Early Morning Visitor

This morning I woke up early but happy that there was nothing urgent waiting for me, I pulled a pillow over my head for a few more minutes of rest.  I was almost back to sleep when Anne quietly opened the bedroom door and said in a loud whisper,  "MOM!  Mom!  There's a great horned owl in the chicken house and I can't get him out!"  Something urgent after all!  I threw off my nightgown, jumped into some clothes and grabbed some thick leather gloves on my way out the door.  We had an old blanket in the garage so that came with us.  As we trotted out to the chicken house I kept thinking, "How in the heck did an owl get in the chicken house?"

Sure enough, there he was.  Isn't he a beauty?  It's a juvenile, way too small for an adult but a beautiful young thing, for sure.  Anne said he kept blinking at her, first with one eye and then the other.  Zoom in and look at those feet!  

Anne had tried to shoosh him out the north door which is right there but he wasn't convinced.  So I held the blanket in front of me and approached with caution.

I gently put the blanket over him and he backed further between the plywood but I was able to use a wooden stick to nudge him forward into the blanket.  He was making his defensive "click - click - clicking" as I reached down and scooped him up.  Thankfully, this wasn't my first owl rodeo - I've done this several times before.  As I was walking away with him I was thinking that this probably isn't legal but it seemed our best option.

I was really glad I had thick gloves on and several blanket layers because you would not believe the strength in those talons. What a grip.  No small animal would have a chance once in those claws.  We surveyed the area and decided to take him over by a big tree to release him and see if he was injured.

I set him down and gingerly lifted the blanket off.

He shook himself once and then up, up and away he flew!  What a beautiful sight it was.  Here's a link to that video.  

Afterwards I realized how easily he could have gotten in - we have large windows on the south side of the chicken house and three of them were open, tilted in.  The young pullets have taken to roosting on the top of the tilted windows at night, a practice I tried to discourage but if you've ever tried to discourage a chicken from its favorite roost, you'll know what I was up against.  So there they were, sitting ducks for any laser owl eye to see, perched within somewhat easy reach.  I haven't counted the chickens but there was one pullet wedged back behind the owl in the plywood.  Anne got her out and she is apparently unhurt.  There was no evidence of a kill and ALL the other chickens were hiding on the west side of the machine shed, safely cowering in the elderberry thicket which is impenetrable.  I walked over and called them and they came running out, squawking their tales of adventure.  It gets light so early now and their automatic door opens for them so they are out and about at the crack of dawn.  

Just yesterday I had stood there inside the chicken house looking at the window openings and thinking, I need to put poultry netting over those openings so the sparrows don't come in and steal all the food.  But of course with VBS looming I decided that was a project that could be put off another week.  It has moved up the priority list and will get done today!  

And now we know the GHOs are alive and well in Nettle Creek!

A tradition, a recipe and a sign of spring

I'll start with the sign of spring.  About a week ago I looked inside the goose house after letting them out in the morning and noticed a distinctive, round shape in the straw.  I gently put my hand in and felt around and sure enough - there under the straw was the first goose egg of the season!  It had been bitterly cold so the egg was frozen solid and cracked open but since then there have been two more.  Goose eggs are wonderful for cooking and baking.  

Now about the tradition...  Back in 1977 when Pete and I got married and moved to Ames, Iowa, I somehow established the tradition of serving pizza on Saturday nights.  And because we were poor as the proverbial church mice at that time, it wasn't pizza ordered in or bought at the store.  At the no-frills warehouse grocery store where I shopped, I could buy a packet of pizza crust mix for 19 cents.  Add water, mix, let rise for 10 minutes and then put in a pan, add toppings and cheese and in no time, semi-homemade pizza.  I loved those mixes!  But in a year we were living in Germany and of course, almost NO convenience foods there at that time!  I continued to make pizza weekly but used various yeast doughs with more or less success.  I don't remember that any of them were inedible but not the same as the easy mix.  In one of the packages that came from home, my mom included several women's magazines which I read from cover to cover.  And to my delight in one of them was a recipe for "Easy As A Mix Pizza Dough".  From that time on and for the next several decades that recipe became the foundation of our Saturday night pizza tradition.  The only major change I made to it was in 1982 when we purchased our grain mill and I used home-milled whole wheat flour from thence forth. 

