Sunday Night Dinner on the Deck

Lamb Chops, covered in chopped garlic and cracked pepper, cooked quickly in olive oil.

Baby eggplant, picked right out of the garden, cut in half and roasted with olive oil.

Green beans, picked right from the garden, sauteed with our onions until almost crispy.

Peppers, picked right from our garden, caramelized in balsamic vinegar.

Heirloom tomato pie, brought by friend who also brought delicious cookies for dessert.

Saturday Evening

We had a great market day. Sell out at both markets. Lots of people mentioned the article that Beth wrote. It was rather overwhelming, all the kind words and recognition. Made me sad to think that all of the kindness wouldn't be necessary if Philip were still here. Last night the kids watched Cheaper by the Dozen with our guests. Nora came up to bed crying because the dad dies in that story. We cuddled up and I gave her a kiss and told her I miss him too and prayed for her to be comforted and she fell right to sleep.

So anyway, we were thankful for all the support from people who heard our story. I was thinking that maybe one good thing out of many things that have come out of our tragedy is that many people are seeing that their little act of buying a loaf of local bread baked by a local gal can truly make a difference. It makes a difference for us. It means I can pay our bills, stay on the farm, sit on the front porch in the evening and watch two little girls play wiffle ball and drink heavy cream in my coffee.

Speaking of wiffle ball, it was fun watching Rose and Nora play by themselves after playing with the whole Schmitter crew. Rose pitched, Nora hit. When she hit, she ran to base, and if she made it safe, left her ghost player on the base and ran back to home plate to be up to bat again. When she hit the ball again, her ghost player made it to third and she would run to second, if she didn't get out. I think at least one of her ghost players made it to home. Rose's team got up to bat right as it got dark, and a skirmish on the field sent everyone into bedtime. I hope we have enough beds for all those extra players.

We miss Lynn Moore and the Schmitters already. What a gift to have dear friends come for a visit. I wish I had more to give them. They gave me so much. Brought food, tents, made dinners, took kids out on fun excursions, washed dishes, washed laundry, and blessed us richly. I am thrilled that our life and business makes it possible for us to have others come and experience a little taste of the bounty of farm living. It is humbling to think that hearing roosters crow and making butter can impact a life.

I wasn't going to make supper for myself this evening. The kids ate leftover ziti. But then I saw that bag of veggies Patrick received in a barter deal with Randy Deel at Botetourt Family Farmer's Market.

One bag had october beans. I didn't grow up with october beans. Must be a regional thing. I don't really know what to do with those beans. But as cool as it was outside and as hot as it was in the house, I decided to take the bag out to the rocking chair on the front porch and began to shell. Little by little the little pile grew into a mound in my bowl. A mound of art. Pink and white beans, like a still life. The colors were lovely. But the most lovely thing was that Rose found me and before you know it, she got addicted to shelling out those beans with me in the cool evening. One of my favorite things, shelling beans or peas on the front porch in the cool of the early evening. Took them in and braised them with olive oil, lots of garlic, chopped rosemary and kosher salt. While they cooked:

Okra. Lots of tender tiny okra.

One of my very very favorite vegetables.

Rose and I decided that we had to have some, sliced and sauteed with garlic in some olive oil, just until tender, sprinkled with kosher salt. It cooked before the beans finished, so we split it between the two of us and gobbled it up before you know what happened. We talked about how we like little okra boiled, slimy and yummy with butter and salt, but sauteed in olive oil with salt is just about the most perfect food ever. A couple of kids passed through the kitchen and watched Rose and I scarf down our treat, and I suggested if they cut up the rest of the bag of okra I would cook it up for them, but they just drooled and passed on by.

I think we forgot to give thanks, standing up in the kitchen, scarfing down our okra and october beans, but I do give thanks now for Randy growing okra! Ours is just getting ripe, but we don't have enough that survived for our okra loving family. A glass of red wine on the porch with my beans (noone else wanted them) and a phone call with my baby sister was a nice treat. As I tasted the new flaver of the beans, I wondered if I stewed them with some lamb shanks, more garlic, extra rosemary and some vermouth, they might be even better. Will have to look up some recipes. I have no idea how folks around here cook october beans. Must ask neighbors!

Well, another week passed on. We are about six months past the time of Philip's death. Hard to believe. Winter ended, spring came, summer is drawing to an end.

