Finely, Fennel

I made something a little different for dinner last night. I have a rather good collection of cookbooks, which collect dust on the shelves. I don't usually make anything that can't be prepared in a few minutes and I don't generally work from recipes. I like to try new flavors sometimes and this was one of those times. Finely sliced fennel.

I use fennel seed in tomato based sauces, but I have never used fennel (anise) in cooking. When I was in the produce department of the grocery store the woman working there told me I should try it. So I did.

The result was this fine mess. Chicken with garlic, leek and fennel. Very quick prep time, then braised for a few hours. It was very good and if I can remember what I did, I will do it again!

Boneless chicken breast, cut into pieces
Leek, sliced
Fennel bulb, sliced
Fresh grated ginger
Several garlic cloves, coarsely chopped

Brown chicken in peanut oil. Add the rest of the ingredients and cook for a few minutes. Salt to taste. Add enough stock to almost cover. Tightly cover the pan and simmer on low heat for 3 - 4 hours.

I think I will dust off some of those cookbooks and see what I have forgotten about over the years of quick and easy. I remember some lovely food coming out of those pages. But for the everyday, busy life, this type of food is made fresh and is good to the taste. In minutes.

Bon Appetite!

Hum de Dum

The view out the window is wet. Wet, windy and grey. May is playing at becoming April and I think doing a job of it.

I haven't had anything to say; like the weather, I am dreary. Two cups of strong coffee and I still have no kick to me. What am I to do. I think I'll make pancakes for breakfast and not worry about it.

I don't know about you, but a stack of hot off the griddle pancakes is a treat to be enjoyed on a damp cold day in my kitchen. 

So that's all the news from here. I know there is something of interest happening somewhere in the world, but on my little patch of turf it is dreary and wet and grey and I am going to take solace in a stack of golden brown goodness. 

The End

All Things Green

We are having a beautiful soft, soaking rain. It has put me in a pleasant mood and I feel as grateful as the things green on the farm. Usually I show the bursts of color that I have worked diligently to have and enjoy. Today I went out in the life-giving rain and captured some moments in time of the green.

There is a thing green in the background, but I could not resist showing how disrespectful the birds have been to the cherub. I know he is there for their pleasure, but I mean, really.

I love my wild violets, even though they can be invasive. They can invade here all they wish to do.

Mark will be home today. I have had a week of quiet solitude; me and the dogs. And Margaret the Cat. I have enjoyed my time alone, as I will enjoy the company he brings when he returns. I wouldn't want to make a life of it, but some time alone is a welcome thing.

I am going to try very hard to leave the ignore button alone today. I really need to concentrate on returning order to my living space. I do not need to start a fire which will crackle invitingly, tempting me to sit with a book in my comfortable chair while it rains and the day slips away. No, I won't do this. I won't.

Flowers & Food

What I meant to photograph when I got distracted by my baby, Howard. The lighting wasn't good, but I was going for the reflection in the table. I had to use the flash and it washed the lilacs out. They are the color in the reflection.

As I was pushing the ignore button yesterday, I was wondering what I would have for dinner. I was dining alone and don't like to put forth much effort for one. I had some frozen shrimp, so I made this. Saute garlic, red onion in cold pressed extra virgin olive oil. Add dried basil (fresh would be good if you have it), tomato and mixed Mediterranean olives, pitted. Add shrimp, salt to taste and heat through. Serve over pasta, I used linguine. Top with chunks of goat cheese. I am the queen of easy, fast and flavorful.

I'm going to attempt something not so quick, hopefully next week. I got a top secret recipe from Allegra for ceviche. I will report on my attempt at this new venture for me in the kitchen. But the recipe is under lock & key.

We survived the gale force winds from yesterday. It's overcast and chilly, with rain on the way later. The beginning of May has not been promising. After a day in the barn, the horses will be excited to get out. Until they realize that once again it's just a patch of dirt. It won't be long before the pastures are ready for them. Poor things are bored stiff.

