Omnivores Be Warned! This Post May Contain Triggers

February 1, 2020, was a day I planned to have Ben pick up the groceries on my list. And there was no meat on the list. I had eaten the last of the frozen meals containing chicken the night before and I just didn't feel like eating meat anymore. There is nothing remarkable about the date, that's just when it happened. And I feel like it happened to me, that something external to me had decided that Melody would no longer eat meat, not a personal choice. Kind of like it had been inscribed in the brushed stainless steel finish of the dual refrigerator doors, "No meat shall pass these portals".

I wish I could say it was because of some noble reason like realizing the inefficiency of meat as food for humans. I read Diet For a Small Planet years ago and kept eating meat. And I know cows contribute a lot to the environmental methane overload. All are solid reasons to avoid meat, but didn't sway me.

However, several other things over a long time had lead me to this point. I have always had a gut reaction to meat counters in grocery stores -- just so  much meat, and all of it raw and dead. But, the thought of a nice barbecued rib eye served up with twice-baked potatoes, roasted corn on the cob, and a good bold Cabernet Sauvignon painted over any fleeting thoughts of revulsion. Maybe it was really the thought of the Cab. Sadly, since meat has been off the menu, Cab has lost its allure.

I suppose another factor had been the several trips I had taken to Southern California during 2019, driving up and down the dullest road in America --Interstate 5. Between Sacramento and Bakersfield there is very little in the way of sensory stimulation, except. . .Harris Ranch! The miasma of the feed lots assaults the olfactory nerves for miles around and bring tears to the eyes. There is no escape, no matter how insulated the vehicle, the odor of Cowshwitz permeates. And do you know? There is a restaurant and a hotel there! I can't imagine how anyone could have an appetite, especially arriving from the north where the feed lots sprawl and the prevailing winds conspire to announce the presence of so many thousands of steers literally on their last legs. And who would want to spend the night? To better to soak in the glory (gory?) of it all? And yet, the label Harris Ranch Beef on a plastic-wrapped prime rib in a white Styrofoam tray conjured up visions of a Christmas feast, with mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, Brussels Sprouts (another olfactory assault) and the perfect Cabernet. So, is it the prime rib or the Cab? They are inseparable in my reverie.

And then there is the fact that I co-habit with my grandson, an avowed vegan (until February 1, 2020). He seemed to exist mainly on hummus, guacamole, and granola, with an occasional frozen Pad Thai meal. But, when I stopped eating meat and started cooking vegetarian meals with the possible inclusion of dairy or eggs, he suddenly broadened his food choices to include whatever I prepared. He never proselytized his culinary practices, but his disinterest in meat dishes I prepared had some influence on my conversion. I love to cook for an audience -- feeding the people has always given me joy. When the audience is limited to a single person who is not impressed with virtuosity in the kitchen, what had formerly brought joy, became tiresome. What was the point?

Then there was the time when a truckload of cattle was overturned and around 80 cows escaped. After a few hours they were rounded up and loaded into another truck, with all accounted for and no apparent injuries. The public reaction was bizarre. Everyone was worried about the well-being of the animals and relieved that none had gone missing and that none were hurt. Those creatures were on the way to the feed lots and eventual slaughter. Wouldn't a more compassionate person pray they made their escape?

 

The last straw was the dog. When Oreo was in the throes of her final illness and I became keenly aware of just how sweet, and trusting she was. I realized how all these years she had depended on us to take care of her. It was clear she had feelings. And since she did, doesn't a cow (or chicken, or pig)? Don't confuse me by the fact  that dogs are meat-eaters. A whole lot of what I came to feel has logic holes as big as a Florida sinkhole. 

Fish was kind of a separate issue. It took a while for me to make the mental leap to exclude it. I miss it far more than I miss meat. If I should ever fall off the vegetable wagon, I'm sure it would be for some harvest from the sea. I  miss shrimp, crab, and lobster from time to time, although not enough to buy and cook it. 

Pairings no longer play into my meal planning. I never wonder, does red wine go with brown rice and white wine with white rice? Consequently I'm spending a lot less money on wine. My bank account and my liver rejoice. Of course, as always, Champagne goes with everything.

