for a high of 94, but I'm fairly certain it didn't reach more than 80 outside, cloudy, a little rain.  Perfect for canning, as I had the door open to cool off the kitchen!

12 cups of peaches, prepped the night before

2 1/2 cups of onion, enough for two batches
All these were from our land!

After chopping 36 cups of peaches, 7 1/2 cups of onion, 6 bell peppers, 24 jalapenos, and the rest of our ingredients, Myle and I made 21 pints of peach salsa.  We seemed to run out of liquid, so a jar or two is in the fridge.  I'm still not sure what we did wrong.  If you know, please tell us!  Our ability to time our work better this time meant instead of spending 8-10 hours to make six batches, we only spent 3 1/2 hours!

the finished product

The six kids behaved marvelously, even Bear Cub Q, who is notoriously stuck to me like glue when other kids are around.  He did try to skip his nap, but we went for a drive to take care of that.  He's TOO YOUNG to go nap-free!

We had homemade tomato sauce with pasta and garlic bread for supper (a collaboration between James and I).  James makes great tomato sauce, and the tomatoes we grew!

This summer we haven't done as much canning as we hoped, but it felt good to stock the shelves with the salsa.  It's a great gift and perfect for opening a jar when we have unexpected guests.

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

Beautiful Day

The day began with gentle rain, just sprinkles really, and a beautifully cool air temperature.

We bought peaches straight off a truck from Colorado.  The Screamer already ate a whole one (she's not a great eater, so this is fabulous) and has been begging for more.

A visit to the land, which added only a few miles to our trip, was in order.  I cut open the survivor tomato we had brought home, but the thing was SEEDLESS.  Seedless, I tell you!  Why does it have to be complicated.

The mother plant is grasshopper-mauled, so there were virtually no leaves left.  Of the leaves remaining, most were suckers hidden in the heart of the plant.  We pulled off three suckers to try to root them and grow three new plants.  Also, we picked the last remaining (ripe) tomato in the hopes that it will not follow its sibling and be seedless.

Walking in the cool weather felt glorious.  We visited our neighbor to the south and discussed weather, weeds (we have too many growing in our erstwhile potato patch), old age (his, not ours!), and watched another neighbor back into his mailbox.

Onwards to the work of the day, making pickles with Myle!  She had cut enough pickles for 5 batches of pickles.  We made two, and she was working on more when we left.  Canning is incredibly easier this year, now that we have a better concept of timing and how to prep for the actual canning.

The Assistant tangled with a bike and lost, leaving a bloody trail at Second Hand Ranch, and is now sporting a fat lip, bloody nose, and bum knee.  We met Chocolate Black, a miniscule mouser.

Next week, we should have peach salsa coming out our ears!  I anticipate the challenge with relish.

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

Spring Warm Weather Chores at the House

More onions.  Lettuce, spinach, peas, turnips, fava beans.  Outside planting.

Two tons, give or take, of fresh compost.  Still-manure-smelling compost.  As in, our yard smells a bit "barnyard fresh."  Now spread across beds that await planting.

Packages from the guys in the brown.  Our UPS guy even knows our daughter's name, since she gets so many packages, but lately these have been for me.  Blueberries.  Grapes.  Yum.

Cumin, more lettuce, okra.  Inside planting.  Daily heating and lighting for tomato, pepper, broccoli and tomatillo seedlings.

Bike rides to Sonic.  To Chipotle.  To somewhere, anywhere.

Pumpkin bread made from the second to last pumpkin left from the fall.  Home-ground wheat too.

Plants moved from the basement to the outdoors, to take refuge in the garage when a freeze threatens.  Raspberry, blueberries, grape.  More yum.

Hail and rain at the end of a beautiful evening with friends.

Until next time, remember: this is not paradise.  It's Purgatory Ranch.  Although, frequently, I marvel that paradise will be so much more amazing than these snippets of our lives.

Pictures of the Picnic

This is why we bought the land.

Mmm... homemade whole wheat bread is mighty fine.

Six Penny Pond is still dry.  See the empty water tank?

No words are possible.

Silly Mama!

Someday, this will be home.

My apologies for a slow upload - a possible broken ankle has slowed down life!

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.

Wild and Free