The Homestead

We moved from a lovely historic area of St. Paul, a three story brick house built at the turn of the twentieth century to this. A mess of a house in a rural are, close to the cities but definitely rural. And a mess. Poor Mark, raised on a dairy farm, living a nice life in the city and then....boom. THIS. I saw it and saw potential. He saw it and wanted to run. Fast. He has always had trouble saying no to me and this was not an exception. I got my farm. After we moved here I wondered what I was doing? I had never lived outside of a city in my life. I was nervous about the isolation. My horses didn't come here until spring, months away. I was driving to Stillwater every other day to see them. Stillwater is on the western border of Wisconsin, way east of where I now lived. I second guessed myself often, something I was not prone to doing.

I loved this barn.

This is an after photo, probably taken about seven years ago. The two large box elder trees are now gone. There is a large red cedar now in front of the screened porch. There were two of them, but they were overtaking the house. They seed themselves and grow fast. The red door and window trim is now white. Other than that it's the same. It took a lot of work and a couple skilled guys to get it done. This is the house Dick,  Patrick and Sandra built.

This house has three eras. The round end, going to the screened porch is the newest, 1985. The middle, where the screened porch is was part of the original farmhouse. It was two stories. The farmer removed the second story and built a rambler addition to the west in 1973. I don't know when the farmhouse had been built. We put the screened porch on in 1994. The foundation had been laid by the previous owner who didn't finish it. He had plans to put a second story on the 1973 addition and left the blueprints with us. We didn't need a second story.

I was painting the veranda floor, which is why the furniture is on the lawn. Always, always needing to paint something. I need to paint it again but I haven't been able to.

We painted the barn white. There were six stalls in the barn, we added thirteen more and five more in an attached pole barn. Since my mobility problems the interior has become dusty and cobwebbed  Mark keeps the stalls clean but he doesn't do housecleaning. I'm grateful he takes care of them.

This is the eastern end of the 1985 addition put on by the man we bought from. He was an entrepreneur with a serious drinking problem. He would make a bunch of money, have some work done and then quit. It was a cycle, I guess. He bought from the farm family whose ancestors had homesteaded it in the 1800s. It is a story relayed by neighbors that the father, cheap bastard, wouldn't pass the farm down to his son the way his father and all the fathers before him had done. He wanted market price. So the son moved to a dairy farm in Wisconsin and the man we bought from became the owner.

Mr. Wonderful, aka Zing, when he was perhaps two. He is my remaining stallion and he is also my orphan baby. That's a whole other story.

This post came about after I had posted the Bat Cave photo and I had commented to Val that this place had been a mess. I've shown you the outside, sometime I'll show you what I had to deal with inside. I'm sure I have photos. As part of the Fallon family I must have photos, it's in my DNA. 

I have a strong attachment to this house and property. It's where I finally found myself, the self I could be. Not the one I was repeatedly told I was by a sociopathic mother and a compliant father. I created something out of a shambles. I raised horses, I buried horses. I lived with horses, a whole bunch of wonderful dogs, most of which no one wanted and I grew up. 

Soft Ball. Hard Ball. Laughter.

Shhh, don't tell Mark he's starring today. 

Mark is a nervous energy guy. My kitchen floor is proof of that, there is a wear pattern from his pacing. Under the best of circumstances he has an anxiety aura. With the health problems it has gone up several notches. Which is why I snapped this photo and am posting it, even though it's not a good photo, it was actually dark outside but the phone adjusted the light and gave everything a weird glow. Back to the point. He was talking to his brother and he started laughing, laughing with gusto. It was wonderful to hear and I just picked up my phone, zoomed in and click. He was in a good mood for the rest of the evening. Such a pleasure. 

I made turkey and dumpling soup for last evenings dinner. There's two more meals left. Dumplings are one of those things people have opinions about. Mark would tell me he didn't like them, then I'd make them and he liked them. Repeat this right up to yesterday. He has hard, gluey in his brain and it won't leave, even after four decades. One of the challenges of life with, his words, a weird guy. I like soft, fluffy dumplings. The kind that fall apart just slightly as they simmer. I like them large, don't ask me why. Maybe I kid myself I only had one. Mark only knew the ping pong ball dumplings. I make soft balls. I have enough turkey left to make a shepherds pie. I have to use eggplant I've had a little too long, it's starting to go over. That will be tonight, shepherd pie will need to wait.

We got about 7" of snow yesterday. Today it is blustery and cold. The snow is heavy so it's not blowing around too much. I have a delivery coming tomorrow, which means I can probably wait to plow until morning. It's a little too blowy for me unless I must do it. Mark said he'd do it. No, I have plowed since we moved here and I'll plow until I cannot find a way to get up on that skid steer. Dagnabbit!

