Garlic, MMMM

 Earlier this week, I harvested my garlic crop.  Last fall, I had planted it in a corner of the garden that I'd piled about four inches deep in (mostly) composted horse manure.  Since garlic is a heavy feeder of nitrogen, and horse manure is pretty high in nitrogen, I was hoping that this combination would yield me a crop of decent sized garlic bulbs.

And, for the most part, it did.  Almost every bulb of garlic I pulled, no matter which of the five varieties I'd planted, was as big as the individually sold heads of garlic in the grocery stores.  And, of a few varieties, there were many garlic bulbs that were close to baseball sized.  I am quite happy with the results of this informal experiment.

Guess how I'll be prepping my garlic beds from now on, LOL.

For the most part, every clove of garlic I had planted last fall grew and yielded a head of garlic this summer.  One variety had a smaller yield, I'd say about 70%, and those were also the smallest bulbs. But of the rest, two varieties gave me 100% of what I'd planted, and two others were more than 95%. 

We've had a couple of days of scattered showers since I harvest the garlic, but on the non-rainy days I've been spreading the garlic out on the front porch in the breeze and (indirect) sunshine in order to dry the necks down and cure the heads.  Once the 'stems' are all dried up, I will cut off the heads and bring them into the basement to separate out the ones I want to save for this year's seed garlic (the largest heads), and store the rest for eating.

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)

Friday Happies

Some things this week that made me happy:

*DH and I had all six 'walking' grandkids (to differentiate those who could get around under their own power from the two infant grandchildren) for a day.  It was complete and utter chaos when DH was in charge (I confess, I took delight in his exhaustion, mainly because this had been his brilliant idea and I'd tried to tell him six kids wasn't going to be as easy and fun as he thought. . .) but when he let me be the boss, there wasn't whining or fussing and everyone moved reasonably quickly when they were told to do or not to do something.  That was the 'happy' part: knowing I was right that it wasn't easy, and secretly enjoying seeing him be overfaced at times.

Part of the day was spent at a local park with a big playground.  When it was time to go (and DH was dragging his feet about rounding up the kids and getting them all into the two vehicles we'd driven), I simply called them all over, asked who wanted a package of fruit snacks --to which they all said ME!-- and told them that as soon as they were buckled into their seats I would hand out fruit snacks.  Five minutes later all six kids had walked willingly to where we'd parked, hopped into the vehicles and, if they were big enough, buckled themselves in.  No fussing, no whining, and all happy smiles.  (Something I learned while raising my four kids mostly by myself while DH's job had him working long hours and/or traveling out of state:  work smarter, not harder.  Be prepared with at least two plans for every situation. Corral the troops, keep morale good, and always be alert for signs of mutiny.)

Rascal and Faline

Buck

L to R: Buck, K3, Rascal, Faline, Sixlet, Toad

*I had a great ride on the Poetess the other day. We canter now during just about every riding session, and she is really getting the hang of transitioning back down to the trot when asked (rather than thinking she should keep on going if I didn't totally throw away the reins).  We've also started riding outside the fenced in area behind the barn, just little short jaunts out a couple hundred yards or so and back, keeping things calm and low-key.  This particular ride we kicked up a fawn while outside the fence, and Poetess did startle when it jumped up in front of her, but then she stopped and stood looking at it rather than wheel and try to run away.  I love this horse; she has a great brain.

*The broiler chicks (and the four little pullets plus our 'free' chick) have moved out of the brooder in the garage and into the grow out pen.  Hooray!  They were getting rather big and stinky for the brooder, and I was getting tired of having to try to shovel it out.  They will now live outside for 3-4 weeks before heading off to freezer camp (and the other five chicks move to the coop with the big chickens).  No more shoveling, just moving the pen to fresh grass daily.

* The long hours of daylight.  I am so solar powered.  And, honestly, I don't mind hot weather nearly as much as I mind cool and damp weather.  I find it much easier to cool myself off than warm myself up, so Summer is probably my favorite season (although I don't think I truly have a favorite).  

