Are We Tired of Tomatoes Yet?

The saga of the tomatoes continues. I did dehydrate three trays of tomatoes yesterday; two Romas and one yellow plum. I also cooked tomatoes to freeze for sauce. So I got part of my list attended to.

Today I've made green tomato salsa verde with unripened Romas. The tomatoes were a very light green so the end result isn't vibrant in color but it is good in flavor. I got a jar for the refrigerator and three containers for the way over-packed freezer. If I squeeze these in there won't be room for a toothpick in there. There is another version of salsa verde other than the Mexican. There's an Italian salsa verde which is made with capers. It's apples and oranges.

I also made Pesto Rosso with the Romas and Pesto d'Oro with the yellow plums I dehydrated yesterday. Two jars for the refrigerator and two for the freezer. Read the above state of the freezer.

None of this can be used until after next Wednesday in any meal made for both of us. Mark has to leave garlic out of his diet for ten days before a biopsy he is having. This is a panic moment for me. A day without garlic is like a day without coffee. Maybe worse. I know there is a reason I haven't been visited by vampires, I do. I'm going to be reduced to sprinkling garlic powder on my food. One week. One looooong week. 

We have had a day of light rain. We need more than we are getting but it's better than nothing, if only to tamp down the dust. We are in drought. I got the last of my square hay bales yesterday and Bob said he'll start bringing the round bales this week or next. He's told me he has enough. I don't need them until November, so I feel good about the hay situation, even if it is expensive. Like everything else. 

The sun just made an appearance so I guess that's it for our sprinkling of rain. I'm sure my barn babies have been swearing under their breath about being in the rain on a day in the 50s. Zing has a shed, he's likely doing the na na na na to the others. I can't avoid kitchen clean-up any longer, a consequence of being a messy cook. Be well.

🎶Yah, Yah, Yah🎶

Over my life I have saved bits and pieces of the past. I still have my Official Beatles Fan badge! I still have the first two albums in a bookcase.

I didn't see the Beatles in concert when they came here in 1965 but I did see the Monkees! We were silly girls.

That was a little diversion. Mainly I wanted to say we had a fun visit with Bill and his wife, Sheila . We sat on their patio and were there for an hour and a half, talking allergies, religion, racism and tomatoes. And anything else a person may be able to think of! Bill and Sheila are an endangered species in this community....Democrats. Bill was concerned about getting my pellet stove fixed, I told him it will wait. Sheila told him it will wait. She was not happy with him for helping his brother the day before with his combine. They were both tired from the influx of family on Sunday and the lack of sleep they both had while Bill was hospitalized. It's good to have him back, now he just needs to listen. And there is the rub.

I am going to attempt to do something with the rest of the tomatoes today. I don't usually make sauce to freeze but I may just do that. I will also make salsa verde with the green tomatoes. How far I get is anyone's guess.

My son's brother-in-law has had very similar symptoms to mine, also undiagnosed. He went to the Mayo a couple of weeks ago. I sent a text to Matthew yesterday asking if there is any news, not yet. Since it's so similar I want to have something I can present to my doctor, at least as another option to investigate. The Mayo is difficult for me due to the animal circumstances and my last reliable helper being gone for a few years. If I can get a starting point from his visit it will be helpful. I have crossed fingers.

Mark needed to go to town so he's picking up the grocery order and tacos from the deli, Taco Tuesday. It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood, I hope it is for you as well.

Update

 

Not to sound like a broken record, but, another quiet day on the farm. We took a trip to Edina for my lab work this morning. It's a longish drive but otherwise uneventful. The young man got into my difficult vein without drama.

Mark called Neighbor Bill after lunch. We have been invited to visit at 2:30 this afternoon. Bill is tired but I think doing ok. It will be good to visit.

I wanted to do a brief update since a few people have expressed concern for Bill. I'll know more later today. Now I'm going to place an Aldi order for pick up tomorrow. This is the extent of my eventless life at the moment! Eventless isn't necessarily a bad thing, I know.

Later.

Uncertainty in Life

What I did on Friday afternoon.

I lit the second fire of the season on a chilly, blustery day.

 

I watched a three part series on Brit Box, The Barking Murders. Then I got an audio book from the library system and settled in for a listen.

It has been quite windy for the past few days which has kicked up allergy symptoms. I did manage to make chicken stock before I sunk into the throne for the rest of the day. We'll have tortellini soup for lunch, another good day for soup.

Life has been quiet. I am trying to keep myself away from the beehive of political chatter. I can't do anything about anything, other than vote. Depression is a lousy companion, I don't need to encourage its company. The library audio books have been a true blessing for me. I have to be in a particular mood to settle into something on the streaming channels, but I can listen to a book. 

Life just got less quiet a minute ago. Neighbor Bill called to say he's in the hospital. He nearly bit the dust when helping his brother with farm equipment. He has blood clots in his legs. This is particularly hard on him, his older sister died a couple of weeks ago and two brothers last year. He is feeling his mortality. Bill is our only friend in this community, we really like him and want to keep him.