Off I go to make some bread dough, we find ourselves out of bread. No fermented loaf today, just a few hour rise. We have dumplings for lunch, we will be okay. I'll check in on everyone this afternoon. Toodles.

Boys and Toys and Kitchens

Yesterday I found Frieda had vomited on my desk and keyboard. The keyboard wouldn't work after I cleaned up the mess, so I had no access to this site, other than my phone which I don't like to use for this. I was able to get a new keyboard the same day, so by evening it arrived and here I am. The things we grow dependent on. My laptop died last month and I've chosen to not replace it. I really don't need it.

We, as it seems much of the country is, are getting a lot of snow. Not what Buffalo got a week ago, but about 7". Not feet! Snow is much nicer to look at. The drab grey we have had since the melt last week was depressing. I will actually need to plow.

I know I have said my son is a chef and I know that word has become casually used to describe a good cook. My son is a chef. He worked in fine dining with the brigade de cuisine system for the first 25 years of his career. He started as a sixteen year old as a dishwasher at Pizza restaurant. When he went to Bemidji for his sophomore year of college he started working in a new fine dining restaurant as a line cook. He got hooked on it, I know not why. When he returned to St. Paul he got a job which altered his life, an ambitious head chef who saw something in him and brought him up the stations. He became the Sous Chef to this future James Beard award winner and his Chef de Cuisine in the restaurant the chef eventually owned. It's a hard way to earn a living, the hours are grueling and the work is hot and hard on the body. A few years ago he left fine dining and went to gastro pubs. After the pandemic, when he didn't have work, he decided he wasn't doing management anymore, he wanted to be an hourly employee with set hours and days off. He has a job at a chi chi hotel in Minneapolis that he really likes. With his background he is a desirable employee. He is in charge of breakfast and lunch service and then he is done. He is enjoying this. So, my explanation of my very smart son who decided to work in a professional kitchen, because....? Passion, I guess.

Now onto another topic involving young men. This truck. A 1997 one ton Chevy diesel dually used primarily for pulling my horse trailer back in the day. It's also used for picking up large loads like grain, pellets, etc. All the years out here we always had three vehicles, my Jeep, Mark's car and the truck. We gave Bill the Jeep early this year. The truck has been going on the road a little more and stopping for fuel or in a parking lot, young men lust over it. Seriously. I don't think any man ever looked at me the way they look at the beast. I guess this is now considered classic by the twenty-somethings and they get bright-eyed looking at it. I own something young men want!

Mark is taking his CPE course today and tomorrow and I get the fun task of sitting at his desk when he needs to be away from it for a bit. I have to click the icon that periodically appears to show you are in attendance. His work would bore me into a coma. I just spent some time with it. Good god.

I think I'll stop before I go onto some other thrilling topic. So happy to have a keyboard!

My daughter-in-law and granddoggie, Homer. He is the sweetest little guy.

We had a very nice day with them for Mark's birthday. The son made steak with a beurre rouge sauce, roasted potatoes and a delicious spinach salad. Topped off with Dutch apple pie! It was a beautiful day in the mid-fifties with lots of sunshine and no wind. The weather gods looked kindly upon Mark on his day. I held Homer for a long time and got to see Murphy the cat. He had shown up in our barn winter of 2012. He spent the winter and early spring with us. I had a house cat that would not tolerate other cats, all the dogs I wanted to have were fine by her. No Cats! He is the sweetest laid back fellow and I didn't think he would survive outside life so I gave him to my mother. When she died Matthew took him. Big old love bug.

Mark will be taking advantage of the moderate weather today and tomorrow to spread manure. Yep, life on the animal farm. What goes in, must come out. What comes out, must be spread. It's a cycle. We have half a turkey left so I'll take the meat off and make stock with the bones. That will be my day. Better than hauling manure.

Birthday Bash

Today is the old boy's birthday. He's celebrating this morning by turning out the equines and now going to pick up grain and water softener salt. The excitement may be too much for him! We will be heading to North Minneapolis for lunch with the son and his wife. That will be a nice change from the daily routine. Someone else will be doing the cooking, another nice change.

I had no photo of Thanksgiving, so ta-da.....yesterday's post Thanksgiving lunch, in all its starchy-ness!

 

We are on a weather rollercoaster at the moment. We're supposed to have a high of 51 F today. Most of the snow has melted, but more is to come on Tuesday, when we get back to more seasonable weather. The pellet stove is working and keeping half of the house warm on low setting. I feel happy to have finally got it fixed. I cannot even say why I let it go for years. But, it is fixed now.

I guess I should prepare myself for an afternoon of peopling. As a naturally reclusive person who has been living in a cocoon for a couple of years it is hard work peopling! Whew. 

Day After

They are empaths, they felt our food coma.

I know we did. Mark said he should not be allowed to put food on the plates. I agree, I knew it was too much but I ate it anyway. 