And so, I simply could not eat meat anymore. I don't know if it's forever, but it is for today. 

More Circle of LIfe, Backyard Edition

It's only right that Ben provides me with blog material in the next couple of weeks, he leaves for California in just over two weeks! We are busy cleaning out his room, packing stuff for storage and to take. It's very hard. When he's not packing he continues his backyard observations. It's a race against the clock to see if his mantids will hatch before he leaves. He maintains a vigil as rigorous as any found in a maternity ward.

This bunny met his maker just over our back fence where our neighbor grows a vegetable garden. I'm hoping there is no connection between the rabbit's love of fresh vegetables and his demise. We had been watching this bunny make his rounds through the neighborhood over the past few weeks. We would first catch sight of him emerging from a back yard across the street (a yard with a vegetable garden). He would hop across the street, cut across our lawn, spend some time in our raspberry bushes before crawling under the fence to the greater bounty of our neighbor's garden. RIP, little cottontail. At least I'll miss you.

 

And it looks like the backyard biologist is assured of another generation of box turtles. Doesn't she look just a bit perturbed by the camera's intrusion? This photo leaves me with some lingering questions about what goes where and how does it get there, but I'm sure the turtles have it all figured out.

*Photos courtesy  of Benjamin Maples

Season Finale

In the middle of this picture, the red-headed section leader of the front line plays his part on the vibes. Because I was at ground level when I took the picture, you can't see the drum line carrying on behind the keyboards. It was a good show, but not their best -- wait till next year!

Saturday's show was the season finale and regional championship competition. Drum corps' from all over Missouri and parts of Kansas descended on our little town and left behind several thousand dollars to sweeten the coffers of the Ozark High School Band and to fund much of next year's activities. This one day effort sure beats selling Christmas wrap and frozen cookie dough! And it was very well executed thanks to some great parent and student volunteers.

With Winter Drum Line and Speech and Debate season at a close, my taxi service goes into semi-retirement. The trio of activities demanding after-hours practice remaining on the calendar -- off-season football training, the spring Chorale Concert, and Woodwind Symphony (Ben plays tympani) -- have yet to wrap-up, but for the most part we have begun the long gradual slide into summer. Then we'll launch into band and football camps and summer school. Hopefully, by then we'll have a second car.

Today's gorgeous weather means I have to make a trip to Lowes' for weed killer. Everything green thing in the Ozarks has erupted during the past couple of weeks of warm and wet weather. Mowing season is back with us, bird nests are all over the place, and the bugs have returned. Ben hates the mowing and weed-killing -- he sees it as the destruction of insect habitat. I like it for the same reason!

Spring Break -- Not!

The boy (initials LAM) who won't allow his picture to be taken by his doting grandmother went off to a district-wide speech tournament this morning. As usual he was a gorgeous hunk in his dark blue suit which is getting just a bit tight in the chest and shoulders; after all, it is a year old and he is still a growing fifteen-year-old. When it came time to put on his jacket, he insisted it was NOT his jacket. According to him, his jacket did not have a vent in the middle of the back, did not have chipped buttons, and fit much better in the chest and shoulders. Never mind that the jacket in question was the exact same fabric and color as the pants, from the same store, and from the same clothing line. He left confident that someone had mixed up his jacket with theirs at the last speech tournament. I wish him well as he takes a difficult-to-defend position in this debate. I'm betting he'll be wearing the same jacket when he returns to the debate tournament tomorrow.

Winter Drum Line competitions have eaten into Ben's spring break. Last Saturday they competed at Nixa. They haven't done very well this year. I feel some of the enthusiasm of the group has been dampened by the departure of their band director, Brian Perkins. He was put on a leave of absence around Thanksgiving last year and finally resigned in February. Rumors swirl around his departure, but none of them seem to indicate any horrible misdeeds, and there have certainly been no charges filed against him. Whatever the reasons, the whole situation makes me very sad. Mr. P. gave unstintingly of his time and energy for the band and contributed greatly to Ben's development as a musician and a person. He allowed Ben to take a leadership position in his section, and gave him lots of time for practicing and learning outside of school hours. The band also provided Ben a framework for his social life and the opportunity to develop trust in a male role model. He has spent many hours in class, rehearsals, competitions, and road trips so the relationship went far deeper than that of any other teacher. It has been unsettling to have Mr. P. just disappear from his life with no closure and no understanding of the circumstances. It makes me very sad for Ben's loss and for whatever has happened in Mr. P.'s life. I wish him and his family strength and success as they reshape their lives. I am left with unexpressed gratitude for the contribution he has made to our lives.

