So. . .

 First, I want you to read this old post.  Partly because it covers quite nicely the 'joy' of free food sent to my home by my mother-in-law.  And, partly because some of it is rather funny.  At least it is to me, reading it seven years after the fact, and remembering how horribly overwhelmed I was by life at that time (but successfully chugging through without totally losing my shit  mind).  Not that I haven't been quite frequently overwhelmed by life in the years since, but there's a certain naivety to that post I see now, having gone through so many frustrations in between.

Okay, did you read it?  Now for today's little rant.  Which is much like the noodle rant.

It's actually been quite a few years since Mother-in-Law sent down a ton (not literal, it just feels like it right now) of food I don't want/need.  Since covid she's mostly caught family members when they are up visiting and requested they 'shop' her breezeway for various grocery items she's brought home as leftovers/unclaimed food from the weekly food pantry she volunteers at. I like that approach much better, as I can say "I can really use those two boxes of elbow macaroni" or "I'd love to have three jars of creamy peanut butter" rather than having the responsibility of not wasting foods I don't/can't eat foisted on me. I can leave all the processed food I can't eat behind.  I can turn my back on the half-dozen cans of canned prunes.  Walk away from the cases of  super sweetened 'sports drink' and forget it even exists.

Until this month, that is.  DH went up north to retrieve a new mattress we'd bought at the store of his friend who gives us great deals.  The store is less than two miles from Mother-in-Law's house.  Which means DH had to stop in and see his mom while he was in the area.  He came home with not just our new mattress (which I was eagerly anticipating sleeping on, our other one having developed some quite uncomfortable hollows in recent years), but also with a 'box of food'.  A box, which, upon inspection, holds dried pinto beans.  Just dried pinto beans.  Nineteen one-pound bags of pinto beans.

*Sigh*.  Here we go again.  I checked with my kids to see if any of them would like some dried pinto beans.  Got rid of two bags.  With all of them working full time (except Surprise who is going to school and trying to do a little side hustle perfume business as well as still learning to be a mom, and Two-EEs who is on maternity leave for another few weeks), they are not interested in food that requires enough forethought to put it on to soak the night before you want to eat it plus an hour or more of simmering the day of.  If they want refried beans for taco night, they will grab a can at the grocery store.  

Because refried is pretty much the only way we've ever eaten pinto beans.  And, honestly, I'm in the same boat.  Can I use these beans and make refried beans?  Yes.  Have I made refried beans from scratch using dried pinto beans before? Yes.  Do I want to now?  Uh, not really.  I'm rather working full time plus myself this summer between the horse business and tending the garden.  I'm all about buying my refried beans by the can from the grocery store currently.  (On sale, and in multiples so I never run out, LOL).  

And with just DH and I at home to feed, I certainly am not going to soak and cook up an entire pound bag at a time.  It would take me YEARS to use up 19 pounds of dried pinto beans.

Does my local food bank want them?  Nope.  They want canned goods that people can open and heat, no skill (or soaking time) required.  (Honestly, I'm thinking that's why these 19 pounds of beans went unclaimed at the food pantry pick-up the week Mother-in-Law brought them back home so they didn't get thrown away when the pantry closed.)

But wait, there's more!  The beans aren't my only "What am I going to do with this? Where in the world am I going to store this?" food item this month.  Because when Mother-in-Law came down for Rascal and Octavia's baptism, she brought fish. 

Specifically, individually packaged, frozen lake trout filets.  Which sound like a great thing to be given, right?

I'm allergic to fish.

I have been allergic to fish the entire time I've known DH (and Mother-in-Law).  I'm pretty darn sure she knows I'm allergic to fish, the number of times we've been at her house in the last 34 years and I can't eat what she made for dinner because it's fish and I'm allergic to fish.

So, thirty frozen lake trout filets are not what I want to have to put into my freezer.  Because not only am I not going to eat a single bite of one of them, let alone thirty, I'm also not going to invite people over for dinner and serve them fish.  My allergy has gotten to where not only can't I eat it, but I can't cook it (for years I would occasionally cook fish for DH and the kids) either.  And, if I go into the house after someone else has cooked fish in my kitchen, I get ill just from the lingering fish oil in the air.  

This isn't just a matter of what am I going to do with this food I can't eat and don't want to throw away because it's good for other people who do want it.  No, this is more like being told you have the responsibility of caretaking this thing that could maybe kill you.  But you should be grateful for that responsibility because this thing didn't cost you anything.

