Make the days count

Yesterday was a gorgeous gift of a day, and probably the last dry one in Seattle for a long time to come. 

I got in some yard work, then gathered up this scrappy fall bouquet of odds and ends. In the mellow afternoon light, it looked like a Dutch master painting. 

 

And why wait for a cold, damp day in December for this chore? 

The new arbor isn't as tall as the old one, much less, crumbling to pieces, so the job was easier. I also put blinding white LED lights in the greenhouse window, so we are lit up like Las Vegas when we eat our dinner in the kitchen. Let's just call it cheerful. 

That's about all the November news. 

Pear creativity

 

 

In a nutshell, that's how to make spiced pear butter, an unusual and expensive treat. I found a online specialty store selling little jars for $10.

Made just like the old fashioned apple butter, except this recipe is spiced with cardamon and nutmeg instead of cinnamon, along with ginger and lemon juice. (An Indian spice, I know our Grammy never heard of cardamon!)  

John did the milling, then the pear puree gets cooked down like jam to the tricky gel point (my job) making a nice mess of the stove top as it blurps away. But well worth the trouble. Think apple pancakes (above) or toast or cornbread or biscuits or even ice cream.

Hopefully the first of many delicious pear concoctions from the family orchard.  

Gettin' it done

 

It took eleven strong lifters (good friends all) to get this heavy chicken house hoisted up on a borrowed flat bed truck yesterday. Then the hens made the six mile trip over to the new farm in the back of Tom's truck. 

Their next door farm neighbor helped get it situated on the property with his tractor. How kind and helpful people are-- just a tiny rural community on the edge of the wilderness. 

As of last night, the hens were settled and apparently none the worse for wear. I don't know about the humans! This last moving crunch has been really tough on everyone.

But look at that perfect fall weather-- a real blessing how the snow is still holding off this month. Which probably means the first blizzard when we go over for Thanksgiving. 

Marching along

 

The middle of November is already in sight and we're just over a month away from the winter solstice, that happy day when we slowly tip back to more light. Speaking of light, after the deluge yesterday, what a surprise to see an actual sunrise this morning and a bit of blue sky.

Snow is falling in the high mountains but has fortunately held off so far in the Methow Valley. Amanda and Tom are on the final countdown to get everything out of their old house in town, then cleaned up and ready for the renters on the 15th. That last stage of moving is always such a mess on both ends. 

The cats are now moved (one happy, one not) but the chicken house with its inhabitants is still a big looming project. Those 12 hens are worth their weight in gold, laying a dozen or so perfect eggs every couple days. They're useful not just for the food, but the amount of kitchen scraps they consume daily. Anyway, I hope they can get them safely settled for the long upcoming winter. Maybe Amanda will send some pictures this weekend. 

Speaking of fowls. John is excited this morning because I gave him a WHOLE chicken to cut up. He's been watching YouTube videos and I'm sure has the perfect knife to break it down with surgical precision. A yucky task I've done hundreds of times, just because whole chickens were once much cheaper than cut up.

Have a good weekend. 

 

  

 

Drawing in

 

"The nights are drawing in." That's an old English saying, meaning the days are getting shorter.

Good reading weather. I'm looking forward to Irving's new novel, hot off the press. The last full price hard cover novel I purchased was Irving’s "The Last Chairlift," and it was a big slog at 912 pages. 

Well, hope springs eternal. Supposedly Irving "gets back to his New England roots" in this one, whatever that means. I've been an Irving fan since the 1970's, and during the pandemic, reread just about everything he wrote. The violence (and downright cruelty) in some of those early books took me by surprise once again. Irving is famous for the long "story within the story" plot, which drives some readers crazy.

I haven't read any "Esther" reviews yet and don't intend to until I finish it. There won't be a publicity tour either. John Irving, longtime resident of Vermont, lives in Toronto.  Quote from a recent interview he did with the NYT:  

“I could not, would not, in good conscience go to my birth country,” Mr. Irving said, “when there is such an authoritarian bully in the White House, and when the craven Republicans in the House and the U.S. Senate are complicit in their silence.”

OK then. Still opinionated at age 83.

Not much news here, just one atmospheric river after the next drenching the northwest. I haven't been to ukulele for a few weeks but will go today, out of practice of course, but no one cares or notices. In the winter we meet at The Bridge restaurant on a covered outdoor patio, where the temperature is something between warm and cold. 

 

Wordless Wednesday

 

 

Portrait of Dora Maar, Picasso, 1937

Sore thumbs, etc.

 

 

The afternoons suddenly start to drag when we go off daylight savings time. I'll look up and think how can it be only 2 o'clock? 

I been working on this piece of embroidery forever. Really more tedious than fun, but relaxing to focus the eyes on something other than a screen. 

Not to mention, good for the hands. I thought "texting thumb" came from writing messages with your thumbs (I peck everything out with my index finger) but actually it's a pain at the base of the left thumb caused by clenching the phone for hours on end. Pitiful thing to admit. 