That's all the news fit to print.

Musings on Howard, Grace & Deeds Not Done

Home is where the doggie bed is.

Howard B. Hound

We are having a housebound afternoon; the wind is howling like a banshee. Howard makes himself comfortable in the bed he inherited from my wonderful old dog Bill. I braved the wind to pick lilac blooms, as I will be lucky if anything survives after being blown about with such force. My intention was to take a photo of the flowers, but I couldn't leave Howard out of the picture. Howard's only care in life is that food should arrive in his dish on time. This, I think would be a fine life.

It feels as if we will be swept up and taken to Oz. I wonder what I would ask the wizard for? I have a heart, courage and a brain. Perhaps I would ask for wisdom. Could I ask for worldwide wisdom? If so, I think that would be my request. I believe I could complete whatever quest I was set upon if I felt this would be the end result.

I do live in a house. I know I spend my time in a barn, in gardens and on a lawn tractor; I do indeed have walls around me that also need my infrequent attention. They need frequent attention, but it is doled out infrequently. I am not much interested in keeping a house. I think of it as a large dog house, as they make themselves at home wherever they find comfort. Gracie Greyhound, blurring the edges of acceptability. She knows she's not supposed to be there, but the consequences are not sharp enough to discourage a determined dog. 

Today I have tried to set my mind to the household tasks I so dutifully ignore, but find the ignore button is so easily reached and then pushed that I get nowhere, fast. The wind howls, the house shakes and I scratch a dogs ears, stare at the swaying spruce and wonder what I will do for dinner. The piles of dog hair that swirl at my feet simply disappears from my myopic line of vision. 

The house is quiet. The wind is pounding at the windows, seeking a way into the stillness of the room. Howard has moved from his bed to the stuffed chair in my office, his other bed. He is my constant companion, my good boy. It is becoming apparent to me that I will once again waste my time scratching Howie's belly, watching the wind pound the trees and telling Grace to get off the sofa. Dust will not be dusted, floors will not be swept. And I, if the truth is told, will not care.

Blink

You cannot stare into the face of horror without blinking. To do so will surely drive you mad. So today I blinked. I looked at what is blooming and unfurling and felt glad. It won't make the horror disappear, but it may keep me from the brink. Sometimes it truly is the small things.

Pink Honeysuckle

White Honeysuckle

Old Fashion Lilac

Dianthus 

Fiddle Head Fern

So I hunker down on my little piece of turf and put the things that make me want to drop to my knees, sobbing and cursing, away, into the little box inside my head that allows for the appearance of calm well-being. After you do what you can do, there is no alternative to going about the day-to-day as best as one can. Flowering bushes and lacy fern make it a little bit easier, at least for me. I hope it does for you as well.

America's Chernobyl

Hope is toxic if you hold onto to it too long without action.

Bill Moyers

Gerald Herbert

William Colgin

Patrick Semansky

Gerald Herbert

Mark Ralston

The Supreme Court recently gave corporations full rights as human beings. That should mean full responsibility as well. Eleven people are dead. An environmental disaster of epic proportion has occurred which will ultimately result in more death of humankind, as well as the probable destruction of countless species of wildlife. It is possible for this oil to go all the way up the eastern seaboard. I think a corporate death penalty is in order. Break them up. Give Haliburton and BP the death penalty.

Beautiful Lady Wrapped In White

My beloved craggy and ancient apple tree in all her marvelous glory.

Absolutely lovely, delicate flowers that become small, sweet fruit in the fall.

A happy bumble partaking of her nectar.

Industrious honey bees doing their due diligence.

Gathering nectar for the hive.

After a day of self-indulgent woe-is-me I thought it appropriate to show the other side of the coin. As long as the bad is balanced by the good, life stays on an even keel.

Too Many Irons

in that proverbial fire.