I don't even want the darn things in my freezer, where I keep the meats that I can eat.  Not to mention the fact that we have a quarter of a beef on order that is going to the butcher in late August.  I need my freezer space for beef, not fish.

Do my kids want any of them?  Not really.  Because of past icky experiences with Mother-in-Law and seafood she has gifted them, they are all running away as fast as they can.  Nobody wants to take a chance on these fish even though both DH and I checked them thoroughly on arrival to make sure they hadn't thawed the least little bit (the thawed shrimp--from the food pantry, previously frozen--Christmas gifts one year are the reason for the adamant refusal of any seafood coming from Mother-in-Law).

Any ideas on where I can donate this fish?  Not that I have extra time in this incredibly busy season to call around and then drive it somewhere that can use it. . .

Happy Friday!

 It's been a busy week.  In the past seven days. . . 

--Rascal and Octavia got baptized! 

 

Of DS1 and K2's children, K3 and Toad had been baptized, but shortly after Rascal was born, K2 decided she did not like our church, tried a few others, also decided she didn't like them, and just plain refused to baptize Rascal anywhere.  Since by then DS1 was constantly walking on eggshells to not send her into a wild mental health episode (there were four suicide attempts and at least one OD in the two years before Rascal's birth and the three years after he was born  and before K2 died), Rascal just did not get baptized, no matter what anyone other than K2 thought was good for him.  Now, with it being several years since K2 passed away, and having another child about to be born, DS1 made arrangements--and explained to Rascal why he believes baptism is important--for Rascal to be baptized at the same time as Octavia. K2's brother along with his wife and sons (who live out of state) came to the baptism; it was wonderful to see them there.

--I worked in the garden a lot, catching up on weeding and mulching.  Sweaty, tired, sore, but the garden is looking great finally!  

That is, if you ignore that woodchucks or deer or rabbits ate all my pepper plants off to nubs.  I'm hoping there's time for them to regrow and produce peppers yet this season, but also keeping my ears open for somewhere I can get peppers of the right kinds in bulk when it's time to can salsa (after onions are harvested and once my tomatoes come on) and pickled peppers.

--My hay field finally got cut.  

This spring/summer we've had quite a bit of wet weather.  Which is great for making things grow, but really difficult to plan when to cut hay so that it's not either being laid on wet ground or gets rained on before the hay is dry and baled.  So, I have rather overmature hay (I'll be looking to buy more with better nutritional value elsewhere), but it can at least be fed to the 'air ferns' who get fat just by looking at hay as well as be used as 'busy hay' for feeding in the pastures over the winter or in the stalls on inclement weather days.  The fact that it was cut dry, baled dry, and put in the loft dry takes a load of worry off my shoulders.

Now, hopefully the weather will cooperate to have it grow fast enough that we can get a second cutting done in early to mid-September.  After that, it's really difficult to get hay to dry in Michigan. I'm planning on looking for about 200 bales of second cutting grass/grass mix hay to buy locally in the next month just as insurance that I will have enough hay in the loft to get through to next year's hay season.

                                    

--We got a cold front through on Wednesday night that brought our daytime temps back down into the mid-70s for Thursday and today.  Hooray!  I was out of bread and not really looking forward to heating the house up even more (it's been sitting in the 80s indoors; we don't have AC) by using the oven to bake more bread, so this cold spell arrived just in time.

--DD2 met DH and I yesterday evening for another free concert in the park of the nearby town.  It was an orchestra group made of high school kids from a town about 45 minutes away, and they played Celtic music.  The weather was great, and we had an enjoyable time watching and listening to these talented young musicians.

--When I went to the local Tractor Supply store this week for more broiler chick feed, I saw that they were clearancing out all their Schleich toys at 50% off.  Looking through what was left, I was happily surprised to find four horses that look just enough like the four horses that live at this little place here that I figured my grandkids would love to play 'Grandma's Horse Farm' with them.  So I bought them.  Now there's a herd outside, and a matching herd inside, LOL.

     

                                   

--Yesterday afternoon while I was out replacing some of the t-post insulator caps on my pasture fences (the clips that hold the electric tape had broken off, typically a result of deer trying to go over the fence and hitting it), about 20 feet in front of me popped up the twin fawns that have been living in my greater pasture area this summer.  They didn't run off, but rather stood curiously and watched me work for a few minutes before moving further away.

        
                                                                   

--This morning, DD1, Faline and I went and got hair cuts.  This was Faline's first hair salon experience (DD1 has been trimming it so far).  She will be going into kindergarten in about a month, and is getting to the stage where she wants to brush and fix her hair all by herself, but it was down almost to her waist and just too long for her to manage on her own.  

