Planting Corn

Drew and Mimi planting corn. This view shows the house in proximity.

Gardner has been asking me since we first planted seeds this year, in February, when it would be time to plant corn. Each time we planted more seeds, he would ask me, "Is it time to plant corn yet?" Each time I would explain that we had to wait until the nights warmed up reliably, and there was no danger of frost. I said if we planted too early, we would risk the corn dying or not growing right. Finally, the nights are as warm as they get here, and we moved on this project today, so we could finish it before we leave on our Yosemite vacation.

In the spot where we once had a giant scotch broom berm and hedge, and where we subsequently re-contoured the land to create two terraces on the east side of the house, Drew tractor tilled the earth and added several scoops of manure and oyster shell flour to prepare the space for corn. We also planted sunflowers and bush beans, and I've also got a few extra pumpkin starts, as well as some marigolds I wasn't sure what to do with that will go in there.

The straw bale garden isn't well suited to crops like corn, which needs a lot of food and space to grow roots. Corn also likes being grown in a block, for optimal pollination. We've never had a corn bed this size that allowed for good pollination. The further benefit of placing corn in this spot is that, if successful, the corn patch will help block wind into the rest of the yard. I have a long-term vision of planting raspberries, blueberries, artichokes, and bamboo in this spot, so an annual vegetable project will give us an idea of what that would be like, to have a permanent terrace garden at about the same height.

For now, we hope the direct sow will be successful. We don't often grow vegetables this way, due to gopher pressure, symphylans (soil pest), wind, and cold nighttime temps which make getting started difficult. I usually start my corn in flats and transplant out once they are about 4 inches high. But this patch is too big for that. This is also the first time we've used a tractor tiller to prepare a bed. It sure did go fast! I could get used to that. 

This may pave the way for similar projects in the "old" garden area, which is now dormant. We've discussed doing some light tractor farming in that area, to grow cow food, or vegetables, or maybe we will convert it to almond orchard expansion. Who knows? We are committed to letting the land guide us, and inform our decisions. For now, an experiment has been started, and we're looking forward to seeing what happens!

Mimi and Drew planting three kinds of corn

Straw Bale Garden Update

Transplants in the bale bed

My second round of bales have been ready to plant for a bit, and I finally blended bale readiness with plant readiness and plugged in my stuff over the weekend. Broccoli, kale, cabbage, cauliflower, bok choi, and lettuce. You just poke a hole, and take out some straw if needed for the size of the seedling, and back fill with a little potting soil. I think the plants are looking rather happy. 

The other row of bales, where I planted seeds, are not doing as well. I direct sowed a selection of spring crops: mostly peas, but radishes, carrots, beets, spinach, arugula. The peas have done ok, though the germination was spotty. The spinach seed apparently wasn't any good, because none of them came up. A few beets and carrots, have emerged, and the arugula has also, but it doesn't seem to be growing. I'm not sure if this is the bales, the weather, or the mechanical difficulties with the floating row cover and how the wind can whip that stuff around and maybe bother the seedlings. This method is supposed to allow covering your bale row with greenhouse plastic, but I think our wind is too strong for this. Anyhow, I'm interested to see how all this goes. 

I also stuck a strawberry crown into the side of one of the bales, as an experiment. Our strawberry bed is ready to get torn up, and the crowns need to be thinned anyway, so I'm hopeful that they will love growing in the sides of the bales, and I can grow them all around the edges.

It's been several years since I successfully grew a spring brassica garden, so I'm hopeful and excited to see how this all turns out.

The direct-sow bed, with peas growing

Stinging Nettle Pesto

Tonight's dinner: Cabbage noodles with stinging nettle pesto, miner's lettuce salad with lemon-mustard viniagrette, and grilled grass-fed local beef with lime garlic rub...mmmmm.

About a year and a half ago, I embarked on a new food journey. I wasn't happy with my health or weight, and someone recommended the blog of Maria Emmerich, called Keto Adapted. I did some reading, and was very intrigued with her perspective, and the results her clients claimed. So I dove in, headlong.