While Logan is debating, Ben and I will be farming. Tomorrow is our "work share" day at the farm. I hope they have an easy grandma-type task. In the past, I have sorted seeds and started seeds in little soil clumps. I have great enthusiasm for gardening in the spring; problem is, it fades by the time summer heats up. This year I'm confining my efforts to herbs and flowers in hanging pots on the deck because we may be moving this summer (if our house sells). I don't want to sow anything I won't be around to reap! So, I'll limit my sowing and focus on sewing. (Sorry, couldn't help myself.)

Agony and Ecstasy

This is what it looks like today. And it feels just about as good as it looks. The joint is really tight and my good leg is very feeble, so exercise is torturous, but I've been religious about it. I can imagine pain-free, limber days by year's end. At Knee Day plus 9, I still haven't driven, still taking pain medication. I'm resting, exercising, eating, and being entertained in grand style thanks to a cadre of wonderful friends and relatives. My week-long visit with Kathy was in itself worth the agony. She is a wonderful nurse and companion. Lucky Rick! Lucky me. She's also a great cook and left me with a well-supplied refrigerator and this herb garden for flavoring my attempts to replicate some of her wonderful meals.

It's So Nice to Have a Man Around the (Green) House

Ben climbed the ladder to dismantle the satellite dish so we could return the component you can see sticking out. Dish Satellite graciously (?) allows us to keep the dish, but we are required to return the other gizmo or pay $150. Now, what are we supposed to do with a disabled satellite dish, pray tell? We had to package up a bunch of equipment and send it back to them. They left it up to us to dismantle the equipment and package it and pay for shipping. They make it real hard to disentangle from their services (the reason we now have a new phone number, grrrrrr).
With both feet on the ground, Ben is filling our basket with our allotment of winter vegetables, either from storage, or grown in the hoop house.
Stuffed in the basket is the biggest Chinese cabbage I've ever seen -- it must weigh close to ten pounds. But, it's very tender and mild. We ate a bit of it last night in a mixture of ham and potatoes. It was pretty good -- Logan complained at the mention of it and then enjoyed it. There's also a mighty big turnip, about the size of a softball, to the right of the carrots. Greens, onions, butternut and acorn squash, potatoes, and a bell pepper round out the share. Our farmer and his wife welcomed a new baby girl over the Christmas holidays. This is the fourth girl born to them and they have four foster girls, all under eight years old.

I Think That I Shall Never See . . .

Dogwood, November 9, 2010

I love the dogwood tree in front of my house. I chose to plant it there because it is native to this area (the state tree) and I thought the protection of the house would fool it into thinking it was growing in the understory, its preferred niche. For a couple of years, I feared I was wrong. It just didn't do very well.
This year when I saw these buds (look closely, or click on the picture to enlarge it) forming on the branches in August, I panicked. I was sure my tree was out of phase, trying to bloom in the wrong season. After a bit of hasty Google research, I learned it was normal. The next season's blooms set in August. I had failed to notice this before because the tree had failed to set a significant number of blossoms -- twelve the first year and ONE the second year. It flowers on my birthday (April 18) which I take as a special gift and I can't wait till next year. The branches carry way too many blossoms to count! Joyful abundance!

I watch the tree very closely. Typically, I spend hours sewing each day, sitting at my machine in the dining room, looking out the window at the dogwood. It gives me great pleasure and many peaceful hours. But, like the fisherman's wife, I am never content for long. Now, I wish for a nest of birds to grace my tree in the spring.