*I was able to get with my BFF since 8th grade whom I hardly ever see (but we text and/or message on FB fairly often) and we traded some iris rhizomes.  I gave her a couple that are super dark purple and a black/dark purple with pale lavender standards and she gave me a bright yellow, and a pink that I don't have, plus a couple mixed kinds that aren't exactly the same but similar color combinations to some that I do have. It was great to swap plants, and to see my friend of over four decades.  We're both busy with work, grown kids, and grandkids, so it's been somewhere in the realm of five years since we've spent time face to face.

*The lilies  and drumstick allium are in bloom.

* I found a teeny tiny baby praying mantis on one of my dahlia plants.  It was so small!  Only a little bigger than an inch long.

How has your week been?  What are some of the things you took delight in this week?

The Other New Family Additions

 Without pictures, but I wanted to give recognition to the other three new member of my family in addition to Octavia.

First, is her mom, who shall be known here as Two-EEs.  Because her name is a very popular late 1980s/early 1990's girl's name, only her parents chose to differentiate it from all the other girls of that name by spelling it with two E's.  You'll just have to wonder if she's an  Ashlee, Brittanee, Courtnee, Haylee, Katee, Kelsee, Lexee, Sydnee, Toree. . . 

Next would be Octavia's oldest sister, Two-EEs daughter from her first marriage (pretty much right out of high school).  She lives with her bio dad and step-mom on step-mom's parents' cattle farm, so I don't see her as often as the others.  She's in high school, a member of 4-H and loves raising a steer each year as her project.  Her name shall be Cowgirl.

And then there's Octavia and Cowgirl's brother, Two-EEs son from a different marriage (and, from what I've been told, whose bio dad isn't part of his life) who will turn 4 this November (I think, it's November anyway need to be a good Grandma and verify the date). He absolutely loves tractors and is obsessed with everything tractor related.  So his name obviously is going to be Tractor.  

Which, incidentally, is the nickname one of the softball dads gave DD1 when she was about middle school age and would fearlessly plow through any defensive player blocking the baseline when she was baserunning.  I guess that makes it kind of a family name; I'm hoping that Tractor will, over time, be as comfortable with me being his Grandma as my grandkids who've known me their whole lives are.

Which means that at gatherings of me and DH and our descendants, there now will be nineteen people!  Definitely time to clean out our basement and get it set up for comfortably seating big groups.

Octavia's Quilt

 I decided on a blog name for Grandbaby #8, who has joined us this past weekend.  Going with the numeric theme I unintendedly started with Grandbaby #6, Sixlet, and continued with Grandbaby #7, Lucky, I like Octavia (meaning, eighth) for this next one.  And I have to confess that yes, I do tentatively have a name in mind for Grandbaby #9, if there ever is one, and if it's female.  Time will tell, we'll all have to wait and see on that.

But now is about Octavia, her name official, and the baby quilt I made for her.

Her quilt was completed at the beginning of June, and has been gifted to her and her parents, so therefore I can now publicly show pictures of it!

true to color photo of backing (and a little of the front border)

while I was working on the binding.

Like K3, Toad, and Rascal, her quilt is a simple design of 6" squares of fabric.  That is the design I picked for all my grandkids sired by DS1 back when K3 was born. Like I talked about in this post, it also contains fabrics that are in her older siblings' quilts as well as a fabric that is in her cousin Faline's quilt.

a very untrue-to-actual-colors photo of the quilt top

Right now our weather is way too hot to wrap her up in her quilt.  And she's so tiny (being induced early because her mom was showing signs of going into pre-eclampsia, she weighed in at 5# 11oz) she would get lost in it anyway.  But this quilt is big enough for her to cuddle under for about a decade to come.

For now, here's a picture of her meeting her Papa.

Sixlet, On The Move

 Sixlet, our sixth grandchild, is now 15 months old.  He got the long, skinny (but kind of potbellied) body  type of my side of the family.  He so much looks to be of the bean pole variety so far that we're all expecting he will be taller than his older brother Buck in another year or two.  Poor Buck got DH's big boned-ness (like DD1) but the shorter genes from Honorary Son's side of the family.  

Recently, Sixlet decided it was time to just stand up and walk.  He's been furniture walking for months and months, many months before his birthday, but had preferred to crawl speedily through open spaces rather than worry about balancing himself when there's nothing to hold onto.  With grass growing outside and the weather being warm enough for shorts rather than pants, he had to debate the prickly feel of grass on his bare knees and shins versus the effort of balancing to walk unassisted.

