Tag: homelife

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Home Life

50 Years Later

Fillmore at Locust
Fillmore at Locust

LAKE MACBRIDE— The school crossing guard at Fillmore and Locust told me President Kennedy had been shot on my way back to school. I don’t recall walking the last block, but  upon arriving at the sixth grade classroom, our teacher pulled down the window shades while we waited for news.

In the fifty years since, this memory persisted, with immediacy, and its uncertainty. I’m still don’t understand what it meant or what it means.

The crossing occurred three blocks from where I was born, a block and a half from where my mother had just served lunch, and a couple of hundred feet from the Catholic church where my parents wed, my grandmother had worked, and where I was baptized, confirmed and attended my father’s funeral. A couple of hundred feet ahead was the duplex where as a toddler I visited my maternal grandmother. That neighborhood was at the core of who I was.

I don’t recall much from the rest of sixth grade, after which we attended school in the new building, and experienced the first of many renderings. I was placed in a classroom with the group of kids who were bound for college, and separated from most of my neighborhood friends. In high school we were rent further as the boys were separated from the girls. After high school, we belonged to the world, and college, and I left not knowing I was also leaving Davenport for good. None of it had anything to do with the Kennedy assassination, and I’ve known that all along.

50 years later I attended an event in the county seat where a local author, the owner of an independent bookstore, one of my graduate school professors and someone else spoke about the day Kennedy died. Familiar icons were mentioned, and the bookstore had a table full of JFK books for sale outside the room. That hour provoked this post, and that seems okay. Because without the noon event, I would not likely have thought of President Kennedy at all today, as I had long ago moved on, almost forgetting how simple life was then.

Categories
Home Life

Random Notes on a Saturday Morning

Last Fresh Garden Tomatoes
Last Fresh Garden Tomatoes

LAKE MACBRIDE— Politicians glom on to veterans like there is no tomorrow. Veterans vote, we live in society, and most of us served and left the military behind without comment or regret. Politicians should work to reduce the number of veterans we are creating as a society, rather than glomming onto our service for political reasons. That could be their service, and the nation would be grateful.

The newspaper work is finished for today. The focus will be on home work. The atmosphere is calm, so the brush pile can be burned, preparing a space for planting garlic tomorrow or next week. There are lots of apples for processing into applesauce, apple crisp and maybe some dehydrated apples. That is, once the dried herbs in the dehydrator are removed and cleaned. The last of the fresh tomatoes will be turned into a pot of chili for supper. There are more turnip greens for soup stock, and a drawer full of root vegetables in the refrigerator— plus whatever else is harvested today. There is a whole afternoon of kitchen work.

Having gone to town this morning I hope to remain on the property, or within walking distance. Maybe once the brush is burned, I’ll take a walk on the lake trail, but no further. It’s what’s called living, and we don’t do enough of it. And it’s time to get on with it.

Categories
Writing

Cleaning Onions

Trimming Onions
Cleaning Onions

LAKE MACBRIDE— Napping when the email arrived, an hour later I woke, read it and made it over to the farm at a quarter to noon to clean onions. It was solitary work removing the tops and roots, and sorting them into crates. It took five hours. While I worked, one person was at a meeting in town, two sorted and cleaned potatoes, and another sorted spaghetti squash. Silent, but communal work in support of our local food system. Around 1 p.m. everyone else had finished and was gone, leaving me with my thoughts and work.

One of the ironies of this year has been that while working a lot of hours in local food production, my time in the kitchen has been limited. I prepared a number of seasonal dishes, but there was little experimentation or cooking for pleasure. Most of the kitchen time was spent preserving food, rather than preparing meals, converting that part of our home to a temporary mini-factory.

Rendering fresh produce into a shelf-stable product is a vital part of summer abundance. This year there are some new items: dill pickles, sweet pepper sauce, and grape and raspberry jam. As fresh cooking turns to pantry cooking, the household is ready.