This ancient baking pan fills the oven.  It's a relic from Germany and would be impossible to replace.

I sometimes wonder how many pizzas I've made in my lifetime.  Countless college students during our ministry years showed up at 6 pm on Saturday night for pizza and the weekly German soccer game.  And as our family grew, so grew their appetites and the number of friends that were invited for Pizza Night.  We've been married for almost 48 years and I figure I've made pizza at least once a week for most of those years, sometimes multiple large pizzas.  There were times I swore I was NOT going to make pizza every single Saturday night but then the reality of figuring out an alternative meal that was equally loved overcame my resolve and here we are, almost 48 years later, still having pizza most Saturday nights.  Nowadays it's usually just Pete and me and I'm still making a large pizza because I can't seem to scale back to "pizza for two".  Pete doesn't mind the leftovers and I've always been in the "cook once, eat twice" camp.  In the last few years I've changed to making the dough in my food processor, which turns out a fantastic dough.  My current recipe is very similar to the original "easy as a mix" but with a few tweaks.  I also use our homemade canned tomato sauce and since our diet is 90% plant based these days there are only vegetables on top with a light sprinkling of mozzarella.  Pizza is another example of simple food that is much better homemade - I know exactly what is in it because I put it there!  

Over the years Pete has suggested I keep a frozen pizza on hand for "pizza emergencies" and at times I have done that.  But like homemade bread, I find I can make a pizza much faster and with much less waste than it would take to go buy it.  Our trusty Bösen stone grain mill is STILL working after 40+ years!  The company is no longer in business but the German quality engineering is still working and I expect it to see me to the end of my life.  That's one purchase where there has never been buyer's remorse. I've made most of our bread over the decades since then, too, and it is the real "staff of life" with only whole grain flour, yeast, water, salt and no need to scrutinize the label for additives.  

Here's the pizza crust recipe I now use, adapted from Cooks Illustrated magazine.

Put in bowl of food processor:

16 1⁄2 ounces bread flour (I use at least 50% whole wheat)

2 tsp sugar

1⁄2 tsp instant yeast (I use regular active yeast and sometimes up it to 1 tsp)

1 large spoon plain Greek yogurt.

Add through tube and pulse until dough comes together:

1 1/3 cups ice cold water

Let rest for 10 minutes.

Add 1 1⁄2 tsp table salt and 1 Tbsp EVOO

Spin for 30-60 seconds.

Put dough in oiled bowl.  If using immediately, let rise at room temp a while.  Otherwise, cover and refrigerate dough for 24 hours to 3 days.  Let dough warm slightly. Roll out or press out with hands on a pizza pan. Put toppings on and bake in a hot (400-450) degree oven until bottom is crisp and top is browned.  

 

Back to Blogger

A friend asked me recently if I still posted to my blog. My initial reaction was, "Huh! I guess not! Haven't even thought of it for ages." When asked why, I could only come up with "my life isn't that interesting". But then, writing a blog isn't one of those social media posts where you are presenting your life in its most polished form. A blog allows more scope for reflection. So I checked to see if my blog was still alive and sure enough it was there. I actually had fun re-reading my posts and remembering things! So here I am again, unadorned and unfiltered. Writing for me, if no one else! Looking through the last couple years of photos I realize how much has happened. I won't try to encapsulate it all but will start small. One of the biggest changes was the addition of Lucy to our household so I'll start with a couple photos of her.