The girls just came in and made me read this post out loud to them, to make sure I didn't write anything bad about them. Rose suggested I keep writing until I am old and then we will have a story of our life. I don't think I want to think that far ahead when I am this tired. For now, time to shut it down and say goodnights and take a look at the rising moon. Not full yet, but getting there.

The Mill

Okay, okay, I will write about other things tomorrow, but please let me say that I am so happy to have the mill running the way it used to, back in the good ole days! What a relief.

I did run the a/c all night to suck humidity out of the air. I think that helped. It certainly felt great. Baked over 110 loaves of bread and over 50 pizza crusts. Made several spelt brownie mixes and 4-grain pancake mixes. Worked too many hours, but was happy to have Lynn Moore's company. She washed dishes and washed clothes and washed bathrooms for me. What a friend. Mark and Karen took all the kids to Roaring Run and Craig's Creek for a hike, picnic and swim.

Thought I should mention that even though I am irritated with our free-range chickens, it is fun to watch them at milking time. They come around for a free snack when Coco is sloppy with her grain. The chicks are full feathered out miniature versions of the mamas and papas. The different colored feathers are lovely. One of the chickens has black feathers with an irridescent blue and turquoise sheen. Reminds me of some of the amazing artwork I have seen by Tiffany at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Today's farm snippets: Sunflowers. They are riotous these days. I think they are the most happy flower. Moon is waxing and rising over the ridge as I type this evening. Will be full before you know it. Sun is rising later and going to bed earlier. Why can't I be like the sun? Bull frog is having a conversation with his wife. Nice and calm. Enjoying their full pond.

The Mill

Even with all the help from all my friends replacing motors, taking the machine apart and putting it back together, the last couple of weeks I saw no significant improvement in the working of the stone burr mill.

Every minute of milling required constant care to adjust and try to find the right spot to mill according to my standards, but not burn up the motor.

After 3 minutes of milling this early morning, the mill seized up and insisted it would not grind one more ounce of wheat. Ever. Until it were seen to by a professional.

I waited until 8am and then called the manufacturer, a company that originated and still operates out of Wilkesboro, NC. Meadow Mills. A kind sounding gentleman assured me that they could work on the mill today, especially when I told him how urgent it was that I have it back to working by tomorrow morning, 4am, give or take.

I quickly finished the milking, orchestrated a milk drop off and then Lynn, Thomas and Nora headed to NC. That is, after Thomas, Mark and I nearly gave ourselves hernias loading the monstrosity into the back of the Vibe. The rain poured.

We drove to the back of the nondescript building. I was directed to back up into an area filled with lots of machinery and activity. No frantic activity. Just calm, steady production.

Two kind men carried the mill to a table, took a look and instantly told me what was wrong. A couple of parts had gone bad and were affecting the operation of the whole machine. I asked them if they could tell me what I had been doing wrong so I would not make the same mistake over again. They assured me that these things happen over the course of a hard years work, and that this kind of care is part of maintenance. They even assured me that I could probably learn how to take care of opening up the machine to take care of cleaning the stones and what not.

I never in my life thought a normal human could open up a big old machine, move parts around and put it back together. I have girl friends and guy friends who can do that kind of thing, but not me. That kind of work is kind of like sewing to me. Best left to the professionals.

But after watching them carefully show me the steps, I thought that maybe someday I could open up a machine and put it back together. Not tomorrow, but maybe someday.

They explained to me that humidity causes the flour to absorb lots of moisture which will cause build up on the stones. They pressure washed them and sanitized them.

They showed me a shaft that had scarring that prevented the belt from easily turning.

They discovered that the eccentric was broken.

Did you know that there was such a mechanical part as an eccentric? We enjoyed discussing the definition of an eccentric, irregular, irratic, off the norm. This part makes the arm of the machine shake at an irregular rate to shake down the grain from the hopper to the stones. We decided that we all like being eccentric. I wondered if there were some sermon illustration in that definition.

The gentlemen found that the motor was indeed burned out, due to the regular overworking of the machine. Within minutes they had it replaced with a new one, with a thermal overload. They gave me instructions on how to make sure it kept from getting overheated. They suggested I run an a/c to drop the humidity during the summer months. They redressed the stone, making a nice sharp surface instead of the smooth one.

I thought about another sermon illustration, about going to the maker of the mill to fix not only the symptom (a burned out motor) but the underlying causes (the broken parts deep within the machine.)