The mildly unpleasant feel of grass on skin won out, and now he walks everywhere. Almost as if he's been doing it forever, not just a week or two.

watching Faline's T-ball game

With his strawberry blond hair, and the fact that because of his need for length, most of his clothes are kind of big around/baggy looking, this picture of him in this outfit makes me think he's auditioning for a mini Steve Irwin role.

Time will tell if he's actually an intrepid outdoor adventurer. Thus far, all indications are yes.

Randomosity

A bunch of random stuff from recently.

The peonies here are nearly done for the year.  Last week, they were blooming in full bore, and I cut some for bringing inside.  They replaced the vase of irises that had been on the kitchen island, and infused my kitchen with that peony/rose-like aroma.

The vanilla extract I started in April (mentioned in this post) has now steeped it's minimum two months before using, and just in time because I ran out of the previous batch at the end of May.  This is how it looks now

compared to what it looked like in April when I started it

DH and I observed our 32nd wedding anniversary by attending a local free concert that evening.  We got take out Cuban sandwiches (he got chips and pop with his, I got a slice of cheesecake with mine), and ate our dinner while sitting in the park listening to the concert.  The band played 70s and 80s music, right up our alley.  In addition to the good music (all of which we knew and most of which I sang along to) the weather was absolutely perfect and there were no mosquitos!

Another night, I made a batch of pepperoni calzones for dinner.  It's been a while since I had made them, and we were also out of what I call 'lunch box food' in the freezer--homemade stuff I can toss in DH's lunch box for when he has to work in-office rather than from home.  So they killed two birds with one stone: a yummy dinner plus three days worth of lunch box entrees for the freezer.

DD1 had a doctor appointment, and asked me to watch Faline, Buck, and Sixlet for a few hours while she was at that.  DH wrapped up his work a little early, and went with me to their house.  The kids were surprised that he came too (they'd only expected me), and they put him to work.  Faline wanted to show us how she can ride her bike, but sadly reported she couldn't because the chain was off.  Well, DH had her get it out, and he proceeded to do a tutorial in bike repair, which Faline and Buck watched raptly.  Now Faline knows how to put a chain back on a bicycle (whether or not her little arms and fingers have the strength to do it herself next time remains to be seen).

Waste Not, Want Not

 This Spring, when we had tornadoes nearby that gave us straighline winds at 100 mph and there were some cosmetic damages to the house and shop at this little place here, one of the casualties was the screen/storm door we've had on our front door for almost 20 years.  It got ripped open, and the closing mechanisms (top and bottom) were badly bent.  One of the hinges was also damaged.  So, our homeowners insurance approved us for a new one.  Being set in my ways and if I like something I typically like it forever no matter what newer stuff comes out, we ordered an identical screen door to replace it.  It took a while to arrive, and then it sat in the garage for a couple of weeks before DH decided it was time to remove the old one (we'd had that door locked shut for months since the storm in order to keep it from flapping) and install the new one.

That's actually not where this story really begins.  For years, DH has off and on speculated if we should add a screen door to the door that sits between the garage and the mudroom.  It is the door we use most often, and we've always thought, due to the location, and the ease of not having two doors to open just to get into and out of the house, that it didn't need a screen door.  However, in the summer, since we don't have air conditioning, our house does get rather hot at times, and DH has wondered if having a screen door in that spot might allow more air flow through the mudroom and kitchen (and therefore into the rest of the house) by being able to open the regular door while still keeping out bugs (and critters).  His thought was that with two huge north-facing garage doors open, that would let a whole bunch of coolish air into the garage, and with just a screen door between the garage and mudroom, the coolish air would get sucked into the house.

Being that money at this little place here nearly always has a better designated purpose than a full length screen door for a spot you usually don't put a screen door, we never bought one.  But now, now we had a 'perfectly good' (if you don't need a closing mechanism, or mind one hinge being marked up from being pounded back into relative straightness) screen door for no cost.  That 'perfectly good' door being the old one from the front door.  

When he removed the broken one from the front of the house and installed the new perfect screen door, he decided to see if he could adjust the broken one to be straight enough to latch without having to be jimmied into position and then locked to keep it there.  So he did some clamping and banging out in the shop, then brought the door into the garage, where he flipped it (having been a left hand swing at the front door and now needing to be a right hand swing to work in the garage where you came up the porch from the left side of the door) and screwed it into place.  