DD1 has been growing her hair since shortly after Buck was born (he'll be 3 in October) and was ready for shorter hair herself.  Mine hasn't been cut since shortly after K2's funeral in 2023 and has been sorely in need of a trim to even it out.  

So, when DD1 mentioned that she and Faline were going to go have their hair chopped and donate it to one of the foundations that makes wigs for children, I said "sign me up!" 

Both of my daughters have donated their hair twice in their lives; once in elementary school and once about the time they were entering high school, but mine has never been long enough to be donatable without leaving me with hair that would be super short.  Since I like brush-n-go hair (or, more accurately, brush-ponytail or braid-n-go), I didn't want my hair to be shorter than the tops of my shoulders.  It's been really slow growing since I was in my late 20s, and seems like it has taken forever and a day to get to mid-back length, which is where I felt it might be long enough to consider donating.

Come to find out, after I told the stylist at the salon this morning that I wanted my hair to be shoulder-length once the ponytail for donation was cut off and before finishing the cut to even out my remaining hair (because I have naturally curly hair and knew that shoulder-length after cutting would sproing up to closer to chin length when finished), I had 12" of hair to donate, of which about 10" was really usable because my hair has gotten thinner and straggly at the ends the last few years.  

Well, that was several inches more that I'd thought I had of donatable hair, so I told the stylist to go for it!  What the heck, it's hair, it will grow back.  Maybe slower than I'd like, but it would grow back.  As long as I could still get it into a low ponytail for neatness under a riding helmet or to get it off my neck in the summer heat, it didn't really matter how long of hair I was left with.

So she cut it level with the tops of my shoulders.  A nice long chunk to use for making some child's wig.  And, true to form, once it was cut, then washed and trimmed evenly (I told her nothing fancy, just blunt cut because it's almost always pulled back or twisted up into a bun) the curls did their thing and shortened it by another few inches.

Do I love my new short hair?  Meh.  I wear it pulled back 98% of the time anyway, so really it doesn't matter if I like the length of it down. 

What does my family think?  My youngest daughter doesn't remember when I had short hair in 1999.  And none of my grandkids have seen me with hair that didn't go at least several inches past my shoulders. It's going to be harder for them to get used to than it is for me.  And it'll grow.  Right?  Yes, it will grow (do you get the feeling I'm really hoping it picks up the speed at which it's been growing?)  In three or four years (*fingers crossed*) it will be back to a length that braids to about mid-back.

Who is this short-haired woman?!?

I *do* love my new little ponytail poof.

Does DD1 like her new shorter hair (just below her shoulders and she donated a full 12" of usable hair.  I should mention her hair is mostly straight with only a little natural wave.) Yes, she's feeling lighter and freer.

Does Faline like her new shorter (about shoulder length) hair?  Oh yes.  It's swingy now! She also fully enjoyed the beauty salon experience complete with hair wash, trim to a new (very simple) style, and having it blown out by the stylist.

It's been a good week, and I fell like we capped it off with some real warm fuzzies by sending away our hair for someone else to use and enjoy.

Excuse Me, Ma'am, I Think You Dropped Something

 Last summer, the Poetess gave herself toe cracks in both right feet mid-summer by stomping flies.  It took them pretty much all winter to grow out, and that included some packing and wrapping of the affected feet to keep the cracks from getting bigger. Honestly, the rear foot wasn't totally grown past the top edge of the crack when the flies came this spring.

This year, I decided I would be more proactive than just using fly spray, and ordered her a set of Shoofly Leggins.  I had heard good things about them, and decided rather than try similar brands at a lower price, I would shell out the bucks for the real deal.  Afterall, I reasoned, one set of Shoofly's was cheaper than having front shoes put on the Poetess once. Let alone shoes all around (you typically don't shoe just one foot of a pair front or hind.) So if they lasted the whole season, and prevented her feet from cracking and busting up (potentially making shoes necessary), the cost was well worth it.

This post isn't intended to be a commercial for Shoofly's, but I have to say I'm loving them!  And, other than still insisting on lifting her back feet exceptionally high the first 3-4 strides after I put on her Shoofly's every morning, the Poetess seems to also approve.  That front foot hasn't cracked at all so far (fingers crossed I didn't just jinx us by saying that).  The rear foot, while it hasn't cracked, does have a chip out of it currently in the spot near where last year's crack was. (And so this month I'm back to packing and wrapping that one . . .)