We wrote a check for much less than I anticipated, loaded the machine, said our thanks and headed for home. A VERY long day. Almost 7 hours of driving in traffic and rain. A lost day of business at the Catawba market. But with a tool that will now work like it is supposed to, thanks to this wonderful small company that makes a very high quality tool. Their service was terrific. I wish I had gone months ago, but today was the day.

Hopefully tomorrow will be a great day to prove how much better the mill is operating.

We drove into the driveway after 7pm, the kids were playing wiffle ball on the front lawn. Chickens and guineas roamed everywhere on the green grass. The sun came out and the clouds looked like the sort that come after a storm, not before. Patrick milked for me and I prepare for a new day. Thankful we only have 24 hours per day. With several of those hours dedicated to sleep.

Will keep you posted on the mill. Tomorrow is another day.

Apples, Glorious Apples

I enjoyed my extra early morning this morning. At least the part after I got up and ran the barn cat off the deck after listening to her yowl for 2 hours. Why didn't I just get up at 4:30 and run her off then?

So the coffee was extra good and so were the Psalms.

So were the piles of pancakes we finally all got around to eating at 10am this morning.

After taking care of computer work for a couple of hours I reached my limits of niceness. A sassy mouth from a very clever boy (related to me, in fact, very similar to his mother in many ways) turned my tiredness into grouchiness. Being the executive director of the farm, I made the executive decision to leave him and other whiners (I mean, tired children of mine who slept in the tents in the rain, with Coco trying to wake them up and cats screaming) to hang out with our guests (who did absolutely NO whining whatsoever) and clean out the barn.

Thomas, Nora and I loaded up my favorite toy, I mean Larry's pressure washer into the back of the truck, along with some old wooden apple boxes he had given us, and headed down to Bent Mountain. Thunder rumbled and the rain fell, but we didn't care.

I was so irritable, whiny and grumpy myself I figured that it was best for everyone for me to take an afternoon and leave the farm.

We got to the Florin house, enjoyed hot tea and waited a few minutes for the rain to pause then drove over to an old apple orchard. On top of one of the most beautiful spots I have ever seen in Virginia. Panoramic view of surrounding valleys, mountains, fields and farms. With a lovely orchard sprinkled on top like powdered sugar.

We hopped out and began to pick, Lynne, Larry, Thomas, Nora and I. The boxes began to fill with blushing green and yellow apples. Of course we had to try one from each tree. To make certain they were ripe.

Some were crispy and tart. Juicy. Perfect for apple pie.

Some were rosy and huge. Glossy and sweet. Spicy.

Pure decadence.

We decided we better bring the rest of the work crew next time. Especially the tree climbers. And maybe a couple of ladders. And some of those poles with little baskets on the end. And sacks for lugging.

And we dreamed of applesauce and apple pie filling and oatmeal with apples and apple cider and hard cider. And my mood completely sweetened. At least for an hour or two. And we were able to cart home 7 bushels of amazing fruit. And we got to see some fat deer. And then dreamed of venison.

Then we got home to a huge meal prepared by Karen and Lynn. Chili with meat and beans and a cast iron skillet of cornbread. Glasses of milk. Peach crisp for dessert. I wasn't going to eat dessert, but didn't want to hurt anyone's feelings. It was delicious. Kids played wiffle ball on the front lawn for hours. Mark got everyone engaged. Even Thomas.

Time to call it a day. Cow is milked. Crickets are chirping. Frogs are peeping and the chickens are settling in for the night. Tomorrow is another day.

PS We are still thankful for the rain, even though it has been rather steady the last few days.

The Rain is Raining

The rain is raining all around,
it falls on fields and streams.
It rains on the umbrellas here
and on the ships at sea.
RL Stevenson

I can't believe it can be raining so long and so hard and it still be frighteningly hot in our house.

Dear friend guests from NJ have arrived. Karen and Mark and their three kids and Lynn. Mark and the kids are terribly bold. They have set up their tents between the tractor shed and milking parlor. They have rigged tarps. They have a plan. Lynn, Karen and I will happily sleep in our hot, but dry bedrooms.

Right after the tents were set up, we picked a bushel or more of the remaining corn, shucked it on the front porch and I cooked it. We ladies cut most of it off the cob for freezing. The rest of the corn we consumed right on the cob, along with green beans and venison/beef burgers. And plenty of fresh cold milk.