The basic idea is to eat a high fat, moderate protein, and low-carb diet, and this is supposed to put your body in nutritional ketosis, a state where your body burns fat for energy instead of carbs. Maria's blog is full of delicious and delightful dishes, as well as keto-adapted takes on standards, such as stroganoff, or granola. It has totally changed the way I eat, and in general, I feel a lot better than I did when I began, and I lost about 15 pounds to boot. I've since then also explored the Paleo philosophy, and found a lot of really interesting reading about how humans are meant to eat and live.

Recently, my daughter Ella has become fascinated with natural history and indigenous living traditions. She is curious about edible plants and mushrooms, and interested in how to build her own bow, wants to hunt animals with snares, make fire with a hand drill, and build debris huts and live in the woods with only a knife and a pot. Drew and I are so thrilled with this development, because we are both very interested in the same skills, and have each, on our own terms, spent time in our lives studying the natural world.

Last year, Drew carved a trail through our unique and unusual swamp, that lies down the hill from the yurt. Before then, this area was impenetrable. Now, there's a quite pleasant little walk one can take, even with the kids. Yesterday, Drew and Ella did some woods clean up on part of this walk, and created the beginnings of a little wilderness camp, where Ella is planning to carry out her survivalist experience. Today, she wanted to go back down there to work on fire drills, and also harvest wild edibles. I'm always into that idea.

We collected cattails tubers and stems from the marsh (Typha latifolia), though I'm actually quite inexperienced in how to make use of this plant. We then collected a large bunch of stinging nettles (Urtica dioica), and some miner's lettuce (Claytonia perfoliata) to use in our dinner. I also collected some chickweed (Stellaria media) because I wanted Ella to know the plant. While we were doing our walkabout, we managed to sneak up on some deer, who didn't notice us for a while, until our little dog dashed across the meadow!

Once home, I steamed the nettles to prepare my nettle pesto, and cleaned the miner's lettuce and added some sliced avocado for a salad. I cooked up some home-grown cabbage "noodles" for my low carb noodle portion (Drew and the kids had regular noodles), made some dressing, and we grilled some grass-fed T-bone steak that was grown across the creek on our neighbor's land. Now that's "paleo".

Stinging Nettle Pesto Recipe
~ 4 cups, loosely packed, nettle leaves, steamed
2 cloves garlic
2 cups walnuts
generous salt
olive oil

Mill the walnuts, garlic, and salt in the food processor until the walnuts form almost a paste. Add the steamed nettles, and pulse until well mixed. Add olive oil to create your desired pesto consistency. Add to the pasta of your choice and enjoy.

Paying Forward Pays Dividends

Gardner drums on our giant head of winter cabbage.

Our winter garden didn't amount to much last year. We got everything in at the perfect moment, the plants did great, and then, the deer got into the garden a week later, and ate all the brussels sprouts, most of the broccoli, and half of the cauliflower, and then gophers consumed about half of the cabbage plants.

However, we still have some cabbage! These are an awesome winter cabbage called January King (from Territorial Seed Company). I love the winter garden for this reason. If you can thread the gauntlet of predators, storms, and frost, you come out in spring with fresh food, when nothing else is growing yet.

Here comes coleslaw!

A Little Nature Walk

Today, Ella and I took part in the Great Back Yard Count, a bird-counting event that gathers bird data from all over the world for the same four days. We had a lot of fun on our all-day-long hike in Mill Creek Forest, and looking for birds in our yard. But before I even knew about this event, I went birding for the first time in forever yesterday, because my daughter was playing with a friend, and my son is away for the weekend with dad (yay DAD!). Here's what I wrote about my little walk:

Dropped right into owl eyes/deer ears meditation, immediately became very sensitive and seeing birds far away. First critter: red-shafted flicker at the top of a tree by the yurt, calling, another answers across the creek.

Moving on, moving slowly. Thought something moved in brush near spring trail. Couldn't decide which way to go, was called to marsh trail instead. Saw a bird dive at the entrance. Approached quietly. Noticed flying insects all over willow tree. Closer look revealed many small flies drinking nectar from new willow catkin flowers. A few varieties of flies. Who knew flies pollinated willows? Entered marsh trail. Pause. Sparrows in blackberry thicket by entrance, the one I saw before. Wait and observe. After a few minutes of stillness, they showed themselves to me, complaining: white-crowned sparrow. A pair. Waiting.