But anyway, the real intent when deciding to write this post was to share a picture with you.

This is the Poetess one day last week.  She went to the pasture in the morning with all four Shoofly's on.  She came  in from the pasture at dinner time with only three.  

"Excuse me, Ma'am, I think you dropped something."

After removing all her fly gear and putting her in her stall, then bringing the other three horses into their stalls for the night, I went walking in the pasture the Poetess had been turned out in that day to look for that missing Shoofly.  Being blue, it was easy enough to find in the short green grass.  

I had expected to find it laying open, thinking that I probably hadn't secured the velcro down the entire length it, and that she'd pulled it open by snagging it on something.  Nope, that hadn't happened.  It was still tubular, all velcro attached to itself, as if she'd just plain stepped out of it.  Strange, but okay.  I was glad it was recovered and undamaged.

How she managed to get it off like that, I have no idea.  As if she just took a high step and it slid right off.  Hasn't happened again, so far.  And apparently it wasn't off so long that she stomped a lot from having flies on her legs.  At least, her hoof on that leg looks crack- and chip-free so far.

Horses.  They do the strangest things.

Apparently I'm the Weird One

 Indulge me in a funny little story, and I'll give you a 'custom' recipe at the end.  

Last weekend, I got a text from DD2.  (Which reminds me, I should do an update on DD2--big positive things have happened to her this year!)  She asked for my no bake cookie recipe saying "I thought I had it written down, but I can't find it anywhere.  And none of the ones online have coconut in them."

To which I replied "That's because coconut in no bakes is something I started doing many years ago at your Dad's request."

Then I told her that the coconut came from DH's fond memory of his childhood friend's (the friend with the appliance/home furnishings store at which we buy all our household brand-new big stuff) mother's no bake cookies.  Only she called them 'haystacks' and used no cocoa powder, but lots of peanut butter and coconut in them.  As an adult, DH had lost his fondness for peanut butter, and asked me once upon a time to add coconut to my regular no bake cookie recipe. (side note: all the haystack recipes I've seen use chow mien noodles, but DH insists these haystacks did NOT have chow mien noodles only oats.)

So, every time since then (looking back, I realized it had been definitely more than 22 years, and since DD2 is only 27, she doesn't remember any other way) I have put coconut in my no bake cookies unless we are out of coconut.  And since it's long been my goal to never run out of pantry staples, it's been pretty rarely that I've made 'normal' no bake cookies in this century.

DD2 then texted me back: "I can't believe the coconut is just a Dad preference.  I always thought that was normal for no bakes and have argued the point with friends before because no bakes without coconut are weird to me. But apparently I'm the weird one here."

Which gave us both a good laugh.  But, if you think about it, this is a great example of how our belief system is shaped by what we experience as kids. What we consider normal versus abnormal or weird.

I did let her know how much coconut to put in a to-everyone-but-her normal recipe for no bakes.  She made them for her new housemates and guests (they were having a moving in party), all of whom thought they were the neatest take on no bake cookies ever.  

Here's *my* (and DD2's!) no bake cookie recipe:

2 cups sugar

1 stick of butter (1/2 cup)

1/2 cup milk

pinch of salt

1 tsp vanilla

1/2 cup cocoa powder

3/4 cup creamy peanut butter

1/2 cup shredded coconut*

3 cups rolled oats (or quick oats, if you prefer less 'meaty'/chewy cookies

Top a cooling rack (or two if you don't have a large cooling rack) with waxed paper.

Put the first four ingredients in a medium-large saucepan, and heat over medium heat, stirring occasionally, until butter is melted and the mixture comes to a boil.  Boil and stir one minute.

Shut off burner, and stir in vanilla. Then stir in cocoa and peanut butter until the peanut butter is melted and mixture is smooth.  Add the coconut and oats, stirring until completely combined with the hot ingredients.

Using a large table spoon (like you'd eat with), place cookie mixture by spoonfuls onto the waxed paper.  Let sit until firm and cool.

 * if I'm a little short on oats, I add more coconut to make up the difference.  This helps keep the cookies from being too runny, yet I can still make a batch rather than miss out for want of a half-cup or less of oats.

My Dear Little Friends

 Or, should I say, my little deer friends.

Last year, we noticed that apparently at least one doe thinks our fenced in hayfield/pastures makes a nice safe nursery to leave her fawn in.  We would see that fawn almost daily (and typically in the early morning or dusky evening, the doe in there nursing it) for about two months.  As it got bigger, it got curious as to the goings on in the barn and would venture closer trying to see inside when I was cleaning stalls or feeding horses.  Then, one day, I saw it crawl through the rails of the gate, and out it went into the big wide world, following mama around.