Well, it fit the opening fine.  But it didn't latch.  Something about the flipping to reverse direction and the jamb of the existing garage/mudroom door he was trying to attach it to didn't quite work as well as he'd thought it would.  After about three hours of fuc--- messing with it (now 10 p.m. when at 7 he'd thought it would be a 15 minute install) he called it quits for the night.  Hopefully sleeping on it would provide the insight he needed in how to correct whatever the root of the problem was.

The next day was the one I left to go to Shipshewana with DD1, DD2 and the granddaughters.  The door was hung in place, but didn't latch.  Sometime after work that day, DH worked on it again.  He came up with a solution.  A little unorthodox (removing something on the frame usually considered necessary), but it did the trick.  When I returned from Shipshewana, I was surprised and delighted to find a screen door between my mudroom and garage that latches without being locked!

garage side

mudroom side

Is it beautiful and undented and scratch free?  No.  Does it hang properly in the opening and latch closed easily?  Yes.  Does it have a closing mechanism that lets it open only so far and then slowly brings it closed again?  Nope.  Does it really need one in the location it's now in?  We don't think so.

Most importantly, when you open the overhead garage doors and then open the door between the mudroom and the garage, does a cool breeze come into the mudroom and kitchen through the screen door?  Oh heck yes, it does!

And, during the cooler months of the year, when we won't want to leave the solid door open so don't really need a screen door there, we'll just open the screen door all the way, and block it open resting flat on the garage wall (out of the way) so we won't need to open and close two doors all winter while going into or out of the mudroom from the garage.  Brilliant!

We're really glad DH thought to try to salvage the broken door and see if it was usable in this space, where he'd thought a screen door might actually be beneficial, rather than just tossing it into the trash when he installed the replacement screen door.  Kept it out of the landfill (or, at least, the parts that wouldn't have gone to the scrap metal pile) and fulfilled a need we weren't even totally sure we had.

Waste not, want not.

As a bonus, it makes a really cool 'snick' sound when it latches shut.  Brings up childhood memories of running out screen doors belonging to our grandparents back in the day.

The Shipshe Trip

 Shipshe being the dialectual shortening of Shipshewana, the town in Indiana not far from the Michigan/Indiana border known for it's Amish community.  In the past 10 or so years, I and one or both of my daughters plus a granddaughter or two, have done an overnight trip to there annually or biennially for some time away from home, men, and general life responsibilities.  

We always stay at the same hotel, the Farmstead Inn, which is typically peaceful and quiet, clean and well run, and provides a hot breakfast along with many choices of cold breakfast if that is your preference.  

Over the years, we've found which places we like to shop at or otherwise just revisit, which places we like to dine at, and have developed a routine for our trip.  It's always a summer trip, being that it's hard for DD1, a teacher, to get away during the school year.  Also, the flea market in Shipshewana is open Tuesdays and Wednesdays from Memorial Day to Labor Day.

Initially, the flea market was our main destination.  However, in recent years, we spend less and less time at the flea market (which seems to have become less of a handmade/Amish made market and more of the types of goods you'd find at pretty much any flea market anywhere in the US).  Our main targets are 

• the Davis Mercantile with Lolly's Fabrics, Simple Sounds (a music store with instruments and sheet music and all things instrumental), a candy store, a puzzle/toy store, and random other stores (typically we skip most of the random others); 
• Yoder's Hardware and Yoder's Department Store; 
• The Redbud Coffee and Tea Cafe in the Red Barn (very delicious tea blends including my favorite--those with no leaves!  since I don't like traditional tea, only floral/fruit ones); 
• Yoder's Meat and Cheese Co, 
• and of course the grocery store E&S Sales.

There are lots and lots of other shops and attractions in Shipshewana, but the ones I listed are on our 'Must See' list and are places we go to every time.  After this most recent trip, however, I'm wondering if in the future we need to extend our trip by a day in order to have more time to explore more of what's there (most shops are open only until 5:00 p.m.), or if perhaps I need to maybe do a separate trip without the group. . . I'd love to take a 'just me and DH' trip to Shipshe, but I don't think he'd enjoy it quite as much as I do.  For one thing, I'm fairly sure the hotel doesn't allow alcohol, which is fine with me (and one reason I love staying there), but is a hard thing for him to find enjoyable on a 'vacation'.