Suddenly, I see something. I turn slowly to look closer, a rabbit! Darting back and forth, as if it can't decide what to do! And then it dashes across the path ahead of me, down into the stinging nettle. Soon after, Poblano (my little dog) comes along sniffing excitedly. That rabbit gave him the slip! Smile and wait. Ahhh, this must be who is browsing on the marsh plants...many of them are clipped off, leaving a simple stem with no leaf.

I notice several cattail heads have their fluff all pulled apart (bird nest fluff?) Hear sparrow song up top, unknown species. Move a little farther in, and pause and wait. More sparrows. Watching a blackberry thicket. Wow, there's a bird moving in there, turn my head slowly, it's preening, maybe it doesn't see me, it looks sleepy, like it might just close its eyes and doze off. I am 4 feet away. It's some kind of wren! Maybe the marsh wren? I've never seen this bird before.

Moving on, I sit down for a few minutes. Pause. Up again. Notice 1 or 2 squirrel nests (?) in tall creek alders, and maybe a bird nest near to them, something flatter with lots of sticks in treetops. Walk a little further and pause. Wait. Minutes of stillness. A woodpecker. I had heard drumming. This little guy (or girl) downy woodpecker fed in mid-treetops, not too concerned about me. I take a good look in the binos. Then I move ahead, a good view down toward the creek to a flat with good cover for ground birds. Waited. Several minutes. Heard two unfamiliar birds companion calling. Finally got a look, not sure who? Ground feeder, hopping like a towhee, but not a towhee, a sparrow? Maybe hermit thrush? Around now, varied thrush also wanted to see what was up, so perched up higher to see me, then flew away toward the wolf tree.

While I was observing this, a western grey squirrel came along, traveling upstream in the trees. Downy woodpecker moved out of the way, then went back to feeding. Spent some time @ the wolf tree. Up hill to lower meadow. Startled more sparrows, and quail sentinel warned everyone before I emerged. I startled this covey last week during the storm on my dusk walk through the same location). I stopped and waited and hoped for a return to baseline, but a towhee dives out of a bush near me and flies away in a worry. Other birds too. On my way up the hill, another wren! 2 in one day!

Also, raven, turkey vulture, song sparrow, robin, stellar's jay, and red-tail hawk call. Deer tracks.

It's amazing how if you arrive in calmness, and settle and wait, in stillness, the forest comes back to life quickly, and amazing things happen. That was the single most amazing nature walk I've ever taken, by the sheer number of small successes, and the rewards of patience paying off.

Giving Thanks

So many things to be thankful for, not least of which is getting a moment to post again on my blog! Geez! It's already been a month!

Usually, we spend Thanksgiving with my aunt and uncle, who are kind of like parents to me, and are definitely grandparents to my kids. We have spent all but a few Thanksgiving's together for about 20 years now. But this year, I felt excited to host Thanksgiving in my own home for the first time, so we stayed home and invited people over. We had a very nice gathering with Drew's mom, as well as several community members we love. We all had a great time.

I definitely feel so grateful for the space of this house that I can host such a party with such ease! I'm grateful for my family, and the safe passage into life of our newest member, Gardner, who daily reminds me to be patient and unconditionally loving. I am so grateful for my husband, Drew, who I am so proud of for his deep training in and commitment to Aikido, the Art of Peace, which indelibly shapes who he is. I am thankful for my daughter Ella, who's strength of spirit and boundless energy remind me to live a little bit more each day. I'm thankful for the rest of my family, for knowing they are near me energetically, and that they love and support me, even if they are far away.

I'm thankful for our community here, for all it's quirks and all its ordinary and extra-ordinary grandeur. I'm thankful for helpful and loving neighbors, for like-minded families that raise kids together, for unsurpassable natural beauty all around us, for abundance of soil and rain and homegrown food, for the salmon that still return, and for our comfortable house.

I'm thankful for my health and for the continuous opportunity to grow in my understanding of myself.

May we always enjoy such abundance of things to be thankful for, and accept them with grace...

Happy Halloween

This year, Ella wanted to be a "Tiger-Faced Koala Bear". So there you have it...

Happy Halloween!

