life and times down on the Farm
Well, Kitchen life is far less exciting these days due to our lessening fresh Farm produce. I feel like lately I haven't the energy or patience to step outside my cooking box with our routine fall bounty. From the Farm gardens we are getting: kale (dino and curly), chard (Swiss), cabbage, parsnips, turnips, leeks and this week we still had some broccoli. We are now breaking into freezer stores to utilize some things which the garden processed and froze this summer, and are also using store bought produce more and more (insert HUGE sad face here). Nothing tastes as good as fresh AND recently (like that morning!!) picked produce.
Much to our delight we had a few calves born in the last couple of weeks, taking us to a grand total of 5 heifer (girl) calves, which is exactly what we wanted. Hooray! After Jasmine (you may remember her from here) calved we lost her to milk fever. (Will have to post pictures of the adorable calves soon). We also had two litters of piglets born recently. Pigs are amazing in that (like some things in life), they are so adorable when little, but then grow into such huge, ugly creatures. In the feather world, somehow a fox dug underneath the (old) fence and got into one side of the chicken house, attacking/eating/beheading 10 chickens. Poor RugbyGirl went to work to discover missing/partially eaten/beheaded chickens. Since this attack the industrious farmers have fixed and strengthened the area around the chicken coops.
The non-Farm animals are packing up and heading out for winter; visible are the signs of retreat: the vacated nests in bare trees and noticeably less squirrels around. I have still seen lots of blue jays lately, but apparently the mean bastards don't mind NE winters. In the morning when I am walking to work I marvel at the morning sky, the slightly quieter air and the cooler temperatures. Fall is unravelling, though a ball of yarn; losing it's familiar shape in each crisping leaf and tree becoming barren. Our apple trees around the house look nothing short of something from a Tolkien story; gnarled hands reaching from the earth, old knotty fingers caught in spasmodic reaches. They are bare of apples, but even in their relative seasonal uselessness I love them more than when they are coated in leaves and heavy with apples. There is something in the trees' stark, bare state. Something glorious in their uniqueness and gnarled appearance. I must post pictures soon and let you see for yourselves...