Summer, so far

Logan's favorite summer activity is cuddling with the dogs. He wishes he had four more! When he's not doing this, he's swimming, playing basketball, playing stupid video games or working on Grandma's chore list. We've cleared out a lot of junk the past couple of weeks through garage sales, donations, and trash hauling. I should say we got rid of lots of stuff, but our lives and house don't seem to be any less cluttered. Health maintenance takes a lot of time, too. We've done sports physicals, the dentist, orthodontist and still have the eye doctor to see.

CSA Summer bounty is underway and I love it. I like picking up my share of fresh veggies and then planning our menus around the harvest. Many of these goodies are best prepared in a plain and simple way. We had the squash last night with fish fillets, organic brown rice, and green salad. I'll use the broccoli tonight with potatoes roasted along with Millsap farm chicken served with raspberry balsamic sauce (raspberries fresh from our garden). Later in the week we'll have Kohlrabi slaw and I've already made a fabulous Caesar salad with the lettuce. I saved the liquid from a jar of Klausen's dills and will use it to dress the cucumber. The turnips are the mild Japanese turnips and I like them sliced and fried up with onions, tossing in some greens to wilt just before serving. Buried in the pile is the first harvest of Tat Soi, a veggie I never encountered until we joined the CSA. It's kind of spoon shaped and rather like Bok Choy in taste but more delicate in texture. I like it just steamed or stirred into rice.

Tomorrow is our work day at the farm. I'm a hot weather wimp, so I hope it won't be too hot and humid.

Early Harvest

Raspberries are the first thing to ripen in our garden. Maybe because we haven't planted anything else -- don't want to rush, what if we get a late season frost? Ben has been carefully collecting these beauties for several days and yesterday we had the required 1-1/2 cups so that I could make muffins. Here's the recipe:

Plant a berry bush (from Baker's Seed Farm in Marshfield)
Wait three years
Pick berries as they ripen and save up till you have 1-1/2 cups

Serves 12 Hands-On Time: 15m Total Time: 45m

Ingredients

• 2 cups all-purpose flour
• 3/4 cup sugar
• 2 teaspoons baking powder (Rumford's aluminum=free)
  
• 1/4 teaspoon salt
• 1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, melted
• 3/4 cup whole milk
• 1 large egg
• 1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract
• 1 1/2 cups fresh raspberries

Directions

1. Heat oven to 400° F. Line a 12-cup muffin tin with paper liners or coat it with cooking spray, vegetable oil, or butter.
2. In a medium bowl, combine 1 3/4 cups of the flour, 1/2 cup of the sugar, the baking powder, and salt. Add the butter and combine. In a second bowl, whisk together the milk, egg, and vanilla. Gradually add the milk mixture to the flour mixture and stir until just combined; the batter will be lumpy. Toss the berries with the remaining flour in a bowl. Gently fold the berry mixture into the batter.
3. Fill each muffin cup 3/4 full. Sprinkle the batter with the remaining sugar. Bake for 17 to 20 minutes or until a toothpick inserted into the center of a muffin comes out clean. Transfer pan to a wire rack to cool for 10 minutes. Serve warm.

But, that's not how I do it -- I just dump everything into the bowl, except the berries and stir with a whisk until well mixed then gently toss the berries into the batter.



And there's a ton of raspberries on the vine -- I'll need more recipes!

Send in the Clowns

Logan is mowing the lawn with the lawnmower I bought this spring because I felt silly paying the neighbor boy to mow when I had two resident boys as old as the neighbor was when he started mowing for me. I think Logan is wearing the 3-D glasses we got when we went to see Avatar. He is supposed to be wearing safety glasses, but I guess these protect him from any two dimensional movies lurking in the grass.

