Home Chores: Mom vs. Dad

Great color for the pump house, not so much my hair.

The house painter is here as I write, patching, caulking and priming the exterior of our house to get it ready for painting, which will hopefully happen next week. Tuesday I went to the stylist to get my hair cut and as she was washing my hair, she asked, "so...doing some painting?" Apparently there were a couple of different shades of paint I'd somehow gotten into my hair while I was painting walls and a couple of outbuildings around here, before the painter showed up for the Big Job. 

I'm of the opinion that when you start to wear your work it's probably time for a break. 

I used to have some neighbors who had a very clear division of labor in their home: mom took care of everything inside -- cooking, cleaning, laundry, etc -- and dad took care of everything outside, like yardwork. Since mom had no interest in gardening, their roles were enjoyed by both and their house was run well. What was funny was that I was a single mom at the time I lived next door to them, and so I started to realize that around my place, I was both mom and dad. I still am to some extent.

That's because Big Ag works off property in a high-powered job in the agriculture sector, which leaves me pretty much in charge of the homestead. The things I can't do, he gets memos on, in the form of "to do" lists. Anything that requires significant upper body strength I leave to him. So he stretches fence, digs holes, and builds outbuildings in his spare time, which believe it or not, he loves doing, since most of his day job uses brain, not muscle power.  

I do all the typical housewifery-type stuff, but also work in the garden, manage the general landscaping, do the painting (wherever possible) and decor, and manage our finances.

I'll never hire someone to pick our pumpkins. Too much fun.

It works, but honestly after a day of being on a ladder painting or moving 10 yards of pea gravel, the last thing in the world I want to do is come inside, clean house and cook. And so on the days when I'm the Estate Manager and Chief Handyman (dad), those mom things suffer. I've joked before that all I really need to do is hire a professional housewife from 9 - 5 to manage all that inside stuff when I've got a lot of manual labor to do outside. But with the painters here, I've actually had time to clean the house really well, can some tomatoes, AND have some good food prepared by the end of the day.  

When I worked at the winery, I had a housekeeper, so many of my "mom" tasks were covered by her. This week, I'm paying someone to do some "dad" stuff. You can probably gauge how busy you are at times by how many auxiliary people you need to hire to help you. But unless your homestead is your job, some aspect of what you do is probably hired out, whether it's the construction people, electricians, or just hitting a restaurant for take out dinner once or twice a week because you're too tired to cook.

None of us can do it all, and even if you could, you shouldn't even try. It's exhausting, plus there's every chance you'll end up resentful over some aspect of your never-ending tasks.

But in a year full of dad-type house stuff, I gotta say being inside with a latte preparing dinner has been a little slice of mom heaven. 

Summer's End

One of the things I love most about life in the Pacific Northwest is the seasonal changes. No season ever wears out its welcome by sticking around too long. I'm especially happy about that when it comes to summer, whose backside I've never been sorry to see -- even up here. This year we had two days of 100 degree-plus temperatures, a handful of 90 degree temps, but mostly our summer stayed in the 70s and 80s. Perfect.

The lawn at our newly-bought home did turn brown in July and August since the property has no irrigation. Early in August, when we were sick of looking at it, we briefly entertained the idea of putting in some sprinklers, but with .75 inches of rain later that month and the same so far in September, it's all greened up nicely -- and quickly.

There is a three week difference in when these photos were shot. What a difference an inch of rain makes!

The one downside to those mild temps and rain is that my tomato harvest has really come in slowly. This necessitated a new protocol for canning, which is actually not canning this year. Instead of running the water bath canner for just one or two quarts of tomatoes, instead I've started blanching bowls of tomatoes as they come in and then vacuum freezing them. Next year I'm planning on planting a variety of tomato called "4th of July," which as you've probably guessed, is an early ripening variety. Live and learn.

We do have plenty of pumpkins for pies and bread this winter; squash, eggplants and cukes are just about done, so the only thing left in the ground are some late season lettuce and onions. All in all, I'd say our 2019 garden was a success, and we'll expand next year with more raised beds as well as some fun new galvanized troughs for planting containers.