Honor and love your dead, leave a little food out tomorrow night, their favorites, on Day of the Dead.

Comfort Food Recipes

As the season is winding down towards the winter solstice, and the garden is wrapping up its delights, and putting them away until next season, I am craving comfort foods: casseroles, warm soups, easy-to-chew things that are sweet and nourishing.

Last night's meal was a pesto-eggplant lasagne. Oh, it was good, so I thought I should post the recipe so others can enjoy it.

Pesto-Eggplant Lasagne

Ingredients:

1 package lasagne noodles

2 roasted eggplants (see instructions below)

1 recipe basil pesto (see instructions below)

1 recipe red sauce (or a jar of prepared tomato sauce)

2 large balls fresh mozarella

3 large slicing tomatoes for topping

Begin by roasting your eggplant.

2 medium globe eggplant

olive oil

salt

pepper

Preheat your oven to 400F or so. Oil a baking sheet. Slice your globe eggplants into rounds about 1/4 inch thick. Brush them all heartily with olive oil. Sprinkle with salt and pepper to taste. Bake about 15-20 minutes one side, then flip over and keep baking until they are very soft and lightly brown.

While that is roasting, make your pesto. You will need:

4 cups packed basil leaves

1-2 cloves garlic, pressed

1-2 Tbsp pine nuts or sunflower seeds

3/4 cups extra virgin olive oil

1/4 tsp salt

1/3 cup freshly grated Parmaggiano Reggiano

Place all but the cheese in the bowl of a food processor and pulse until smooth. Add in the cheese and set aside.

Next, make your Ricotta Custard:

1 15-oz. container of ricotta cheese

2 eggs

salt and pepper to taste

Beat the cheese and eggs together, and season with salt and pepper. Set aside.

NOW, if you are a superstar, you could make your own tomato sauce: Here's my favorite way:

Tomato Sauce

1.5 lbs sauce tomatoes, pureed in a food processor, or finely chopped

1 onion, finely diced

ground beef (optional)

3 cloves garlic

2 bell peppers

1 med. zucchini

herbs of your choice (basil, thyme, oregano, rosemary, sage, whatever you like)

1 cup of dry red wine (merlot or cabernet, for example)

bay leaf

olive oil

salt and pepper

Saute onions well in olive oil (10-12 minutes) over medium heat till very soft. If using meat, add now and stir until cooked. Add herbs, peppers, and zucchini, and saute until beginning to soften. Turn up the heat to high, and pitch the wine. Simmer until reduced by half, and then turn down the heat and add the pureed tomatoes and bay leaf. Cover and simmer as long as you like over low heat, to combine the flavors.

Assembling the Lasagne

Now that you've got all your components, begin your assembly. Scoop some sauce into the bottom of a 9x13 baking dish. Smear ricotta custard onto DRY (uncooked) lasagne noodles and lay into the pan in a layer. Cover with the roasted eggplant rounds. Cover with a layer of pesto. Lay another layer of noodles smeared with ricotta over top. Add more red sauce. Add another layer of noodles. Top with fresh mozarella, sliced, and fresh tomato rounds, if you've got them. COVER, and bake in a 375 F oven for about an hour. Serve with a green salad with balsamic vinaigrette, and listen to the comforting ooo's and ahhhh's around your table.

Big Rain Falling

East Mill Creek Raging



The Mattole Flows Straight Out the Estuary



Mainstem Mattole at the Foot of Moore Hill, @ ~ 14,000 cubic feet per second


Today is day three of heavy rain pelting the thin fabric of our yurt roof. The first day, Drew and I were in town on our first ever night away from Ella together, while Andrea held down the fort at home. Of course the tarp blew off the firewood. And she ran out of propane in the stove. But they stayed warm, and had a lot of fun visiting with friends.

Drew and I came home yesterday to ominous skies, ponding water in low-lying areas, and strong, gale-force beach winds. We stepped out of the car to feel those gusts on our trip home, and couldn't look into the high tide spray foaming up from the beach below the road. It seemed that if we jumped, we might just fly away like a kite. But it wasn't raining. The sky held for several more hours, but then opened up sometime after we went to bed.