Anyway, we got to Shipshewana around 1:00, which gave us time to hit the Davis Mercantile first, and not have to rush through Lolly's.  Lolly's always takes time, partly because the sheer size of the store and their offerings, and partly because they have a boat which is always overflowing with fat quarters.  Looking through the boat can easily take more than an hour.  

As soon as we walked through the door, Faline went right to the boat and quite literally dove in.

Once we convinced her that being in the boat wasn't allowed, she found a shopping basket and proceeded to put all the fat quarters with fabrics she liked into the basket.  According to her, her Barbies were in need of pillows and blankets made with fabrics that featured bananas, hot dogs, flowers, stripes, fish, and more.  DD1 talked her down to just two or three of the fat quarters she had chosen.

My personal mission at Lolly's was to get fabric for two flannel nightgowns: one for Faline (she'd called me two weeks before to ask me to sew her a new nightgown because the one I had sewed her previously had 'suddenly' gotten too small) and one for K3 (if she should want one; she did.)  I let each girl pick the fabric for their own nightgown and had it cut to the length needed before I allowed myself to figuratively dive into the boat and look at fat quarters. Of which, I very responsibly limited myself to two.

A thunderstorm blew up unexpectedly, and we got drenched going from the Mercantile to where we'd parked.  Our original plan for this trip had included a swim in the hotel pool after Davis Mercantile and before going out to dinner.  With our wet clothes and hair, we all were chilled and decided to just hang out in our room for a bit after checking in, and move the swim to after dinner.  There was some bored shenanigans from Faline (it's tough being 4 years old and having to wait for the grown ups), but overall she was pretty good with waiting and hung out on one of the beds with K3 watching a video on K3's phone.

After a good dinner from the buffet at the Blue Gate Restaurant, the girls did finally get to go swimming.  We all went to the hotel's indoor pool and swam, played in the water, and relaxed in the hot tub for well over an hour.  The only picture I took was at the end, when Faline and K3 were putting their wet towels into the bin for housekeeping to launder.  The whole trip, Faline was totally hero worshipping her older cousin, and thankfully K3 was willing to go along with being the cool chosen one.

A new tradition we started on our last trip, in 2023, is to hit the breakfast area beside the pool area after we finish swimming.  There is ice water and hot water available there 24/7 (as far as we can tell, we've never checked after 9 p.m. or before 6 a.m.), as well as tea bags, instant coffee, and hot chocolate packets.  I didn't believe it until I tried it for myself, but a cup of hot chocolate after swimming on a summer evening is actually really good.  Rather than making you feel too hot, it's just kind of cozy.  Maybe if you don't have long, wet hair your experience might be different.  But for all us chicks with long tresses, a good cup of hot chocolate post swimming pool is enjoyable.

The next morning, while sitting in the breakfast area savoring our hot breakfast (egg burritos, biscuits and gravy, scrambled eggs, sausage. . .), Faline commented that there was a playground outside and that she'd never gotten to play on it before.  Indeed, out the large windows of the breakfast area, you could see a nice playground belonging to the hotel.  And, indeed, on previous trips, Faline (or K3) had not had the opportunity to play there.  So I asked, since both she and I were done with our breakfasts, if she wanted to go back to the room with me so I could finish packing up my stuff, and then I would take her to the playground to wait for the rest of our group to be done eating and packing.  Of course she said yes!

Once out there, she had to try out every slide and swing and the teeter-totter (yes, this grandma attempted to teeter-totter with someone about 1/2 my height and roughly 1/4 my weight; it was hard on the knees, LOL).  I was amazed, after the first big push I gave her on the first swing, to see her keep the momentum going by pumping her legs.  Apparently pumping is a newly acquired skill for her.

Once we checked out of the hotel, we began our shopping excursion at E&S Sales.  In addition to great fresh baked goods (Whoopie Pies, anyone?), they have lots of scratch and dent, close dated, and bulk food items.  I typically stock up on some bulk spices I can't find around home in bulk (such as bay leaves for soups, marinades and canning dill pickles), as well as random candy (typically chocolate, plus a bag of Bit-o-Honey for DH).