She's a feisty but sweet rescue dog, part Dachshund, part German Shepherd and the remainder is Heinz 57 and she's changed our lives immeasurably. She is a fanatical frisbee chaser and loves Anne with a passion. She could have been a circus dog.

We weren't sure how the progression of Pete's Parksinson's disease would affect our ability to travel but last fall, we decided to try. We were invited by dear friends to visit them in England so off we went. Pete did amazingly well, so well, in fact, that he's pushing for a trip to Germany this year. I, who have barely recovered from the trauma of getting through Heathrow with barely enough time to make our flight home, am not committing to anything adventurous yet.

We two "old'uns", ready for take off

With dear friends Naomi and Harald

On the broad sandy beaches of Hythe, in Kent. 
That sea air will blow the jetlag out of your brain!

Now that I've gotten my toes wet with Blogger again, I'll be more inclined to post again.

Turtle 911 (or The Pitchfork Wielding Granny)

 After a dry spell, we got a very welcome rain today.  I spent the afternoon out in the garden planting sweet potato slips and getting bean beds ready.  The saturated soil was perfect for weed-pulling so I took care of weeding a largish bed that I hadn't mulched yet this year.  By the time I came in the house late this afternoon, I was stiff from bending and heavy lifting, very tired and caked with mud.  After a soak in a hot bath, I decided I could legitimately put on my nightgown and housecoat as I wouldn't be going outside again today.  I had started making dinner when my phone rang.

"Mom, there's a big turtle in the road and I'm afraid it will get run over if I leave it there.  I was going to move it but I think it's a snapping turtle and I'm scared of it!  What do I do?"  This was daughter Anne on her way home from work at the gym.  She and the turtle were just a few yards away from an intersection with a busy highway and at that time of day there are quite a few cars turning on our road.  She was right to think that turtle was doomed unless it moved quickly and was somehow brought to safety.

"I'll be there in less than 10 minutes.  See if you can park your car to protect the turtle."  Without stopping to dress (I was fully dressed, just a bit unorthodoxly), I grabbed a long-handled pitchfork from the garden tools, hopped in the car and headed down the road.  I didn't meet any cars on my way there and was glad to see both Anne and the turtle were safe when I pulled up.

Headed for danger

The turtle was near a creek and was obviously just trying to get to the creek on the other side (but why via the road instead of going under the road through the culvert?  Turtle minds are a mystery).  Of course, the minute I got out of the car and was ready to begin action, cars started turning onto the road.  No one stopped to ask what in the world was going on but I'm sure they wondered at an older woman wearing her housecoat and wielding a pitchfork in the middle of the road!

I was able to get the pitchfork carefully under the turtle and gently lift it and carry it to the other side of the road.  There is a steep ditch there so I had to walk it a little way to where I could set it down safely but still close enough to the creek so that the turtle will hopefully get him/herself back to the water and safety.  Mission accomplished.  It wasn't the largest snapping turtle I've ever seen but it was probably about 12-15 lbs.  I'm sure the turtle was somewhat traumatized by being carried but certainly not as traumatized as it would be if a pickup ran over it.

Now for a gentle let-down

Safe in a bed of grass

In all my years in the country I have rescued quite a few turtles from imminent doom on the road.  I've had to get creative when I didn't have the pitchfork handy.  Sometimes it's been a softshell turtle, sometimes a box turtle, sometimes a painted turtle.  Those are all far easier to rescue because they are harmless.  I have great respect for snapping turtles and their ability to lunge and snap, especially on land where they feel threatened.  Anne was right to exercise caution with this one.  We've had many snapping turtles here in our own creek behind the barn and sometimes I've removed them (hence my experience wielding the pitchfork to lift and carry) and relocated them because kids play in the creek.  Snapping turtles won't attack unless they are threatened but still...a child stepping on or near them might be perceived as a threat.

Snapping turtles are amazing creatures that can live to 100 years or more.  They are holdovers from prehistoric times.  Hopefully this one will live long and prosper.  And stay off the road!