It's been several years since we had a night like last night in the yurt. Howling winds rattled and shook the yurt, as strongly as when the earth was shaking last week. Only it happened every 20 minutes or so. The rain was always steady-hard, but sometimes so hard Drew and I couldn't hear each other, even though we were right next to each other in bed. Sometimes the hail came down. There was even some thunder and lightening. It felt much like being on a boat, no escape from the elements, even though we were inside. The back of my shoulders crept up and cringed a little, as the rain intensity ramped up. There is a distinct feeling that the roof of the yurt might rip off suddenly, or who knows what else. Like there is some giant and angry but unseen mother-nature monster thrashing about wildly, thoughtlessly swinging her arms around. I kept hoping we would chance to stay out of her way. The strength of it all is mind boggling. And just when you think it can't rain any harder, it opens up the throttle some more, and let's us have it.

As would be expected, the rivers and creeks are big today, and though the rain let up for a few hours this morning, and we even saw a peek of sun, it is pouring down rain again now. I hear we may have a break this weekend, but for now, it's recurring powerful rains, raising the river stage, and creating much excitement.

Looks Like We're in for It

This image is predicting 12-14 inches of rain in the next 16 days. The last time we had rain totals like this, the river was lapping at my front door at my Old Coast Wagon Road house.


I just caught word that a severe, El Nino-style wet weather period is setting up, the likes of which haven't been seen here since at least 1996-97 New Year. In fact, the way they talk about it on Weather West, Weather and Climate Discussions for California and the Western US, it sounds like it at least has the potential to create heavy rainfall for several weeks in a row, and even the potential for widespread, dangerous flooding.

The prediction of possible rain-on-snow events is reminding me of 1964, the year in which gigantic flooding unraveled our county. We are still dealing with some of the effects of this one flood event. Our creeks and rivers have the general shape they have now due to extremely high flows, which haven't been seen since. Visitors to the Eel River area have maybe seen signs stating "High Water 1964" at certain locations of Hwy 101. It's difficult to even fathom the Eel being so deep, and easy to imagine the devastation from such a flow. For those who have never seen them, the markers are usually about 8-10 feet above the roadway, which in places is maybe 30-40 feet above the average winter flow level of the river. Really.

We are preparing to leave our little valley for our annual winter walkabout, though if things unfold how they're predicted, it's possible we won't even be able to leave the valley. Sometimes, in large storm events, both exits from the valley close. It's particularly interesting to consider these effects given our 6.5 earthquake last week. Hmmm. We may not be going anywhere.

So, get outside and enjoy the non-rainy skies for another day or so, batten down any unsecured hatches, move the firewood pile indoors, do your road work, check your culverts, mulch your bare land, put away your tools, and say a little prayer that all turns out well. May it be amazing, and safe for all.

Ringing in the New Year

Many holiday parties later, we are now poised on the edge of 2010. What a year 2009 has been for our family! Sometimes, I go a few days without visiting our new house, and then I go wander through the rooms, and marvel at all we have created. And at the end of this giant push of energy, we still like each other, and have a nice energy going between the three of us. I think that may have something to do with Karl's presence, balancing out our energies. Thanks for helping preserve our marriage, Karl :)

The photo I post today is the output from my new exciting photography tool, Photomatix. I took this photo of Apple Tree Ridge, looking to the north from our property, on a lovely, post-drizzley June evening, when the grasses were in full bloom, the hills were still green, and the scotch broom was blooming bright yellow. I can hardly wait to play with this software some more, if only the rain would let up. (I need to get out and shoot some new photos) Photomatix is software that lets you digitally crunch together multiple exposures, so that you can get landscape photos that have the correct exposure in the shadows, highlights, and midtones. How come no one ever TOLD me about this yet?! This is just a sample of what's to come. This photo is the only series I've yet taken with a tripod, which makes the results a lot better. Expect even more dazzling images in the new year. I can't wait to explore the edges of this!

Solstice-Birthday-New Year

It's been an appropriately moist late December, as we've rolled into the holiday merry-making. We've had a school program, a white elephant party, the Volunteer Fire Department Christmas party, my birthday, and the solstice gathering to come tonight, yet another Christmas party on Wednesday, and tomorrow night, caroling. And we have yet to celebrate Christmas with Drew's family, too. Lots of gathering together.