In the declining light of the barn, something enveloped me. It was as if the world had been shut out as my pile of onions leaves mounted. I returned briefly to youth, and the holiday time. When there were trips to the drug store to see what seasonal offerings were made. There were trips to used book stores, to secure a supply of winter reading material, even though there was plenty to read already in the house. An trip to the liquor store to buy some wine made of German Riesling grapes, or distilled French spirits: Armagnac, cognac and Calvados. The luxuries of plain living all.

When the onion cleaning was done, the sun was setting and I headed home along the gravel back roads littered with fall foliage and deer crossings. For dinner I cooked veggie burgers and served them on buns bought from the day old rack at $1.40 for eight. Condiments were ketchup and a slice of onion, sides of coleslaw and baked beans. Comfort food for a hearty meal.

What did my onion day dreams mean? It’s hard to say, but the actuality of that feeling took me back to a time of less worry, and living in each moment. A time when our potential seemed unlimited as we left home to see what the world had to offer. In some ways, that journey was never completed. Who knew it would end up in a quiet barn cleaning onions?

Categories
Home Life

Daily Chronicle — Autumn Catch-up

Paychecks in a Ball Jar
Paychecks in a Ball Jar

LAKE MACBRIDE— Since July, my agenda has been packed with paid and   unpaid work. As autumn yields to winter, I found myself working twelve days straight. Feeling similar to how I felt after returning to garrison after long periods of military field work, I’m making time to take care of basic necessities, and have created this chronicle of how things went.

3 a.m.— Rise, make coffee, read messages and articles, write emails, daily planning.

5 a.m.— Breakfast of pancakes with apple butter on top.

5:30 a.m.— Read the rest of The American Way of Eating by Tracie McMillan.

7:05 a.m.—Rearrange cupboard above the refrigerator (clean off thick layer of dust on top). Organize shelf stable goods in the pantry.

9:16 a.m.—Create work space in garage and downstairs.

9:45 a.m.— Pick up paychecks and empty canning jars, chat with two of my favorite farmers, take recycling to Iowa City, get groceries at North Dodge HyVee.

11:47 a.m.— Lunch, start dish washer.

12:32 p.m.— Scan paychecks into the bank account.

12:57 p.m.— Take a nap.

1: 27 p.m.— Select the ripe tomatoes from the counter to make pasta sauce, and get started.

2:09 p.m.— Sort cracked garlic for planting/eating.

2:37 p.m.— Finish prep work and start pasta sauce to simmer.

3:03 p.m.— Pay bills. Read mailers from Wellmark and Delta Dental on changes to plans for compliance with the Affordable Care Act.

3:34 p.m.— Take nap #2.

4:25 p.m.— Clean up to do prep work for dinner, and bask in the glory of a day on my own.

4:26 p.m.— Realize the the existential struggle for existence in the post-Reagan society restarts tomorrow.

4:27 p.m.— Was thankful for today.

Categories
Work Life

Day Off, Maybe

Cabbage
Cabbage

LAKE MACBRIDE— Some part of the last 11 days has been paid work at one of four jobs. If it rains today, there will be a day off. No rain, and there are three possibilities for paid work. I’m hoping it rains, but a day off means working at home on a couple of the too many projects at hand. In this post-Reagan retirement there is never a real day off, but it’s fun to pretend. A lot can happen as the world wakes up this morning.

For now, it’s time to head to the kitchen, make breakfast and a list of priorities for today. That is, unless the phone call comes that there is work.

UPDATE: The phone call and email came, and I captured two work assignments.

Categories
Home Life Kitchen Garden

Making Soup and Applesauce

Potato Digger
Potato Digger

LAKE MACBRIDE— At the end of the season, before the last gleanings from the garden have turned to compost, home cooks prep and cook and preserve to make use of summer’s bounty.

Foraging in the refrigerator as if it were foreign turf, forgetful of how the mix of cut onions, diverse greens and leftovers arrived, the best is culled for a hearty fall soup. Kale and onions, Brussels sprouts and broccoli stalks, celery and carrot, a turnip, some potatoes, frozen sweet corn, and everything else suitable goes into a large, stainless steel stock pot.