I overwhelm easier now. That is to say, I am overwhelmed. What I want and what I can do are not the same. They truthfully haven't been for a long time. In my mind dwells the life of perfect. In reality it is quiet chaos. And I am lucky that it is quiet. Not quite quiet desperation, but give me time.

I have a large place and mostly me taking care of it. In the past week I have scraped paint on the garage and primed and painted one door to completion, one to the first coat of paint and one primed only.

After I finish the doors I need to paint the garage itself. Yippee.

Then there are the gardens. It doesn't seem like that much, but it sure is feeling like it. This stuff is getting ready to bloom and I still haven't got all of the weeding and mulching done, much less any planting.

So I still have this bed,

and this,

and this

as well as this to weed and mulch.

And of course too many of these fine animals to care for. Mud, hair and tangled manes. I don't even consider clipping anymore.

I cannot forget this, which always needs to be cleaned.

The bright side is, I have three beds done like this. Northern gardens are not exotic, we work with what survives -30 + degrees F. 

And then there is still this project to be done. Repairing and staining the walkway. And sowing the nasturtium seeds. And fixing Howard's dead spots. And where the big hole was dug last year to repair the leak from the well to the house.

While I'm at it, I may as well give hives to Allegra of Beading Stars. All of this lawn to mow. Plus more in the back, as well as the grass dressage arena. And look what that awful man did to my trees. I'm feeling her purple passion.

I believe I just had a very fine whine. I'm all better now.

Ouch

I still bounce. I know this because I got the opportunity yesterday to find out.

I realize that what I experience in a day is not common in the world outside of the horse industry. Sometimes the large animals knock me around. Yesterday Laddy got spooked at the gate as the farrier tried to shoo the other horses away, so he made a move. Over me. I have this thing about not letting go of the rope, so I got dragged a little and then I got a good case of rope burn. I really should have let go, as he got loose anyway. But I never let go. So I should get back into the habit of gloves.

I also know better than to let people help me, as it usually goes wrong. But he insisted I needed help and would not be dissuaded. Unfortunately, my horses lead a sheltered life. This is a private farm, so there is not a lot of outside activity for my horses. There is routine and all things familiar. A man at the gate flapping a cap was too much for spooky Laddy. And there was that truck parked right there.

This is for those who don't know horses. They are prey animals, they are dinner for predators. This gives them a flight instinct; those with the strong instinct are more likely to survive than those without it. Except for one like Laddy. He stops thinking when he is frightened, leading to mindless reaction. In the wild, if he didn't end up dinner, he would surely end up committing suicide. For humans dealing with horses, the lack of survival tendency is not necessarily a bad thing. The 'dead heads' may not survive the mountain lion, but the human will survive life with the horse!

I have bred many mares and raised lots of foals. Sometimes the way the genes work surprises you. Laddy is the product of two wonderful horses. His sire is one of the nicest, most even tempered horses I have ever known. The mare will do anything I ask of her. Laddy cannot trust. A horse which is incapable of trust can never be trusted. So you are left scratching your head. It's called a nick, and these two bloodlines don't nick. I'm also left taking care of a horse that is of no use. But I caused him to be, so I care for him. And for two others that did not nick well.

Lest I leave an impression that horses are dangerous I want to say that this is not so. Of course they are large and they can think, which means they can have an idea different from your own. But they don't want to hurt you and most never do. It is the business of raising them and the number of them which sometimes puts me on the ground. The vast majority of horse owners never experience what I do. And since I stopped raising foals, I don't experience what it feels like to be hit by a linebacker much anymore. Except when nervous Laddy is overwhelmed by the guy with the cap and needs to exit. We'll blame it on the cap and let Laddy off the hook. If you have ever spent time with crazy horse people you know it's never the horse's fault.

I learned I still bounce. I got up, kept the horse from leaving and got him safely into the paddock. I was sore last night, but feel alright this morning. My hand is a bit of a mess, but it will be OK.  How's that for a glimpse into the life.

This is the reason why I did it. And why I still do.