I've been reflecting on what all this gathering is about. It seems that the solar/pagan holiday of solstice has been divided into several Christian-related celebrations, but really what it's about is reflecting on the year just past, honoring those we appreciate by offering small gifts of appreciation (while simultaneously practicing the spirit of generosity and giving), and considering what we would like to cultivate in the coming year, either in our outward or inward life. I love this meditation! It is extra significant for me, as I celebrate my birthday the day before solstice.

So this year as the light rounds the bend and begins to rise in this sky again, bringing longer days, I am grateful for my family, and all the progress we've made on our house this year. I'm so grateful that I have so many dear friends who support and love me. I've made some great healing work this year, both assisting others, as well as looking inward to move old stuck energy out of the way.

Yesterday on my birthday, while wondering what focus I wanted to choose, I received the answer, "COURAGE". So this year shall be the Year of Courage. As in, a year-long meditation on what it means to choose the path that creates a greater state of balance, even if it feels harder or uglier in the moment. It involves honesty, and choosing personal integrity. No easy thing. But I'm looking forward to it.

So many blessings to you all in this darkest, reflective time of year. May you each find the appropriate path for your year, and feel blessed by all you received this previous year. May we all see each other as our higher selves.

Real Rain

At last, today, we are having a true rain event. There have certainly been bigger and heavier ones before, but take a look at this radar image from the National Weather Service...



All that yellow and red stuff is HEAVY RAIN falling right on top of us!

After a nice drizzle-y morning, things have turned to earnest rain, allowing our fresh road gravel to get watered in, giving the newly MRC-planted fir trees a drink, and I suspect bringing the water in the creek up. It does make yurt living a little loud, but since I'm going to work in a moment, that doesn't bother me so much. Besides, when it's been so long since we've had the real stuff, I admit to a feeling of excitement when that rain pounds the tent roof we dwell under. Here's to running rivers and happy frogs...

Snow at Sea Level

On Sunday night, Drew and I were awake in bed talking, while Ella snored away beside us. Being in a yurt, we are privy to each and every nuance of precipitation that passes this way, cringing when the winds pepper the sides with rain, and dozing off when the light, wispy, misty rains fall. In our talking, we didn't notice right away, but a moment after it began, Drew said, "That doesn't sound like rain." I agreed, and Drew said he wanted to have a look. So we grabbed flashlights, descended the creaky ladder, and opened the door of the mudroom out to the north.

AH! Our breath caught in our throats, as we saw with our own eyes that it was, indeed, SNOWING. I suppose it's really not such a big deal. It wasn't really more than a light dusting. We definitely see it on the ridges surrounding our home at least once a year. But it is a little unusual (though not unheard of) to have snow down here at our lowly elevation. It's so unusual that I found myself feeling the thrill of the first snow of the season that I remember when I was a kid. For those of you growing up in many snow-free California locales, this won't mean much for you. But for those of you who lived in snow country, the first snowfall was like magic, speaking of exciting things to come: snowed out school days! sled riding! snowmen! mom making hot cocoa! snow boots! ice skating! and white christmas! Bonus points for that.

We are still in our little cold snap here, with lows in the 20's the last several nights, and daytime highs in the 40s. We've had to keep the water running at night to prevent broken pipes and so we can have kitchen water in the morning before the day thaws. I've had to scrape the car windshield to take Ella to school. The cats are very unhappy. And we've been running the woodstove most of the time. But I have to admit that it feels kind of nice, encouraging a cozying up inside the house, drinking tea and reading a good book. Our mild winters here in California kind of cheat us out of the purpose of winter, to hole up and reflect on the year that has just passed. Normally, it's not nasty enough outside to warrant retreating indoors, and we feel guilty snuggling in slippers and scarves, because there is so much to be done. I mean, what about all the stuff we were too busy to handle in the summer?

So here's to snow and cold, frosty night, and to each of you who will hibernate a little, and enjoy the memories of your past year.