The mower was assembled by the boys' grandfather and he gave them safety and technique lessons when they started to mow. The owner's manual said we should change out the engine oil from the thinner grade used by new mowers during breaking in time to the standard grade which will be used the rest of the mower's life. This mower does not use gas and oil mixed as single stroke engines do. So, we reached the five hour mark when Ben was mowing for hire over at Grandpa's. I sent the replacement oil along with him and asked him to change it out (with Grandpa's help). Mission failed. Grandpa did not have the owner's manual and could not figure out for the life of him how to drain the oil. No drain plug could be found. I suggested that perhaps one drained it from the same place one filled it, but was told that was unlikely. Today I went back to Lowes and inquired about the oil changing process and learned that indeed, one tipped the mower over and drained the oil from the same spot that one filled oil. One should also take care to exhaust the supply of gasoline before attempting this tipping maneuver. I effectively communicated this to the boys who ran the mower dry and then proceeded to drain the oil -- by tipping the mower over on the driveway and letting the oil run down the pavement. Not a pretty sight. We have applied detergent and scrubbed and hope for the best. Sorry if this seems sexist, but I'm left wondering about the difference between mental processes in the male and the female brains.

Farm in Winter

Just beyond a basket of the last of the tomatoes, a water-lily coated pond retains a bit of warmth in the green house. Very cold temperatures and short days have made for difficult growing conditions.

Lettuce, spinach, and arugula thrive under these conditions and produce tender greens. Last week's spinach was the best I have ever tasted -- I don't know if it was the growing conditions, or the variety of spinach, but it was yummy just eaten raw and plain.

Not sure what this green stuff is, but it will no doubt be in my CSA share in a couple of weeks.



Logan and Curtis are mixing potting soil which will be formed into little mounds for starting seeds. I had the job of planting the seeds. Some of them are very small and difficult for these clumsy hands to pick up -- only one seed to each little mound as germination rates are excellent and it is nuisance to have to thin them. I started lettuce, chard, and some flowers which are used to attract ladybugs. Logan built a raised bed, filled it with soil and planted garlic, chard, and some mystery green stuff. Fellow CSA member, Nicole Harrell worked with us today, but I didn't get a good picture of her forming the planting mounds with a special tool. It's hard work!

Ben wasn't with us today -- he was at an all day practice session for his winter drum line.

Wait till Next Year (Maybe We Won't Be So Boring)

Dogwood November 8, 2008

Dogwood November 8, 2009

Indian Summer is in full swing -- 72 degrees and climbing. It's been wet and warm this fall, no hard freeze yet, so I'm not sure why the tree is barer and why it didn't get as brilliantly red. It is slightly mildewed maybe due to the very damp weather last month. Very few tornado threats this year, not much hurricane activity. Boring is good.

Tuesday at the Farm

Former Republican house whip and current representative, Roy Blunt, holds the Millsap's foster daughter, Isabella. Blunt visited the farm this morning, traveling with 70 people from agriculture and food interests here and abroad. Curtis told them about his farm and the CSA. Isabella somehow insinuated her way into Blunt's arms -- she's good at finding someone to hold her.



Isabella's sister (I can't remember her name) wanted to gift me with this plant specimen. She is standing in front of the cherry tomatoes harvested today -- some of them by me.
Here's a tired and sweaty Logan holding a bunch of the soy beans he picked and bundled as part of his four hours of effort.

Ben and Curtis picked green beans at the end of our work shift -- I'd say Curtis is better at it than Ben.

Name That Bean

These foot-long snakey looking red things were part of our CSA share this week Apparently, they are some kind of bean, although they resemble beef jerky or red licorice whips more than any bean I've ever seen. I have no idea what to do with them, how to cook them, or even what part is edible. Any body got any ideas? I tried googling red beans but didn't come up with anything like these. Email questions to our CSA farmer have not yet been answered -- I think he is teasing or testing us.


The inside of the largest one has several of these fully formed beans in a sort of cottony pod. Some of the more slender pods don't seem to have much in them, as though the pod were the point, not the insides.

Summer vacation is drawing to a close. Ben is in his third week of band camp and Logan had football camp last week. (I wish I had a picture of him in his gear, but that will have to wait until game time, I guess.) Next week is orientation, registration, and all the other pawing of the earth that occurs before classes start on August 20. Ben is officially starting High School, although he has already taken two classes in summer school, and Logan begins Junior High.

Lisa and Michael are visiting Lisa's cousin who lives locally. Although I was delighted to see them and have lunch with them today, it is a sad visit for them. The much-loved cousin's husband of 47 years died earlier this week and they will be staying for the funeral. What a loss; such a sad time for them all.