The food purchases, mostly from E&S, but meat and cheese from Yoder's

Next stop on our planned route (which, after E&S, had us making all right turns onto and off of the main road through town until, at the last, we had to turn left to get into the Yoder's Shopping Center for the hardware and department stores ), was the flea market.  Splitting into three groups for most of that part of the morning, I think we made it through the 40ish acres of flea market in record time: about 1 1/2 hours!  Like I mentioned before, a lot of the flea market has become things you can find at just about any flea market, so we cruised right on past many, many booths without stopping to look individually at their items.  I did pick up a few things, as shown in the photo below.

Rubberized gardening gloves for weeding in dewy/wet conditions,

teal blue duct tape for using in the barn (because it doesn't have to be gray or black),

a leaping deer cast iron bottle opener for DH (only $2!!)

After the flea market, we went to the Auction House restaurant for a yummy lunch.  I think they've changed hands again since we were there in 2023, or at least, their menu has changed.  The food was still good, but with the exception of their traditional included side dish of applesauce, coleslaw or cottage cheese with every meal, and the selection of pies for dessert, not much of the menu of stereotypical Amish foods (like the awesome chicken and noodles) from the previous ownership (2020 and prior) remains.  I was a little bummed out that it had a lot of typical burger/sandwich fare with french fries these days.  The BBQ pulled pork sandwich I had was good, but it wasn't those chicken noodles I'd been dreaming of when planning the trip.

More shopping ensued after lunch. Due to where at the flea market we'd parked, Yoder's Red Barn Shoppes and Yoder's Meat and Cheese Co were on our way from the restaurant to our truck, so we walked and stopped at each.  The meat and cheese store has delicious offerings; their smoked gouda is a family favorite. In fact, Honorary Son had asked DD1 to bring home 5 pounds of it!  

Once finished up there, we packed our meat and cheeses into our cooler, tucked everything else into the bed of the truck, and drove to our last stop: Yoder's Shopping Center.  I love looking at fabric in the Department store, but I also love going to the Hardware.  Before I left home, DH asked what I could possibly want from that hardware store that I couldn't get from any of the hardwares near home.  I then had explained that they have way more than nuts and bolts and tools and hoses.  They have beekeeping and syrup making and wine making and canning and baking supplies, as well as tons of off-grid living type stuff, livestock supplies and even puzzles and toys for kids.

I treated myself to, from the Hardware, 

• a new large frosting spreader (my other one having gotten loaned out a handful of years ago and never returned), 
• a French style rolling pin (something I've been considering for a number of years), 
• a new clothespin bag to replace one I'd sewn many years ago that is on it's last legs and I doubt I'll have time this summer to whip up a new one, 
• two nice dish cloths (Rada, I believe; they sell Rada there) with pale green stripes.  Because, while I have, and love, my other Rada dishcloths, none of them have green! (Green being my all time absolute favorite color.)
• a pie crust decorative cutter, which is something I'd never heard of before but was instantly enamored with.  I don't typically make two-crust pies, now I guess I'm going to have to make them more often so I can use my fancy cutter.  I mean, look at that super cool crust on the label!

At the Department store, I reined myself in.  Before leaving home, I'd sternly told myself that other than flannel for granddaughters' nightgowns, I don't need more fabric.  *Sigh*  But there's so much lovely fabric in Shipshewana. . .  So I only allowed myself a few remnants (1/3yd each), two fat quarters, and a 2 1/2 yard piece of bubble gum pink cotton that I intend to sew Faline a surprise summer weight nightgown with.  I did good.  It hurt to leave so much loveliness behind, but I controlled myself.

Flannels and flannel fat quarters and a hot pad pattern from Lolly's,

pink cotton, remnants, thread and fat quarters from Yoder's Department Store.

It was a good trip.  Both in fellowship with my daughters and granddaughters, and in the items on my lists that I managed to bring home with me.  I really would like to go back and check out some of the places I've never been that we just didn't have time for.  Although I think I need to do a whole lot of sewing first, and use up at least a double digit percentage of my fabric stash.  Because I'm not sure I can be so good a second time at not buying all the pretty fabric.  =0)