Tomatoes are selected from the counter, their numbers diminishing without replenishment from the garden patch. Cutting away the soft and dark spots, they were cored and pulsed on low speed in the blender, skins and all. The red puree was poured all at once into the simmering ingredients. A handful of leftover farfalle, bay leaves, some dried red and black beans, and chervil were added. The pot simmered more than an hour on low heat. It was soup for dinner.

At 3:15 a.m. I brought the graniteware water bath canner from downstairs to the kitchen. Using the wire rack, four quarts and a pint of applesauce, plus the pepper puree made this weekend, were lowered into the pot which was then filled with warm tap water. Moving the heavy pot to the stove, I turned the heat on high to process the jars of summer goodness. Now breakfast.

While working in the local food system, one never knows when or where the next paying job will come along. I finished the season at the orchard yesterday, at one CSA the work is clearing the field, which won’t take too long, then there is the planting in the high tunnel and fall share help, which will end soon as well. There is the prospect of cutting firewood at another farm, but weather seems likely to intervene before long. It begs the question, what’s next?

While invited to return to the warehouse after the season, it doesn’t pay enough given the investment in health and well being required. It is a fallback position to pay some of our bills should no other opportunities present themselves. There are a lot of low wage jobs around town, but they present the same problem of occupying space without providing enough income. I’m confident something will materialize.

While there is fresh food, I’ll continue to eat well and stock the pantry for winter. Mostly, we eat to live, and there is still time to make deposits in the food pantry. Hopefully there will be enough reserves to see us through until spring.

Categories
Home Life Kitchen Garden

Stuffed Peppers

RURAL SOLON— While finishing a shift of deconstructing tomato cages, I walked along the row of frosted bell pepper plants toward the gate. It snowed yesterday and hard froze last night. I picked six pepper survivors for the flat side upon which to sit on the baking sheet. There was a lot of food that survived the snow and frost, but we enjoy stuffed peppers a time or two during each year, and that was my choice.

When it was time to begin preparing the meal, I cored, parboiled and stuffed the peppers with a mixture of rice, eggs, a blend of Italian cheeses, cooked onion and garlic, and dried rosemary and sage. They were topped with leftover pasta sauce and went into a 350 degree oven for 22 minutes. We had a working family supper, served with sweet corn and fresh tomato slices.

On a cold day food fresh from the oven, made with local ingredients raised by people we know is as good as it gets. It is a simple pleasure, one that bears repeating if that is possible.

Categories
Environment Home Life

Storm Cleanup is Finished

Ashes from the Brush Pile
Ashes from the Brush Pile

LAKE MACBRIDE— Embers of the brush pile marked the final cleanup after the Sept. 19 storm. Uneven spots remain where the tree fell, but the lilac bushes retained a nice shape and appearance after trimming the damaged branches. Next order of business is to mow the lawn, which is still partly brown after the drought, and collect the grass clippings to use as mulch where the burn pile is now. It’s been two months since the lawn was mowed.

The season’s canning is mostly done, and I posted this to Facebook yesterday,

All the canning jars in the house have something in them, more than 30 dozen. Tomatoes, applesauce, hot peppers, soup stock, sauerkraut, dill pickles and hot pepper sauce. There is apple butter, pear butter, peach, raspberry and black raspberry preserves, and grape jelly. The freezer’s full too. Plenty of potatoes and onions. We will have the beginnings of plenty of winter meals. All was grown locally and organically. Think I’m done for this canning season.

Herbs are drying in trays in the dining room, and a lot of produce remains in the garden. The counters and bins in the house are full of tomatoes, winter squash, apples, onions and potatoes. By Monday we should have a hard frost which will end most of the growing season. The historical first hard frost is around Oct. 7, so the growing season extended by about two weeks this year. It’s not clear what weather history means any more, except to point out how different things are getting.

A farmer was talking about the weather last night, commenting that it has recently been extreme, with nothing in between. He was referring to the early snowstorm that killed an estimated 100,000 cattle in South Dakota earlier this week. What we want is a steady, soaking rain for about 48 hours to bring up the moisture level in the ground. It hasn’t happened, and we are left with heavy downpours, flooding and fires in the great plains and upper Midwest.