When we weren't in the garden or fixing things around the house we were installing and painting a new chicken mansion for the girls. It's 8 x 10 feet inside, so in the rainy season they will still have plenty of room to scratch and peck. Unreasonable, you say? Nope. Not when it rains 48 inches a year.

La Poulet Mansion

Sadly, we lost two of our favorite hens -- Callie and Chloe -- in that weird 2-day heatwave, probably due to their age. So yesterday I headed to the feed store to get two fall chicks. Ella and Esme will take their place in the flock for spring laying, provided they are both hens, which the feed store only provides a 90 percent guarantee on (so fingers crossed). But for now it's been fun having them peeping and cheeping in the dining room, where they'll live until they're ready to go outside (hopefully before Thanksgiving).

The next and last big push will be to paint our pump house, front door, garden shed and shop before the regular rains set in. We're hoping the painter can paint the house by then, too. But since it's still a little chilly outside right now, I think I'll have a cup of tea, kick my feet up and watch my new chicks explore their world!

The forecast: Foggy, with a splash of autumn.

Acquisitions and Harvests

Still blooming.

Well, things around the homestead have settled down nicely in the time since I've last blogged.

We measured and saw that we now have 100 feet of standing water above our well pump, which in a time of drought is a very good thing and gives us confidence of good water for years to come. 

Partial autumn harvest. and gorgeous corn

The pumpkin harvest came in in fits and starts, but we probably got at least 50 pounds worth of orange-y goodness, which will keep us in pies, soups and bread this year.  And my "glass gem" corn is ready to harvest and is prettier than I ever imagined it would be. Really, it is amazing! I am saving enough to plant next year, and giving a lot away to friends who are suitably impressed when I show it to them (amazing how I can work the phrase, "would you like to see my rare corn?" into so many conversations.)

"Have you seen my rare corn?"

My other news is a great boon for us...we are now in escrow for the 2 1/2 acres of property which lies directly to the west of ours. It's a large, unimproved west-facing slope that allows the entire hill to belong to one owner -- us. It's great for two reasons: First, because it guarantees our view into perpetuity -- no one can ever build on it and obstruct our views of the Coast Range, which from our back porch runs from San Luis Obispo all the way up to Cone and Serra Peaks in Big Sur (truly, we have one of the best views in the county but up until this moment, it could have vanished if the lot next door to us sold to someone who wanted to build at the top of the hill). 

The other boon for us is that our septic leach field is located on this other property, which could cause huge problems if it was ever owned by someone other than us!  This is something we did not realize until after we moved in, and so it's been a little tense figuring out just how to deal with it.

And both those things will make our place a better real estate value, always a good thing to know in uncertain financial times, which I think we've basically been living in since 2008 or even 2001, depending on where you sit on the Pessimism Scale.

I'm on the Optimism Scale and enjoying it!

Our view is too large to fit. Graphic design folk, turn your head.

Pumpkin Day

Next week may be Turkey Day, but here at the homestead today was Pumpkin Day.  Pumpkin Day is when all the pumpkins (the ones I grew over the summer and harvested back in September) become pumpkin puree, so they can go into all kinds of delicious seasonal dishes.

Pumpkin Day is very different from Pumpkin Spice Day, which happens in the stores and shops around August and has absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with real pumpkins. It's now possible to have pumpkin bagels, pumpkin coffee, and pumpkin fabric softener, all of which contain NO pumpkins whatsoever (maybe a good thing in the case of the last item).

Just roast.... (two of about 15 total)

If you've ever grown pumpkins before, you know that not only do all pumpkins not look alike, they don't taste alike either, despite sharing pasture/garden space and being the same type of seed (in this case, Sugar Pie). You can even harvest them all on the same day, after all the vines have died back, only to discover some are more ripe than others.

They are damn individualists. A little like people, no?

Anyway, regardless of their shape and size, today is the day when I grant them equal rights to be delicious and cook them all to where they are discolored and droopy, nice and soft, and scoop out the seeds for the chickens, then puree the rest of the meat. Some puree is for now, some for next week, some for the bleak midwinter, when there's nothing more comforting than a nice batch of pumpkin bread or pumpkin soup.