Kids had fun gathering eggs, moving chickens around and watching Patrick milk the cow while we ladies finished the corn project and washed up the kitchen.

It is a joy having our friends come for a visit. They don't mind the rain, the not quite finished chores, the heat. They come because they love us and they love the farm and we love them back.

None of us are complaining about the rain because we need it so badly.

But it is rather humorous that the first really long spell of rain just so happens to fall on the first day of their camp out on the farm visit.

What brave people they are!

Happy Frogs

The day started off hot and stuffy.

We moved through it like slow molasses. Breakfast, laundry, milking, paperwork, school paperwork, emails, laundry, phone calls, more paperwork, room cleanup, more paperwork.

The children were quiet and kept to themselves, tending their laundry, their household chores, then retreating to their rooms to read in peace. I didn't have the heart to send them out to the garden in such oppressive weather.

Shortly after lunchtime, the skies darkened and we were hit by another blast of a thunderstorm.

I think afternoon thunderstorms are truly one of my favorite things. The rain poured and poured, the wind blew and all of a sudden the oppressive air lifted, even if temporarily. The girls and I ran to the bank and library and enjoyed driving in the drizzle. For a moment I forgot about summer and imagined the cool of fall, the changing leaves, and it felt like a mini vacation.

Unfortunately the heat is back, but the frogs don't mind. Now that their habitat is filled back up to the rim, they are offering up an evening serenade. Aaaahhh.

The waxing crescent moon is trying desperately to peek beyond the veil of heavy clouds over the southwest. I went outside long enough to say hello to her. It is still hot and sticky, but a necessary shower, (thanks to Coco, who whacked me in the face with her manure tail) makes everything more bearable.

PS Summer meals are terrific. Here's what we had for dinner:
Sauteed green beans and onions, from Randy Deel's garden (ours are almost ripe, but there aren't many of them)
Roasted eggplant from Paul with Thistle Dew farm,with olive oil and sea salt
Sliced yellow squash from the Lee's around the other side of the ridge. I sauteed it with garlic and chopped red peppers (from Raymond), then added some goat cheese made by Rachel and Jason, a little of Coco's cream, splash of vermouth and some fresh basil, cooked it down until nice and creamy
Grass-finished beef (courtesy Coco), cooked in olive oil with some sea salt and plenty of black pepper, medium rare
Sliced cucumbers from the Thomas family and cantaloupe from Thistle Dew.

We gave thanks for all the very many hands who helped provide such a scrumptious feast. Yeay for summertime. All that heat is good for making great veggies.

Showers of Blessing

Today was home church.

We thought about setting up outside underneath the willow tree, but menacing black clouds slowly marched toward us across the Jefferson National Forest. The heat and humidity were oppressive. It felt like a sauna outside.

Church around the dining room table worked just fine.

Before church we hovered around the table, perusing an article written about our farm by Beth Macy. Rachel and Jason bought a copy of the Roanoke Times on their way to the farm. We were a bit stunned. We knew the story would be in the paper, but I assumed it would fall in the Virginia section, not the FRONT PAGE! I was so embarrassed.

Maggie was disappointed that all the pictures of Fred and Tabby's wedding didn't make the spread. Patrick was glad that one of his quotes made the story. I cried when Rachel handed me the paper and I saw Widow in the headline and she and Jason gave me a big hug and missed Philip with me. Then we laughed because we all knew how proud he must be to see our pictures in the paper, if he ever has a chance to get a sneak peek from heaven.

Then it was time to put away the paper, grab that last bit of coffee and begin our service.

We sang our hymns. We read the readings. Then we began the joyful work of tackling the scriptures.

We usually start with the Psalm and then try to find the thru-line with the other readings. Some of them were a bit confusing, but there was nothing confusing about the passage in Hebrews. We camped out in Hebrews 12, first 14 verses. It was a powerful passage, encouraging followers of God to run the race with perserverance. We had a great time dissecting the verses, grabbing the dictionary every once in awhile to help flesh out words like perserverance and righteousness. Talked about the difference between discipline, getting in trouble and discipline, training to develop strong bodies, spirits and minds.

We shared the bread and the wine then rushed out to the garden to pick a tub full of corn to take down the road for Sunday dinner. Right as we began to shuck the corn, the black clouds ran down the mountain, stirred up a breeze, and exploded over the valley. It rained and rained, but never mind! Tim just moved the grill under a roof outside and dinner happened anyway.