For some farmers, the soybeans are in. While they had the potential for a big crop, the average yield was about 40 bushels per acre. The pods formed but didn’t fill for want of rain. The corn crop is still coming in, so if it rains, nature could wait until the rest is in. The variation in yield is between 40 and 200 bushels per acre. There aren’t many places producing the high end of the range and average is coming in around 140. There is some hesitancy to say until it is all in, but yield will be better than last year during the record drought.

Everywhere in the farming community, people are concerned about the extreme weather. Weather is always a concern for farmers, but this is different. People seem worried like they haven’t been before. There has been no mention of climate change in these conversations, and I don’t bring it up. No need to assert my views when the connection between extreme weather and climate change will become obvious with the persistence of trouble, and the expansion of knowledge.

While our cleanup is finished, the extreme weather seems like it is only just beginning. We use the same language, developed over generations, to discuss farming. But there is a sense, a resonance of worry, unlike what has been present before. It will nag at people and hopefully result in action to mitigate the causes of climate change before it is too late.

Categories
Environment Home Life

Storm Cleanup Continues

Work Station
Work Station

LAKE MACBRIDE— After completion of the Sept. 19 storm cleanup, the monetary cost will be $230.50, including hiring an arborist to tend to two trees and a construction company to repair the fascia on the southwest corner of the house. It was not much, and a lot less expense than others in the neighborhood experienced.

I avoided the cost of disposing of the fallen branches by cutting them into two types: firewood to be sold, and brush to be burned. The cost is in time, with one or two more four hour sessions of cutting ahead, and at least two more burns when the wind dies down. We’ll evaluate the condition of the damaged trees and lilac bushes and make adjustments after the burning is finished. With pruning, the lilacs can be saved.

Burn Pile Site
Burn Pile Site

Beside our checking account and labor, and a share of the bill for the damage in our subdivision, another toll from the storm lingers— the idea that this worst in 20 years weather event, coupled with recent severe drought and terrible flooding, is just the beginning of the effects of climate change on our lives. Whatever severe weather we might have had was intensified by the effects of global warming. That a monetary value can be assigned is a sign of things to come.

Farm and newspaper work continues over the weekend, so the cleanup will wait until next week. Cleanup displacing other things to be done to advance our socioeconomic status in Big Grove. The storm cleanup reinforces the idea that climate change is real and happening now. We need to do something to protect what we hold dear, we can’t be effective alone, and the time to act is now.

Categories
Home Life

Autumn Days

Turnip Green Soup Stock and Tomato Juice
Turnip Greens Soup Stock and Tomato Juice

LAKE MACBRIDE— As cleanup from the Sept. 19 storm continues, the weather has been almost perfect for outdoors work. The plants in the yard have come alive, and the garden generated a burst of food (collards, Swiss chard, turnip greens, arugula, herbs, tomatoes and peppers) as the first frost approaches. Days like these are as good as it gets.

Roof Damage
Roof Damage

Slowly… systematically, evidence of the storm diminishes. Yesterday I cut up the locust tree and spread the branches in the back yard for easier final cutting. Today a construction worker comes to repair the corner of the house. All that’s left is to finish with the locust tree and replace one of the downspouts damaged during the storm. Then to glean the garden, mow the lawn, and collect the clippings for mulching the garden over winter.

What then?

Much as we relish our moments of sunshine in brilliant autumn days, there is work to do before the final curtain falls and we join the choir invisible.

Writing About Apples
Writing About Apples

My writing will continue. It has become subsistence, a part of me, like blood production in the marrow, a way to breathe life sustaining oxygen in an unsettling and turbulent world. It is not expected to contribute much financially.

Farm work and gardening, participation in our local food system will continue at a subsistence level. There is inadequate income to be generated in working for someone else, and farm work will always be lowly paid.

There is family life, but little role for that in the blogosphere. We depend on our families, and little more need be said here.

Mostly, life will be living as best we can during moments of brilliance and trouble. Like these days in early October, when worry seems far away, and life so abundant.