One important thing to remember about cooking whole pumpkins is that the less-ripe ones will need more oven time than more-ripened ones. And you can tell more ripe from less ripe by the inside color. A deep, bright orange means it is ripe. A more pale orange means less. But if you cook the less-ripe ones enough, they are just as edible as their more attractive and ripe siblings (as long as they are fairly ripe -- no green should be present). I do recommend mixing them all together before pureeing however, so you hit a nice middle note between the ripe and not-as-ripe. 

Gut....

The other thing to note regarding cooking whole pumpkins is that, unfortunately, real pumpkins cooking in your oven do not smell nearly as inviting as pumpkin spice goodies do, so my advice is to burn a candle or enjoy a pumpkin-flavored latté while your gourds cook.

Once you are done, your pureéd pumpkin can be stored in the freezer for several months, if you can make it last that long. I have yet to get to Valentine's Day with any left. And since it's not exactly something you crave in summer, my advice is to wallow in its real, natural deliciousness while you can.

There's always plenty of the artificially-flavored stuff to tide you over 'till the season rolls around next year.

And puree.

Dawn

Granny Smith Apples

The days may be warm here, but the mornings are always cool and inviting. Today I woke up before six a.m., and decided to do a little walk around the property and check on things before the sun came up. I checked vines, fruit, and growth.  It's amazing how much plants can change just within a few years; the fig tree we planted in 2013 that was just up to my knees is now as tall as I am, and the cherry trees which were sticks now have sizable trunks and stand well over 7 feet tall.

Baby pumpkin.

On the more short-term end of things, the pumpkins are growing in anticipation of fall, and summer squash is in its usual state of over-abundance.

Ollalieberry vine.

For some folks, Sunday is a church day, and I have total respect for that, but I have always found God more present in the land than in the cathedral.  And so this morning left me especially grateful for the fruit, for the clouds, and for the good land we live on.

Seckel pears.

Happy Sunday, everyone.

Peace if you want it.

There are a lot of advantages about living the homesteading lifestyle.  I love the way the hours shift with the seasons in particular. In winter we have things set up so that I rarely have to venture outside to the business end of the property before 7 a.m. because it's too cold and dark to effectively get much done, and in summer I try and be DONE with my farm chores by the same time, meaning I will rise and start work at about 5 a.m. once the days become long, which is about now.

In this area (and it's what makes this region great for wine grape growing) there is a huge diurnal shift in temperatures -- the morning that starts off at a brisk 50 degrees can easily morph into a day where it's in the high 90s by noon. Some climes stay warm all the time in summer -- there are balmy midnights and temperate dawns, but we are not one of those places.  If you are going somewhere after dark, you will need a sweater or jacket -- maybe two. And so it just makes sense (if you have any sweat-producing tasks to complete) to rise early and get started before the sun even makes an appearance on the horizon because it's just so much more comfortable to work in cooler weather (this is the hot flash homestead, after all).

Today my 5 a.m. task was finally getting around to tilling a spot where our pumpkins are (hopefully) going to be growing. I threw some bagged soil on top of the tilled spots, enough to make three mounds, where I then placed my seedlings.  Since I'm starting this whole project about a month behind when it should have been done, I also used some white shade cloth to keep the seedlings cool for the first week or so, until they're a little more acclimated to their new spot. 

Undercover pumpkin patch.

And then, around 8 a.m. with the fog lifting and the sun making his first appearance of the day, the world was warming and my chores were done.  It was a good feeling.  And I sat down there in the garden on my little plastic chair and just enjoyed the peace surrounding me. There was no wind, and no sounds other than the occasional chirp from a hummingbird and the sounds of bees at work among the plants. 