Have I ever mentioned that spending Sunday afternoons with friends around dinner is one of my favorite things? Thank you, Mom and Dad for teaching us the value of Sunday dinner. Slow and relaxed, late enough to cover both dinner and supper. Plenty of time for kids to play and grownups to visit. Perfect way to make certain that a big tub of corn is put to good use. A cup of coffee, probably a bit later than is good for me seemed like the perfect way to end the day. Looking at Tim and Linda's dating and early marriage years back in the late 70's and 80's was a delightful bonus. We laughed and laughed at the hair styles and the shiny shirt. Tim's, not Linda's! We wondered why all those great photos are stuffed in an album instead of framed on the wall.

The clouds moved on, the sun returned and with it a steam bath.

But, thanks be to God from whom all blessings flow, the afternoon storm almost filled our pond to the brim! WOW!

The little showers along have been greening up the pastures, but haven't done a thing for the drying up pond. Today's gully washer definitely made a difference. Yeay for end of summer thunderstorms.

Peace

Today feels like August in the Adirondacks. Moist. Cool. Quiet and still.

The market was pleasant. Nice and steady. Plenty of customers happy to brave the drizzles and get out on a cooler than normal morning. Slow enough to get in some nice visits. Farmer's Market is social hour.

Instead of taking a nap, I elected to have lunch with a couple of girlfriends in town. We talked about happy stuff, sad stuff, bewildering stuff and crazy stuff. There is nothing like good girl-talk. I meant to come home to rest and clean house while the kids joined our church friends to see a live production of My Fair Lady. The camaraderie was very relaxing.

Home is quiet with the kids out. The willow trees are absolutely motionless. Moisture hangs in the air and the animals graze solemnly. Even the guineas and geese and roosters are quiet for the moment.

Never fear. Everyone will be back home in a few minutes to help with chores, straighten things up and get ready for bed. Noise will reign.

But for now, peace. Quiet, calm, cool.

Peace.

Friday Night Drama (Almost rated R)

I should be wrapping bread and pizza crusts right now but decided to take a short break.

Covered in flour. Hot and sweaty. But there are over 80 loaves of bread baked and almost 50 pizza crusts. Several pounds of freshly milled whole wheat, spelt and rye flours for customers who like to bake their own breads. I decided to skip making pancake and brownie mixes this week. Forget the chocolate brioche. I am hot, tired and uninspired.

We had to take a break at some point and chase Duncan, the bull away from heifers who had gone into heat. They are too young to be bred, at 10 months old, but they don't realize that. We moved Dulce and Carmelita into a small field for birth control. For one, we want them to be bred by a bull that is not their father. For two, we wish for them to reach 15-18 months old so they will be large enough to bear calves with minimal trouble.

They are lovely heifers and should make great mamas, but not quite yet!

In the urgent moment, Coco escaped from her field and went straight to the calves who promptly drank all the evenings milk. So, the good news is that I get a break tonight. The bad news is, well, I can't think of any bad news. We have plenty of milk for our customers from this morning and last night's milk.

This morning a friend from grief group came by. He and his posse helped the boys with some fence mending. We are hoping to repair the fence adjacent to the bottom hay field so we can graze the middle pastures. I was grateful for their work while I baked. The boys took care of a lot of mowing later on in the morning. This afternoon the kids read books and relaxed in the heat and the girls played in the garden hose. It brought back memories of my childhood and sisters and hot summers with a garden hose. We invented so many games to go along with hot summer, three girls and a garden hose.

The kids are having baked potatoes for supper. I grabbed a quick bite of Jimbo's smoked trout, Rachel and Jason's dill chevre and some pickled peppers and veggies. The trays of bread are waiting. But at least the kitchen, bakery and floor is clean. I even got the piles of dirty tubs and mixing bowls clean. Hopefully the cool breeze will pick up for the final push. Hopefully our customers will remember to get out in the morning to buy their daily bread. We are thankful for them. So very thankful to have a job here on the farm. Thankful to be able to see when the cows need some interference and to be able to pause and care for them right in the middle of the business.

By the way, the moon is waxing, but I haven't seen it. Forgot to check rising and setting times. The stars are beautiful. I tried to see the showers last night, but didn't. Watched the distant lightening over the National Forest instead. Very nice.

Alright, back to work, everybody. Want to get a shower and have a break before the morrow comes!