 

I put a fire in the Bat Cave the last couple of days. It's been temperate outside so having a giant hole open in the chimney didn't matter so much. The light at dusk is soft and everything glows. We rarely use this room anymore. It was great when I still entertained, open to the kitchen and perfect for people to mingle. Now we snuggle up in the room of glass behind it.

I know this is hard to comprehend, considering my propensity for food photos, but I took not one photo! Of food, that is. I did take a couple of photos, obviously. We go to the son's house tomorrow for lunch. That will be a nice change. It's easier if he does the cooking, my son is a chef, since his wife is a vegan and I would rather not have that responsibility. He is not vegan so he cooks for her and then the rest of us when we visit. We get to see his Yorkie and the cat I gave my mother years ago. He took Murphy when Kate died. Murphy has been good for their other cat who was very skittish. Big old Murph is calm and gentle.

I hope you all who celebrate Thanksgiving had a day of good food, good company and an empathetic cat or dog or something to feel your food coma with you.

Thank You For Being Here

Happy Thanksgiving!

Turkey is the oven. Pie is made. I'm about to make the dressing. It is a quiet, easy holiday for me. I hope you all have a day of food, company and happiness. 

Bits

There is some material available.

What a couple of minutes scraping of Keetah produces. She has limited patience for brushing, so I do the best I can before she bolts. Then she guards her hair.

I got some work done yesterday, which means I stayed off the computer and phone. Today will be busy but I'll take some time to see what's going on with you all. I haven't made a pie in several years. I have pared it down to a galette, which is a rustic open pie. Don't think it hasn't crossed my mind to make one with pumpkin. Part of the trepidation is Mark raves about my crust and I am very out of practice. I can see crust failure in my future. Otherwise the meal is simple enough. Over the years, especially after the death of my father almost 13 years ago, I have made the meal more simple. It's down to turkey, dressing, mashed potatoes (which I could do without, but not Mark), gravy and a vegetable. None of this is difficult. I'm just hung up on the pie!

I took this photo of Tripod Kitty last evening while she was giving herself a spa treatment. This chair belongs to her, no one else, including Frieda, sits in it. She gets along amazingly well with one front leg. She can run and jump without effort. I don't think she can catch mice, she has Frieda for that. Somewhere along the way I turned into an old cat lady. Who'd a thought?

Come Here, My Pretty. Said the Cat to the Mouse.

Cats. Just Because....

Mark had a productive appointment with the radiologist yesterday. He met with her for two hours! He told me he asked a lot of questions. Why am I not surprised? Where questions are concerned, no one does it better. He is confident in her and in the treatment and now has a schedule set up for six weeks, starting January third. 

My serial killer, Frieda, got two mice sometime during the night. Poor Keetah was upset and guarding a mouse corpse this morning. Frieda did a perfect cat swagger through the kitchen, laid down and preened herself, I think cockily, but then aren't cats always cocky? Yes, but she had a little something more. 

Mark has some shopping to do today if he wants a proper Thanksgiving dinner. I saw an article yesterday about how expensive these items are at this time. I need to remember to take the roasted pumpkin out of the freezer since I have promised a pie. Mark asked if I wanted a premade crust. I would love to say yes for the ease of it, but one thing I do well is pie crust and it really would feel like I threw in the towel. So, no. Not yet.

I got nothing other than laundry done yesterday so I must concentrate on the dog hair and dust. Put down the book. Clean the house. Yes. OK. I really do need to get it done, for my own sake. 

German Shepherd Detritus and Other Fine Things

No talk of music, cats, dogs, clowns or jokers. Back to basics. Although warmer yesterday it was still cold so we had soup for lunch. I don't know what happened to Mark, but he delightedly said "soup for lunch". He used to see soup as not food!

Then, this is what using what you've got on hand becomes for dinner. I had a small amount of leftover meatloaf. Tomatoes and shredded zucchini from the freezer, curtesy of the garden. Some garlic, basil cubes and pappardelle, a little parmigiano and it was dinner. Done in the time it takes to boil water.

 

Mark's birthday is Saturday. We are invited to the son's house that day as we don't see them on Thanksgiving. It's been a year almost to the day since we have seen his wife. She has a new job she's happy with and I think things are going well for them.

Mark meets with the radiologist later this morning to go over the treatment plan. I think he starts treatment sometime in December. Mark's absolute favorite holiday is Thanksgiving because of the food and leftovers, so he is really pleased his treatment won't be messing that up for him. He has a few items to pick up for his favorite day and the turkey gets picked up on Wednesday. I need to rally to make a pie, the guy is obsessed with pie. A birthday, cancer...I think I need to make a pie.

That's about it. The sun is shining again, it's in the 20s F and heading for a warm up. I need to find the energy to clean the place, German Shepherd hair is everywhere. Anyone who may do spinning, I could keep you supplied....just saying.