"Peace" is a noun, I have realized, just like the words "shovel," "eggplant," and "house" are. And just like those things, peace is something you can pick up and enjoy/use, or just leave it be. You have to consciously decide to attend to peace, to observe peace  and to use peace, just like any other object in your life. Otherwise it will sit quietly on the sidelines like an unused tool, never crying out for lack of use or really even letting you know its there. It IS there, of course, all the time.  But it doesn't demand its place in life the way other things in life do. Use it and it's a tool to make your life better. Don't use it and it sits out in the garden, always there, just unnoticed, like an old spade or garden hoe left in a corner. The bees buzz, the hummingbirds chirp and whiz around the bushes, but no one is there to notice. Peace exists even when you are not there to notice. And so the trick is to do so.

Peace is possibly the most valuable crop, garden tool, and place to shelter out of all the things we think about on a day-to-day basis. This morning, after finishing my chores I consciously picked up peace and held it in my gaze for awhile.  And I'm glad I did.

Pumpkin Photo Sunday

These little darlings are ripening nicely in one of my raised beds. I was quite skeptical about being able to raise decent pumpkins in a raised bed, but it appears to be working out nicely.  As long as you keep the water coming regularly and give them regular fertilizing, they will do fine.  

This of course flies in the face of traditional pumpkin growing, which states that they need to be hilled.  Not so.  In the heat of summer, it is very nice to be able to water these gourds while I'm close to the house and even able to stand in the shade, something I'm not yet able to do down in the pasture.

If you notice, in these pics you will sometimes see some old, broken kitchen tiles sitting under each pumpkin.  This is to keep them looking good, even on the side that is facing the ground. (I may use some for decoration before cooking them for soups and pies). The tile is smooth and will not make a groove in the pumpkin's skin or allow it to sit on the moist ground and become discolored or rotted.

Overflowing into the shade.

Almost there!

Coming along.

Little Green.

January Tasks

With the new year often comes a renewed sense of organization, routine, and normalcy, which I'm always thankful for after Holiday Craziness. I've spent the last couple of days cleaning out closets, getting rid of things we don't need, thereby making more room to consolidate and put in order what we do have.

January is also the perfect time to get back to canning, taking advantage of fall and winter's bounty to replenish your stored goods.

This month, for instance, is when I usually put up orange marmalade and lemon curd.  Both are useful in a wide variety of dishes and desserts, and both have a place in my pantry.  Well, the marmalade goes to the pantry, the lemon curd goes to the freezer because it keeps better there.

There used to be four.  I have no willpower.

This morning, I used the last of 2012's lemon curd to make some lemon pies.  Don't they look good?  

While we're on the subject of citrus, this is also a great month to start some Limoncello, using fresh lemons.  The recipe I like to use is here: Tramie's Kitchen -- Limoncello

I am currently also dealing with the last of fall's pumpkins.  We've had soup and pumpkin spice bread since December and are all about bloody well sick of it about now, so I will puree our remaining pumpkins, plop the puree into a Mason Jar and then forget about it in the bottom of my freezer use it later. 

 

Someday it will look good to me again.

While I don't anticipate any more calls for pumpkin pie, we may get a wild-hair urge to have some pumpkin bread come October or so, before next year's gourds are ready, so this is a perfect solution.

Goodbye summer!

Fall is on its way!  And I have pumpkins to prove it.

Dill's Atlantic Giant Pumpkin

I currently have several seedlings for this massive giant pumpkin sprouting in my greenhouse.  They will go into the garden in a couple of weeks, and from there.....who knows.

It actually always seems kind of strange to be planting winter squash when spring is in full tilt, but that's just how nature works. Things like pumpkins and butternut squash take a long time to form, so they need to go into the ground several months before they're actually needed. 

If I get two or three giant pumpkins, I will be thrilled....for no particular reason (Heck, if I get ONE I will be thrilled).  In addition to these massive Dill's pumpkins, I've also planted plenty of smaller, more useful Sugar Pie pumpkins as well, which I will can and make pies with next fall, but these gargantuan pumpkins serve no other purpose, except for fun.  I figure if they grow, I have several months to play Martha Stewart and figure out what creative thing I want to do with them.  Sigh.  My very own Pumpkinzillas.

It could be fun. And sometimes, farms, homesteads, and gardens should be fun.  We'll see if I can get a pumpkinzilla or two.