Stay well, good people.

Cogs in a Wheel

Chunky potato, leek and ham soup for lunch yesterday. No cream, just the taters thickening it. Sage in brown butter garnish along with the brown butter. Filling stuff. Mark is meh about soup but he really liked this one. That's a score! It will be a repeat today.

A favorite meal was had for dinner. I love roasted chicken and I really love that everything in done in one pan. The evening light made the color a little off, but I do like the skin dark and crispy. And more bones, more stock. More stock, more soup.

Bob wanted to know how many more small square bales I need so I added up my total to date and it turns out to be only about 200 more. I still need 40 round bales, if they are the 1,100 pound rounds. If smaller I'll need more. I want the big ones, less moving bales to the paddocks. I'll take what I get.

I saw OPEC is going to reduce production by two million barrels per day. Here we go again. We are cogs in a perpetual wheel.

So We Go

Back to basics.

I made a blueberry clafoutis yesterday. I haven't baked in a couple of years, other than bread. The custardy bit looks anemic because I needed to use all the berries, which was five cups. Normally it's three cups, but it is good and blueberry abundant!

I finally made the egg bake now that I am feeling better. Lots of good stuff, including prosciutto and gruyere.

Former Neighbor, Jack, called last evening at 8:30 saying he wanted to come out now. It's a little over an hour drive. Mark had just got out of the shower and we hadn't eaten yet. People who don't live it do not understand life with livestock. Mark had just finished bringing the horses into the barn, getting them fed and watered and then unloading a couple of full racks of hay. Mark said no. Jack was taken aback, he didn't expect that. Because he has no comprehension of how long the days can get. And he and Caroline are night owls. I kind of remember my city life!

It's a pleasure to be enjoying summer's abundance in October. Even the weather has been warm. Today is the last of that, though. Still, it's been appreciated.

So...onward and upward fine people. One more day in the life.

I Saw the Light

Frieda was sitting on her piano, the upright sitting position, in profile. She has a pretty profile. I saw the lovely light and the lovely kitty and decided to take a photograph. I messed around with the framing of it too long, when I finally got around to taking that photo, Frieda had left the picture. No tortoiseshell but the light is pretty. The rocking horse belonged to my son, my husband at the time knew someone who made them. I am fond of it.

Former Neighbor Jack didn't make it out here yesterday. Which worked out well for Mark. Hay Guy came with two loads that he and Mark had to unload. It was just before Jack was supposed to arrive when Ken pulled in with the hay. Mark was relieved when Jack called to say he couldn't make it. We need about 400 more square bales for the season and 40 round bales. It's been a dry year, hay is scarce. I need to buy a lottery ticket.

Today I will pick the remainder of the tomatoes. We are coming into normal temperatures for Minnesota in October, so this will be the end. I have enough tomatoes preserved to last a couple of years. I'm going to make salsa verde with whatever green tomatoes I pick. Anything ripe will likely be dehydrated. Thanks Val!

As a note of interest mainly for myself, my sinus problem and the knockout punch it gave me has lessened by a lot. It takes being really ill to appreciate feeling well!

I guess it's off to the tasks, I have a list, one or two will be done. Ah, well.

Parsley Sage Rosemary no Thyme

We have stayed in contact with our immediate neighbor from Saint Paul these almost thirty years. Mark has continued to do his taxes. He drives out here twice a year and it's such a pleasure to see him, even though he is a dyed-in-the-wool trumper. We work at avoiding that topic. We like him and he likes us, so we just push that difference to the side. Which is easy when you see one another about two hours a year.

Lately, I need something to prod me into action. Jack's coming today is the prod. He and his wife, Carolyn, always knew me as an organized person with a clean house. HA!!! I don't want to shock Jack's system. Carolyn told me one time that my house looked like no one lived in it. I'm afraid that kind of organization is no longer in the cards, and that is a good thing. I am not such a tight-ass anymore.

I need company more often. The house could be crumbling around us and Mark wouldn't notice. That man spends a lot of his time somewhere else, even when he's standing right in front of me. I never have to worry about a nagging husband, so it's not really a complaint, just a wonder how two people can be so opposite. In our case it works well. I can't be told what to do and he doesn't care what I do as long as he eats!

Onto another story: Mark just brought in the herbs I'm going to, once again, try to overwinter. The sage and rosemary did make it last year. The sage look bedraggled, it needs some water and also, I gave it a very short haircut a week or so ago.

The ferns got huge. When I bought them in June the fronds didn't cover the pot. One will hang in front of the kitchen window and one will sit on a tall stool in the sunroom. I just gave them a drink.

I have never had luck with basil over the winter, but I'll try again. I haven't brought parsley in but I'm thinking it will do fine.

So, this is my grand excitement. I'm doing some house cleaning, crowding the kitchen with plants, general mayhem. After tomorrow it gets cold. It's near 80 today! I may need to break down and start the furnace on Wednesday. 

Happy trails.