New Life for Old Woolens

 We've been in isolation over Christmas due to Covid exposure.  It was definitely a different celebration and the first time in forty years that Pete and I were totally alone for Christmas.  We survived and thankfully no symptoms of virus so we have a lot to be thankful for.

One of the advantages of the down time was having leisure to tackle a few projects that have been on my list for a long time.  I finished the border of a hooked rug which had been done for several months.  Binding a curvy edge presented a few potential problems but when I actually got down to brass tacks and started it, it really wasn't that hard.

I liked the color combination on this pattern and even though I'm not a huge fan of poinsettias per se, it does make a nice bright winter mat for the dining table.

When you have a passion for wool, things do accumulate and woolen sweaters is one of the things I can't stand to donate.  I saw the idea for making mittens out of felted wool sweaters several years ago and finally got around to trying them myself.  They are fleece lined and man, are they ever WARM!  They are simple to make.  Making four pairs was enough to satisfy my desire to make them but sadly not enough to use up all the felted sweaters!  I sometimes feel I'm enslaved by all the scraps my fiber projects generate.  Having raised sheep, and having washed and spun their wool I have a real appreciation for all that goes into making something out of wool and can't stand to waste any of it.  

One other scrap wool project was making ornaments.  These were fun to stitch while watching a Christmas movie.

I have a bin of wool scraps next to the sofa, ready for transformation into something new.  And it's time to get my next hooked rug started.  Winter is definitely the time to be working with all that lovely wool!

Mysteries of God (and dogs)

 It was a year ago September that we had the huge flood that changed life here on the farm.  At the height of the flood we had to move sheep and dogs to the upper story of the barn and the difficulties of getting them back down (without injury to us or them) made us realize that at our age and with our physical limitations it was time to downsize the farm population.  We found homes for the sheep and eventually, in October 2019, we took the two Great Pyrenees dogs to a wonderful sheep farm in Wisconsin and their new owner, Heidi.  End of story.  Or so we thought.

Last spring I started getting calls from Wisconsin notifying us that the dogs had begun escaping from their idyllic pastures and going roaming.  This, of course, was worrying for all of us.  Eventually, it got so bad that Heidi relinquished Badgie (the instigator of all the escapes) to a Pyrenees rescue person in northern Wisconsin.  This person (Carol) said that Badgie's best future was to become a house dog and to that end she began working with him.  

Today I received a call from Heidi.  She thought I might be interested to hear about the dogs and "the rest of the story", as Paul Harvey used to say.  I certainly was interested, especially after she started the story!

After several months of being in "house dog training" with Carol, Badgie was placed with a family who has an autistic daughter.  The child was totally nonverbal and wouldn't participate in any family activities, living very isolated.  The family had had a dog before and although the little girl hadn't related to it at all, they missed having a house dog and were open to having a BIG one.  One day this fall Carol delivered Badgie to the family and stayed to see how things would go.

At their arrival, the little girl immediately went into the backyard to get away from the new person and big new dog.  Badgie did his initial sniff-and-snoop around the new house but then went into the back yard and laid down near the little girl.  Not liking his nearness, the little girl inched away from him.  Badgie inched closer to her.  She inched away.  Badgie inched closer.  She inched away.  He inched closer.  After this happened about 5 times, instead of inching away the little girl reached out and touched him.  Apparently, that one touch was all it took for a bond to form between the two and since that time, they have been inseparable.  That in itself is remarkable but there were even bigger changes as a result of the bond.  The little girl has started talking and as long as Badger is with her, she will talk to people.  No dog, no talking.  She will also participate in family activities like watching movies together, as long as Badgie is with her.  