This year, there are two fawns, I'm assuming twins, as I've only seen one doe go inside or jump out of the fenced area.  The fawns, who I've been aware of since late May when they were tiny and rarely seen (unless I happened to ride nearly on top of them while they were curled up in the growing grass of the hayfield), are now to the much bolder and more adventurous stage.  They will stand, thinking I can't see them in the (still, can we please have three dry days without rain?!?) uncut hay, and watch me work horses.

zoomed in, I was about 20 yards away

One morning this week, I walked out to the barn to feed horses their breakfast, and was greeted by this:

not zoomed in, actual distance

They watched me get just a little closer than this, then turned and scampered away into the taller grass.

Pretty soon they will figure out how to crawl through the gate, and then they'll be gone.  Off to the larger field and the woods, and I won't recognize them from all the other local deer when I see them again.  

All I Needed Was a Good Rock

 Now that we have a screen door attached to the door opening between the mudroom and the garage (mentioned here), the regular door there spends quite a bit of time open in order to let the breeze flow through.  But, we've noticed, it is not uncommon for there to be air pressure changes (with all the garage doors open) that 'suck' the mudroom door shut with a bang.  Both defeating the purpose of having that screen door there, and startling us with the random loud noise.

Clearly, I needed to put some sort of doorstop against the mudroom door to hold it open.  I looked around for something that would do (a few other doors have random clay sculptures made by DS2 in high school--as shown in this post) but didn't find anything suitably heavy to hold the door open yet not so bulky it would be hard to move out of the way when we want to shut the door nightly.

Then it hit me: I needed a rock.  Rocks, we have tons of (ha ha, literally).  Rocks of all shapes, sizes, and colors.  Free for the picking out in the field.  All I had to do was go look.

So one afternoon, I did.  I wandered the field for a little bit and was soon rewarded with the perfect rock.  Sorta flat on three edges, tall enough and heavy enough to hold the door, yet easy to nudge out of the way with your foot.  And best of all, it is a bluish gray.  Or grayish blue, depending on how you look at it.

I took it to the house, gave it a good scrubbing, and once dry, put it into place.

Perfect!  It even kind of matches the colors in the vinyl flooring, LOL.

Did I Ever Mention. . .

 That I discovered the joy of cold brewed floral/fruit tea?  

I never liked, and still don't, any kind of tea that contains actual tea leaves (or, really leaves of anything else, including raspberry leaf).  But a while back, I was introduced to tea that is made with flower petals and/or roots and/or bits of dried fruits, and that was a game changer.  I found out I actually do like tea; it just has to be the right kind of tea.

A few of summers ago, I had cold brewed tea for the first time.  Another game changer.  On a stiflingly hot and humid summer day, a nice cup of cold tea from the fridge is delicious.  Again, it has to be the doesn't-contain-any-kind-of-leaf type of tea.

About a year after that, DD2 gave me lid that fits a wide mouth canning jar and comes with a diffuser that screws into the underside of the lid.  Perfect for making my own cold brewed tea.  And I do, particularly during spells of hot weather.

It's very simple:

I put about a tablespoon and a half of whichever tea blend I'm feeling like brewing into the diffuser.  Screw the diffuser to the lid.  Fill a wide mouth pint canning jar with cold water, screw the special lid onto the jar with the diffuser immersed in the water, and put it into the fridge overnight.

The next day, I remove the lid, unscrew the diffuser and put it's sodden contents into the compost bucket, then recover the jar with a solid plastic screw-on lid. (The diffuser lid has a hole in it that you could put a straw in if you wanted to drink straight from the jar.)

Typically I serve myself about 6 ounces at a time, so a pint of cold brew lasts me 2-3 days.

I find that it reminds me of Kool-aid in a vague way; in that at that concentration (1.5 Tbsp tea:16 oz water ) it's got a little bit of sweetness and a good flavor that isn't too watery. I don't add any sugar or anything to it.

 

It's quite refreshing when I'm looking for something other than yet another pint of water to drink. I drink a ton of water every day. Close to a gallon a day during hot weather, and more than a half-gallon daily even in the winter. Rarely anything else other than water, with the exception of hot chocolate in the winter, cold brew tea in the summer and very occasionally a nice heavy dark micro-brewed beer.

Very red tea (this one was Cherry Bang, bought at the Red Bud Cafe in Shipshewana)