The Larder

I seem to be having difficulty regularly posting here. It's largely due to the new habits of my three-year-old. She no longer naps in the afternoons, leaving me without my mid-day space out, web-surfing moment, in which I have written a lot of my posts. I also used to write a lot after she went to bed, or even in the evening while she was playing with her dad, but the computer is now occupied with her nightly obsession with Angelina Ballerina, or one of her other DVD's, until we are all dead tired at about 9 PM. That pesky time change leads us all to the barn earlier these days.

Anyhow, back on topic, the subject of my post today is the larder, particularly how excited I am to take stock of the wares I've canned, accumulated, dried, grown or otherwise stashed for our family's consumption between now and April and beyond. The weather of winter has fully and completely arrived, meaning very short days, regular cold, cloudy, and rainy days, and cold nights. I've noted over the years here that all growth of plants basically stops, or progresses painfully slowly, during these months. Even though many of our local plants don't die back as in places where it snows, many do, while others simply pause as if mid-sentence, and wait for longer days and warmer nights to begin to stretch again. Even the grass tends to pause.

While the garden and native plants are stuck in winter limbo, we still have plenty to eat, though not as great a quantity of fresh produce as in the summer. Here is a list of what I've canned up to line our (forthcoming) pantry shelves:
2 cases of tomato
6 tomato paste
10 zucchini relish
35 or so jars of jam (apple ginger jelly, blueberry, strawberry, peach, and blackberry)
16 quarts of apple juice
1.5 cases of red tomato salsa
2 cases green tomatillo salsa
~12 tubs of pesto (frozen)
about 30 winter squash
6-8 cups of dried white beans
dried herbs
two frozen chickens whole
a several month supply of cured garlic
about 8 cups of home grown wheat berries
frozen strawberries
locally-grown frozen beef


I still have yet to can/put up:
pumpkin
green tomato chutney
saurkraut

Even though it's winter outside, we're still eating:
fresh cabbage
fresh carrots
fresh broccoli
fresh greens
fresh beets
the dregs of the tomato, eggplant, and peppers

I don't think our garden produce will last through like I always try to manifest, but it will only be a few months where we won't have anything.

Days left until the first spring planting: About 90.

Be Careful, the Things You Imagine

Maybe it was coincidence, maybe a sixth sense that works over a longer time span than I realize, but last evening, after viewing that autumn sky and early dark, I decided to check the weather, only to discover that there was some actual rain forecast for today. And though true raindrops descended from the sky for only a short 20 minutes or so, it fills one-without-a-roof with a certain, hmmm, je ne sais quoi, deeper anxiety?

No harm done, at this point, but still. This early season sprinkle, which happens with regular regularity, serves each year to remind: the rain WILL return, and soon.

Beltane/May Pole

Our local Pagan High Priestess, Kirsten, once again organized our Mattole annual May Pole event, marking Lunar Beltane and May Day, which this year also fell on Mother's Day. The Pagan celebration of Beltane marks the midpoint between Spring Equinox and Summer Solstice, the beginning of summer, and has traditionally been a celebration of fertility and virility, with the phallic symbology of the May Pole, as well as the ancient rites of the bonfire and the meeting of the goddess and the stag. This is much oversimplified, and I am not an expert by any means on this subject. It's definitely something to explore more deeply.

Anyhow, we gathered midday on Sunday at the beach, and a group of men went down the beach to collect the pole that Kirsten had selected. Meanwhile, we dug a hole to place it in, and made garlands of willow and flowers to wear on our heads. We drank May Wine (white wine with flower petals in it!), ate hard boiled eggs, built a fire to welcome the fire element (and to cook hot dogs for the kids...not sure who brought the hot dogs!), and just spent some time being together. The collective community energy has been a little overcome with grief these last few weeks, as we are all still processing Cordelia's death. Her memorial was the day before at her family's home, a beautiful and full experience of grieving and celebrating, as one large family.

At last we put the pole up, and divided up the ribbons, and attempted to do the appropriate weaving dance to create the beautiful basket weave around the pole. It was successful in some sections! Mainly, it was a fun way to come face to face with most of the people at the pole. I couldn't help but feel grateful for the lovely families and individuals who arrived to participate on a windy, overcast day at Mattole beach. To summer....