Relics

How different children looked in the 1950s. Can you imagine seeing a little girl like this now? No. Photos of children are excellent in showing societal and fashion change from era to era. This is my cousin, Marie. She was eleven years older than I was and one constant in my life. I was perhaps three? Marie looked like her dad, nothing like my mother's family. Marie died from a rare condition I no longer remember the name of. That was in 2012, two years after my father died. I still miss her.

Another relic. This radio was in the basement rec room for as long as I can remember. 

 

My memory is that it was my dad's. Perhaps he got it after WWII. He spent the entirety of the war in the Navy and was discharged after the war ended. It used to work during my childhood. I brought it home and cleaned it up in 2020. It does not work now!

The basset on top of the radio was a kind, thoughtful gift from a friend who is a gourd artist. Who knew such a thing existed? My much adored Howard died in 2017 and I was devastated. Barbara took a photo from facebook and made a gourd Howard for me. I call the print on the right Psychedelic Howard. He would not be amused.

I have a quieter than usual day ahead. Mark has gone to Stillwater, which is on the eastern edge of Minnesota along the St. Croix River. On the other side of the river is Wisconsin. His sister lives there and family is getting together. A brother living in Nebraska is in town. It will be a long day for him.

So I'm home with a deaf German Shepherd who has decided her calling in life is barking and two cats, one who doesn't think I deserve to live here, the other is on the fence. It's a toss up as to whether I do something or plant myself in the throne chair and listen to a new book all day. I'm cutting myself a break by calling it even chances, we all probably know that's not true!

While sitting here at my desk I have decided what's for dinner this evening, so one thing accomplished. I never know where inspiration will appear, it usually comes from seemingly nowhere, why would a quiche pop in my brain from what I wrote in this post? I'm not going to try to figure that one out.

Mothers. Cooking. Life.

My mother was not a good cook. She made a couple of things well, actually very well:  a top-notch lasagna and simmered-for-hours red meat sauce. Those were really good. But, no one over-cooked meat better than she did. No one. She hated cooking, so...it was  not on her list of things to care about. I didn't learn from her, other than to stay out of her way.

I married young. I spent the first year out of high school earning as much money as I could. Then one year in college. I married at twenty. I didn't know how to just leave home. I'd stayed with friends the summer I graduated high school, but that was almost a mortal sin, not to be repeated. So, I found a guy and got married. Kate had told me before I became engaged that if I didn't get married soon I would be an old maid. She told me when I was thirteen it was a good thing I was smart. No man would ever want to marry me. She then said it was a good thing my brother was good-looking, because he sure wasn't smart. He found out, when he enlisted in the Navy, that he was dyslexic. He was always smart. 

Of course, I married someone my own age, the last of seven children. Spoiled, used to having people jump in to pick up whatever mess he got into. He also had a problem I didn't understand until later. He was an addict and an alcoholic. I thought he'd stopped the drugs and I didn't realize the extend of the alcohol use until I lived with him. I loved his family, especially his mother. She was probably the kindest person I had known. My mother couldn't stand her. Of course she couldn't. As everyone knows, that marriage was short, but I was out of my parents house now.

Well, that wasn't my initial point! I tend to go with stream of consciousness. 🤷

Back to cooking. I could do basic cooking, nothing to write home about. I did make the lasagna and spaghetti sauce once in awhile, but cooking was not my thing. In the late '70s I bought the book on the lower right. It was a higher level than I was at but not overly complicated. As you can see, I used it! Then I bought the second one when it came out a year later. I found meal preparation to be enjoyable. I didn't have much free time, but when I did I enjoyed cooking. When we moved to Summit Hill I made good friends with some really fine neighbors and we would take turns having dinner parties. I then bought the book on the left. This book teaches French technique. From the most simple, which is always the basis for the next step, to hair pulling, why am I bothering, complexity. Although I wouldn't take that on now, back then I had more time and a willingness to learn. Also, an acceptance of failure. This book gave me a foundation.

After we moved to the farm I became crazy busy and cooking went on the back burner. Fourteen hour days in a barn will do that. The past fifteen or so years I started showing interest again. Not complicated French food. Simple rarely from a recipe food. Standard Americana and Mediterranean food that I can just throw together. But it's easier to do, I think, because I allowed myself all the frustration of learning the fussy business of a French kitchen.

A favorite recipe was given to me by an elderly Italian woman I knew when I worked in Occupational Therapy. She was a patient and I adored her. She gave me her recipe for manicotti. I still have it on a recipe card. Signora Mancuso's Manicotti. I have an English Pasty recipe from the head of the department. Her mother came from England and it was her recipe. These are things to be treasured.

My son is a fine dining chef. He says he blames me for his career. I tell him I never worked in a professional kitchen. He started that as a teen when he went to work at a local pizzeria washing dishes then moving onto the line. When he went off to college he ended up working part time in the kitchen of a fine dining restaurant and the rest is history. 

If we like what we do, we tend to put the time into learning and improving. Because even in frustration, or exhaustion (long days in a barn), underneath, we like it. We receive pleasure and a sense of accomplishment and a feeling of worth. This is a universal truth. Say I.