Down on the Farm

The Millsaps farm using sustainable, organic practices. They raise hogs which are penned in an uncultivated field. By the time the hogs are through with the area, it is bug-free, grass-free, plowed, and fertilized. The hogs are moved to a new area and the former pen is cultivated. They grow many varieties of heirloom vegetables, densely planted in mixed beds. A row or two of onions could be next to potatoes and kohlrabi. Curtis believes that by avoiding dedicated beds he discourages infestations of plant-specific pests. And it looks beautiful.

Poultry is raised in portable enclosures placed on grassy areas. The grass and bugs provide sustenance and the poultry provides fertilizer. The enclosures are moved daily so that no one area becomes too soiled and a fresh food supply is offered.

Membership in this CSA has provided us with much more than tons of fresh produce, the education in sustainable agriculture and stewardship of the earth has been even more valuable.

On another note, the Millsaps' family has increased to seven girls under six years old. Last month a baby girl sibling to the three foster girls joined the group. She was born about three months ago weighing around 1-1/2 pounds. She is now seven and a half pounds and is thriving.

Pigs plowed this patch last year.

This week's harvest:

• Romaine
• Cucumbers (2)
• Zucchini (1 large)
• Purple Kohlrabi
• Corn (6 ears)
• Onions (2 purple, 1 yellow)
• Scallions
• Yellow crook-necked squash (1 Siamese twin)
• Broccoli
• Sun Jewel melon
• Swiss Chard
• Tomato
• Garlic
• Basil
• Potatoes
• Blueberries

I'm going to try to eat it all myself this week, building lunch and dinner around vegetables. Tonight I had corn on the cob and a salad of romaine, tomato, scallions, and cucumber. All was fresh and delicious.

Notes from California: I talked with Ben and Logan via Skype this evening. About 20 friends and relatives gathered at Colleen's for a barbecue and early celebration of Ben's birthday.

No Accounting for Taste

I love this chutney/salsa on chips, crackers, bread, rice, as a salad dressing, on pork, chicken, or fish:
1 avocado - diced
1 piece fruit - diced (I have used mango, orange or peach)
1 small or 1/2 large jalapeno, seeded and diced very fine
1 bunch cilantro chopped fine
2 cloves minced garlic
2 scallions or spring onions, thinly sliced

Toss together and enjoy!


I made it tonight and served it to the kids and Logan's friend from next door. The friend took one look at it and said, "Oh, boy, those are all of my favorite foods." And he ate it by the spoonful -- but he didn't put any Swiss Chard on his plate. In all fairness,when I said, "Rice, Chicken, and Swiss Chard are required, all else is optional." he did eat a tablespoonful of Swiss Chard. Ben and Logan both said, "I like Swiss Chard." I never knew -- I always thought I was pulling something over on them when I got them to eat it. But, they wouldn't touch the scarey chutney. Tonight I served white rice -- Basamati -- I usually serve brown rice, but the kids ask for white as a treat. I cook it in organic chicken broth and feel like I'm getting a little something good in their tummies.

Today the boys planted a bit of our garden, a few heirloom tomatoes, canteloupe, and another plant we thought was canteloupe, but looks suspiciously like a pepper plant. We'll see. Tomorrow we'll finish the seeds, beans, pumpkins, more canteloupe, and bunches of flowers. We'll leave most of the vegetables to the CSA farm this year. Herbs are growing in hanging baskets on the porch (I took down the fake poinsettias that have been there for a year and a half) and I especially love my rosemary, dill, and basil.

We went into town today to get a new cell phone for Logan, his old one went through the wash and some of the keys didn't recover, although was still able to use speed dial and receive calls. He wanted one with a keyboard so he could text more easily; we got one for free and for $5 he can send 200 messages a month. He is such a social animal. Ben and I are more curmudgeonly and introverted.

What's Up Doc

A cottontail rabbit came running under the gate and across the front lawn of the house across the street. The woman came through the gate, hands on hips, not amused. The rabbit had been eating her garden and she was chasing it away. She ranted and raved. What she didn't see was the rabbit ducked back under the fence and while she complained, he finished his dinner. I thought it was very funny, but I bet she didn't.