God's paths are certainly convoluted!  Pete and I drove down to Missouri to pick up the dogs as puppies.  They spent a couple years here in Illinois but then it was clearly time for them to go to southern Wisconsin.  They spent 6 months there before it was clearly time for Badger to find a new home.  Several more months with Carol in northern Wisconsin and then FINALLY, like a key fitting a lock, Badger's purpose in life as a therapy dog for this autistic little girl was realized.  The two of them belong together and I am amazed at what God did to bring them together at the right time.  The Great Flood of September 2019 was truly a watershed moment in God's plan.  To us it had seemed like a failure of our plans but we couldn't see what God was doing.

As for Bilbo, he continued happily as sole guardian dog for Heidi and her sheep and didn't miss Badgie at all.  This fall, however, he too began Houdini-like escapes and once again, Carol has stepped in to retrain him (she was thrilled to get Badgie's brother!) as a potential house dog/therapy dog.  We wonder what God will do with Bilbo.

We are so thankful for people who care about these dogs and are able to rehome them to wonderful homes.  It is also a lesson to us about how hard circumstances can lead to great outcomes and a reminder that we often have NO clue what acts of redemption God might be about to perform.  We are also amazed at the ability of a dog to change the brain of a child.  That too, is a testimony of God's work in orchestrating His creation to bless and serve each other.  

Summer eating from the garden

Having been more or less in lockdown for these months I have to honestly say I am heartily sick of cooking.  Or maybe I should say I'm sick of my OWN cooking.  But since Pete doesn't cook, it's my own or nothing.  The one saving grace has been all the fresh produce from the garden.  Here are a few recipes I've tried this summer that are keepers.

Fresh tomato tart.  This is from the Midwest Living website and so simple.  Made with meaty heirloom tomatoes and lots of basil fresh from the garden it is just delicious.  I like to use the less juicy Amish paste or Brad's atomic tomatoes but Cherokee Purple would knock the flavor out of the park, too.  The only tweak I might try next time I make it is to crumble some bacon in it.  We eat a pretty clean "whole-foods-plant-based diet" but when summer comes with the heirloom tomato riches I can tell you...we eat bacon with those tomatoes!  Served with fresh sweet corn, this is summer eating at its best.  

Panzanella.  I use Ina Garten's recipe from the Food Network website.  The only changes I made are leaving out the capers (none on hand) and using green peppers from the garden instead of the red and orange ones the recipe calls for.  The vinaigrette that goes with this recipe is perfect and you might just find yourself tipping the bowl for the last delicious drops.  This uses heirloom tomatoes, basil, cucumbers, peppers and onions from the garden and makes a wonderful summer supper.  Cherokee purple and Costoluto Genovese were my tomato picks for this dish.  The chunky fried bread cubes soak up the juices.  Yum.

Probably the most unusual recipe I've tried this summer is baked cucumbers.  I have never eaten a cucumber except RAW in my entire life but I read this recipe a few years back in Gladys Taber's Stillmeadow Cookbook and thought I wanted to try it once before I die.  We have some unusual white cucumbers (McNeely's White) in the garden this year and they are delicious cukes.  They are short and stout and I thought they'd be perfect for stuffing.  Cut the cukes in half and scrape the seeds from the center with a spoon.  Set them on a rack in a pan and steam them over water until just slightly tender.  Remove and stuff the centers with whatever you like - I used seasoned cornbread stuffing.  Top with cheese and bake until heated through.  Pete and I both approached them rather cautiously but were digging in with gusto after that first tentative bite.  He carefully removed the skin while eating his, I just cut it up and ate it all (kind of the same way we each approach a baked potato!).  

I also have discovered the joys of blistered green beans!  I don't think I have a photo of these but they are soooo good.  I stir-fry the fresh green beans in a large frying pan, using no oil.  They will blister and scorch slightly.  Maybe a drop or two of balsamic vinegar or soy sauce at this point but not enough to wet them too much.  Throw in some french-fried onions and stir them well with the beans and that's all there is to it.  The heat and blistering brings out great flavor in the beans.   The beans below got preserved by canning but there are plenty more where these came from!