How did we amuse ourselves before we had phones and computers? 

Cleaning out bookshelves, I found this battered old Norton Anthology of English Literature, saved from my English major undergraduate days in the early 70's. 

Speaking of patience, not to mention visual acuity, the tissue thin pages are covered with my intense pencil notes. 

Does anyone even read Chaucer anymore? I would be hard pressed to still decipher it. But I'm grateful for that cheap and excellent liberal arts education at San Diego State. Young people want more practical degrees now, understandably, when you consider the financial investment. 

  

Weekend update

 

 

Well, well. The first taste of delicious organic pear from Amanda and Tom's new backyard. 

 

A food mill seemed like a good investment with an orchard in the family. Ordered from Amazon and not cheap, but I like OXO Good Grip products. Anyway, if the pears I brought home all ripen at about the same time, I'll cook up a batch of pear butter. John can do the "milling" part which looks tedious even with a fancy new gadget. 

The big move is moving ahead full steam this weekend in Twisp. Nica and Millie here know something is up, and taking no chances being left behind. Amanda says as they move things in, the new house becomes more bright and inviting as the old place looks more dark and chaotic. That's how it should feel! Everyone is excited for them starting this new life. 

It absolutely poured rain on Halloween night, but we still had 75 or so trick-or-treaters at the door. The kids were polite and the parents said "thank, you ma'am" which made me feel old. 

It's true-- we're the senior citizens who have lived in the same house on the corner since before many of those parents were born.

People are friendly, but this has never been a neighborhood where we socialize, at least not inside. I guess Halloween is an excuse to get a little peek into houses that people walk and drive by every day. Folks are always very interested in ours. Like I say, been here a long time. 

What did you do with your extra hour today? Sleep? I made a cake and John a final lawn mow for the year. That's about it for outside, other than leaves still to rake. Yard, see you in February, we're about to hunker down. 

 

 

Halloween scares

 

 

What a shame-- pouring rain and windy for trick-or-treating tonight. Maybe the turnout will be lighter, but in recent years, we've had 50 kids or more at the door, usually with wet parents hovering in the background. In the old days, Amanda and her friends struck out into the neighborhood alone, which was pretty exciting. 

Speaking of real scary stuff, how about this too realistic "Kitty Litter Cake." It was made by my neighbor from an old family recipe and apparently, a big hit at kid's parties. 

 You guessed it-- those are melted Tootsie Rolls. 

 

  

Busy, busy computer

 

The company I used for years to make these beautiful hard cover blog books went out of business. I got behind on the project, with about a four year backlog now. Each book covers only about 6 months, so some catching up to do. 

The books are expensive, but gosh, we think it's worth it preserve all that family history. Blogs can crash, get lost or deleted in a moment of carelessness. Google could just decide they're done supporting the old Blogger platform. Goodby, all 4,745 posts. Maybe vanity, but I'd be heartbroken to lose what has become my life's work in many ways. 

 

 

 

Anyway, I found a new printing company. The books look different but still nice. I've bought two so far.

 

The problem is the process of uploading my blog to their site-- and their clunky interface for designing the books. My laptop was grinding away all morning for nothing. I'll just have to start again from scratch tomorrow. 

.

 

Speaking of from scratch, these rustic tarts are fun to make and less fuss than pie. Just a simple butter crust topped with sliced apples (Honeycrisp from Lone Pine) and toasted walnuts. Yes, pears would work. 

 

National Cat Day

 

"If she had seen you, 

I should never have seen you again, that is all,"

replied Mamma.

There are most likely mice and pack rats in the orchard's several old outbuildings. How could there not be?  

 

Farmers once considered a good ratter/mouser the most valuable animal in the barn. Breed is a factor, but kitty temperament and upbringing (as in no spoliing) is more important in the making of a good hungry barn cat. 

Too late for that here. The family cats, "Georgia" and "Millie" are in for a rude moving surprise. 

 

As we know, cats hate change, and these butterballs are just settling in for their usual winter semi-hibernation in front of the wood stove. But I have a feeling the Russian stove will do nicely. 

In good weather, both cats do a little light mousing around the yard, but a whole new wild world awaits these city slickers.  Coyotes are common (yikes) and a black bear seen in the orchard recently. The property is adjacent to the wilderness Golden Doe Wildlife Unit, with cougars, moose and plenty of mule deer. 

We've  hiked in the beautiful place several times. Now, we can walk in from the back of the orchard.

 

Home sweet farm

 

The orchard with almost three acres of trees, and not just pears. Get out the canner.

 Tom contemplating kitchen painting projects...

 

And getting right to work outside...

Maya in front of the beautiful Russian wood stove...

(Going to be a learning curve there.) 

 Tom and Amanda in the sweet dining room...

Pears, pears, pears...

And Nica, already a country dog. 

Wishing them a safe and quick move to the new home. They need to be completely out of their old one by November 15th for the renter.