Missouri Weather

A wild storm passed through here Friday with several small tornadoes nearby and fierce 80-90 mile per hour straight winds. We had no damage, lost power for only a couple of hours, and noticed damaged signs, downed trees, and debris blown around. Sadly, our CSA farmers, Curtis and Sarah did not fare as well. An excerpt from Curtis's email follows :


"Greetings from the farm. We have been incommunicado for a couple of days, as we were out of electricity for about 36 hours, and frankly wouldn't have had much time to work on e-mail for the last couple of days anyway. We had some pretty bad damage from the wind storm yesterday morning, including some roof damage to our house and barn, some structural damage to the big greenhouse, a total loss of the hoophouse, and collapse of two smaller greenhouses. We are all fine, for which we are very grateful, and the death toll was only 4 baby chicks, which is very good considering we had about 200 in the brooder when it collapsed. The biggest loss is the hoophouse, which was the large 20 X 100 greenhouse which we constructed last year, in which we had planted 200 feet of tomatoes, 100 feet of cucumbers, and 100 feet of melons. We had constructed this from scratch, using mostly materials we had on hand or had salvaged, but the replacement cost would be about $6,000.It was totally destroyed, and I'm afraid it will not be covered by insurance. Bummer. The plants which were under the hoophouse mostly survived, although they are pretty beat up, and we will not be getting early tomatoes and cukes off of them this season, as they will be severely set-back. Other crops in the field took a beating too, just from whipping in the wind. I think most stuff will recover pretty well, although you may be getting some cosmetically blemished greens and onions for a while, and this will delay some future harvests, like bell peppers and eggplant, which were in one of the small greenhouses which collapsed. Meanwhile, we are trying to get caught up with our bed preparation and seeding or transplanting, which has been difficult with all the rain we've been having. As I said before though, we are still very grateful; "The Lord gives, and the Lord takes away; blessed be the name of the Lord". I had better sign off for now, it's been a long couple of days, with clean-up and trying to keep our freezers frozen with no power lines, and I need some sleep. I'm still thankful to be your farmer, and very grateful for your support of our farm.
Sincerely,
Curtis"

Up, up, and away/Snow on the Dogwood.

Can you tell that we had to get up at 4:30 A.M. to make it to the security gate by 7:00? They are now safe on the ground in Portland after changing planes in snowy Denver.


We have stormy weather forecast for the weekend, with snow on Saturday. You've heard the saying ,"Winter isn't over till it snows on the dogwoods." The dogwood is holding its own, still not in bloom, but making moves in that direction. I will cover it when freezing temperatures are forecast and wait for spring. The local redbuds are just coming into bloom. All should be very beautiful when my family comes to visit.

What I Want For My Birthday Is . . .

. . . the dogwood tree to bloom. It has 11 buds; a couple of them look as though they may be blighted. I don't know when dogwoods are supposed to bloom in these parts, but I'm hoping it is the middle of April. Lots of things are sprouting, tulips, daffodils, trees, and new lawn. (Ben and Logan also continue to sprout.)

I'll be 70 April 18. I kind of like that number. It is definitely old -- no longer can I fool myself that I am on the downward slope of middle age. And I'm doing OK. Slower, maybe, but everything is still working and those parts that are not working so well I will have repaired this year. I've decided that's how I will celebrate this milestone year -- tuning up my tunable parts. I'll start with my wrists and see if I like the results, I may proceed to repairing other joints. I hate the thought of down time while healing occurs, but I guess it's an investment I just have to make. See, that proves I'm old, I'm talking about medical stuff.

This is my 100th blog post. I was hoping to have something really interesting to say about it, but my creative juices aren't flowing. I'm still quilting on the quilt I pictured March 3 -- it has been a very challenging project, but I'm almost done, a couple more days, I think. So, I'm obsessing about it, and can think of little else.

Ben and I visited the high school last evening for an orientation. He seems to be a bit overwhelmed by the size of it -- there will be over 400 kids in his freshman class -- the same size my high school class was more than 50 years ago. The high school was built in 2004 and now the town is planning for a second high school. This is the fastest growing county (percentage-wise) in the U.S.

Back to the quilt.