Easter Egg Hunt

I'm sitting here typing this evening while Ella's friend Nick, who is a few years older, and Ella are peacefully building lego spaceships, and reflecting out loud how they are sharing the Legos together. Ahhhh, sometimes I am so very present to how much we have arrived at older-kid-dom.

Easter Sunday was a fun-filled day, with early-morning-tearing-into-presents (thanks, Grandma Shirley!) and our usual pancakes for breakfast, followed by a walk through overcast skies and bird-song filled forests to our neighbor Quinn's house for the long-awaited Egg Hunt. Ella has been begging to go for days.

We were the first kids there, and we played on the swingset while awaiting more hunters and for all the eggs to be hidden. When everyone arrived, we posed the kids for the usual group photo, and then sent them running, rummaging through grass and shrubs, irises, garden hoses, decks, potted plants, and along fences, searching for the rainbow-colored eggs. The hiders did a phenomenal job, placing an egg the exact color of a garden hose in among the coils, for example. Well done, ladies! While the kids scrambled, the adults milled about on the porch, imbibing cinnamon rolls, muffins, quiche, coffee, and tea.

Once the kids were all finished with finding the eggs, the scavenger hunt began, where the kids are sent all over the property in search of more clues, for example, "When you climb the wall, you're very tall, and can see it all." The clues eventually led to the side door of the house, which opened into a room full of easter baskets with a stuffed animal, some candy, and a balloon. My favorite part of the scavenger hunt is how the kids take off like a herd of spooking deer once they read the clue and realize where they need to go!

After a little more chatting, we began our journey home, easter baskets, hard-boiled eggs, and demolished sheep cinnamon rolls in tow in the bike trailer, and were graced with the amazing view of our flat, what with a cloud-mottled sky and rich, green, velvety hills. Spring is amazing, and every April, I am reminded of why this is the month that first inspired me to live here someday. Magic magic magic.

Easter Preparation at the Homestead

Purple Cabbage, Water, and Vinegar, for Making Blue Dye


Putting Onion Skins Around the Egg


Wrapping the Egg


Tying the Cloth Wrapper


Unwrapping the Onion-Skin Dyed Egg


Onion-Skin, and Onion-Skin-Nettle Dyed Eggs


The Whole Dozen (Minus Two for Snacks) All Made With Natural Dye



A Delighted Ella

What a perfect follow up to my post about chickens!

Easter in Petrolia is kind of an institution. There is an egg hunt for the kids every year, at a neighbors house. We bustle about and make our eggs for delivery the day before, and a crew of diligent and creative people hide them the morning of the hunt, in the crooks of trees, next to rocks, along fences and porches, and inside random pieces of rural trash (i.e. dead cars). After the hunt, the older kids participate in a scavenger hunt, at the end of which is an easter basket for each child, complete with a stuffed animal and some candy. Ella sort of got it last year, but THIS year, well, she is really excited for tomorrow. All day, she has been begging me to go to the hunt. I tell her it's not happening until tomorrow, and she then asks, "But WHYYYYY, momma?"

This morning, we dyed our eggs. I sent Drew for supplies last week, and he balked at buying those silly little commercial kits. He came home instead with beet powder, and suggestions of using turmeric for yellow dye. Hmmm. Not what I was thinking, but I began researching online, and found several recipes for natural dye using such materials. So this morning after breakfast, we started cooking up homemade dye. Water, beet powder (available at our natural food store, who knew?!), and vinegar for red; Water, turmeric, and vinegar for yellow; water, red cabbage, and vinegar for blue. I boiled each of the concoctions for a while, and then strained the turmeric potion (through a coffee filter), and the cabbage, through a strainer. And we did a few in Drew's mom's traditional way, using yellow onion skins held on tight to the egg with a piece of fabric. You just hard-boil them in that little cloth package. We laid a stinging nettle leaf on one of those, and wow, did it come out a beautiful, natural shade of green.

If you are interested in exploring these websites and recipes yourself, check out these two: one with lots of natural dye recipes for various colors, and another for making Chinese "Tea Eggs", where you crack the outer shell of the hard-boiled egg before you dye it, leaving the shell-crack impression on the finished egg. They look like china ware in psychedelic colors, so cool.
Who knew natural eggs could come out so beautifully? Who needs Paz? Not ME, anymore!