A Rainy Day in the Kitchen

It’s yet another dark and rainy day—which, along with uncommonly mild temperatures, has been the default for this winter. No, that’s not fair—there’ve been quite a few beautiful sunny days, too, but it really has felt like a dark, damp winter.

So today, stuck inside with the rain driving down outside, I have spent the day in the kitchen. We started with hashbrowns made from our russet potatoes that DH dug this morning, fried in lard from our neighbor’s pig. Those were pretty dang good. Then for a late lunch we had twice-baked potatoes with smoked sausage, also from our friends, and cheddar cheese. Wow, were those good! But now, being a little burned out on the (admittedly delicious) combination of potatoes and pork, I’m making homemade pop tarts, some chocolate, some blueberry.

Here’s hoping the sun comes out tomorrow.

Paw Paws

Our neighbor brings us a generous bag of paw paws every year. I love them—it’s a magical thing, these tropical fruits that grow here in the mountains. These are the few that are left—we’ve been eating them alone, and putting them in smoothies. I hate to see the last of them—I’ll miss the way they perfume the entire house!

Party Animals

The girls and I stayed out quite late at a party last night—1:30 for me, 2:30 for them! Fortunately it was close enough to walk home from, though I must say that was a long dark walk at 1:30 in the morning, through the woods with no moon. The stars (once I got out into the open) were stunning, though—the sky was so clear it looked like winter!

Hungry?

A friend stopped by with these goodies for the pigs. I think they’ll enjoy some of this deliciousness with their daily ration of milk and produce!

For Stewball

The great song

Even though the world changes like cloud formations
all that is fulfilled returns home to the changeless One.
Above all the turning and changing
wider and freer, remains Your Song,
God with the lyre, God with the heart.

Sufferings have not been learned,
loving has not really been learned,
and what separates us in death
has not been unveiled.
But the Great Song above the earth
hallows and celebrates it all.

- Rainer Maria Rilke, trans. Br. David Steindl-Rast

The Only Constant

This last half of February has been a blessing. The weather has been so springlike and beautiful—it’s supposed to be 71° today!—and I’ve loved being able to make such great strides in the garden so early. DH has loved how little firewood we’ve used, and we’ve all loved how much time we have been able to spend outside.

Last week was a hard week. The untimely death of a friend, and the death of an uncle have brought up a great deal of…stuff. Introspection, musings on mortality, wondering what it’s all about—you know, the usual.

It has also become increasingly apparent that Bernard needs more than she can get from home schooling. She seems to need more mental challenge and certainly more social interactions than she’s getting here with me right now. We’ve been planning for her to go to the early college program starting next fall, but there turned out to be an opening for her right now, so she’s starting tomorrow morning! We’ll take her in tomorrow and get her schedule set up, but after that she’ll be taking the bus. I’m so very happy for her, and so grateful that this program is available to her, but it’s going to be a big change for all of us—I’ve been homeschooling since 1996!

The other change around here is that we’ve all decided to get off facebook for a while. Bernard because she is going to need all her focus for school for the rest of the school year, me because it triggers some addiction part of my brain, and I can’t leave it alone, and ED because she doesn’t really care about it. I’ve just got too much going on to get sucked in on facebook during the day—one of the problems with being at home all the time!

The Smell of Collards

It’s a little stinky in here—there are a couple of vats of collards cooking, and they haven’t quite reached the delicious smelling stage. DH and the girls are in bed, and I’m just finishing up a few things, getting ready for friends to stop by tomorrow for a dose of good luck via black-eyed peas and collards.

I just got an email from a friend who is putting together a group Fedco seed order, and I feel impatient and ready to turn my thoughts to spring and the garden. I have the familiar feeling of relief that Christmas is over and now I can get on with my life; we made it through the darkest part of the year, and although there’s plenty of cold ahead, the light is increasing. I’m grateful for friends and family with whom to celebrate the Solstice—it makes the dark so much more bearable!

Happy New Year everyone!

The Beach

We had a wonderful time on Ocracoke. We kayaked and clammed and fished and ate and bicycled and played cards. Actually, I’m exhausted, and looking forward to a little farming for relaxation!

Our farmsitter did a great job, as usual, though when we first got home, there were some little…mysteries. First, all the clocks in the house were missing, and were later discovered locked in the girls’ bedroom. Second, the lights and fans in my bedroom were all unplugged from their outlets. And third, we found a couple of labels in strange places: A label from a pair of new Schmidt work pants out by the puppy pen, and the label from a bottle of Rebel Yell whiskey on the floor in the kitchen. Interesting, huh?