Thinking Ahead

One thing I like about eating from my garden and storing food for the winter season is how it compels me to plan ahead. If I want tomatoes for winter, I must pick and can what is in my garden today. If I want green peppers for my chili or stews, I'd better get the peppers off the plant today and squirrel them away into the freezer. I know apple season is gearing up so I'd better call the orchard to see if they have bushels of our favorite varieties available. I am thinking about the windfall apples that are available for little money that make very good applesauce. There is a lot to keep in mind when you are gathering your resources together.

I admit that I have myself beat this year, though. I caught myself making a list that I usually don't make until January or February. My pad of paper is sitting next to my bed with "Things to Grow" written at the top and a nice list of vegetables lined up underneath. Here are some things on my list. So far.

Swiss Chard. I've never grown this before, but Rachel assures me it grows all summer and we eat a lot of greens.

Potatoes. I have room for a couple, or four, bushes along the side of the house.

Rasberries. We just pulled up the scabby shrubs in front of the house and we'll plant yummy berries.

Leeks. Again with the yummy.

Zucchini.

Turnips.

Basil. Gotta do it. Maybe 12 plants. I love freezing pesto for the winter.

Green peppers. We love green peppers and they are expensive at the store and often loaded with pesticides.

Onions. My parents had a huge crop this year and it looked really appealing.

Garlic. This is a fall-plant crop. It seems so effortless in spring when the shoots come up like magic.

Dill. I'm not sure this really counts because all of my plants come up as volunteers, but since I freeze the dill weed and dry some dill seed, I think I will count it.

Carrots. Next time I'm going to lay a board over the seeds until they germinate. This will prevent them from getting choked with weeds before they even get started.

Lettuce. We don't often buy lettuce at the store and after a long winter without much for fresh vegetables this first spring crop comes like manna from heaven.

Tomatoes. Usually I have about 12 tomato plants, but the blight was so bad this year that I am giving up for now. I'm going to give it a summer or two before I try more than a plant or two again. Blight overwinters in the soil so it can be difficult to get rid of. So, I'm going to give it a rest next year. I hope to get my tomatoes from my dad (right, Dad? Wink, wink!).

So, this is a start, of course. I may do some kale, too, and green beans (I strongly dislike picking green beans because the leaves make my hands itch). Green beans are so simple to can and everyone likes eating them so how can I help but plant a couple of varieties?

We just have a tiny suburban lot and only a smallish garden, at that. But there's so much that I can grow right at home. What things do you grow for yourself each year?

My Back, In Pieces

Oh, my Lord, but my back is aching.

It's that time of year again when the most routine of chores get ignored. Laundry piles us, bathrooms go unwashed (to some extent), meals are neglected and floors uncleaned. Canning season.

So far I've put up, let me see, 28 + 14 + 7= about 49 million quarts of tomatoes. There has been a batch of beets and green beans and a batch of sauerkraut Rachel made. She's making more because there is little else in this world Peter loves more than a pile of sauerkraut. We have plans, big plans, for another session of applesauce, too. Yes, the cellar's getting full and ready for winter. If only I had some squash. The long summer days are dwindling and we're making the most of them.

Next week school is starting and we're all ready to begin homeschooling Thomas. We're homeschooling for a number of reasons and it has been a new experience for me to actually make this information general knowledge to family and friends. It's unlike me to step out of line, to do something outside of expectations, and I've been surprised at how little the surprise of other people has affected me.

When I tell most people, I can tell they are taken aback and that there is a lot going on in their minds, but, this being the Midwest, they actually say very little. Universally, what they DO say is, "Well, what about socialization?" The peer interactions in school must have improved since I went through because I don't remember them being all that positive. Sure, I had friends, but the friends I have today are not the friends I knew growing up.

I don't know what the path will be like. I don't know how long we will do this, whether it will just be for Kindergarten or through college. I know Thomas has friends now and he'll have friends in the homeschool co-ops I hope to join and the scouting troops we'll hopefully be part of later. Really, I'm not worried. If nothing else, he'll learn to swear really well from me or my dad (who will handle any advanced cursing lessons).

In any case, no child of Peter's or mine has even a slim chance of being 'normal', regardless of where he or she is taught to read or write. Wish us luck!

Does This Zucchini Make Me Look Fat?

One day the garden zucchini is just a wee fingerling on the vine, the next you discover a zucchini so large that you beg it to be merciful to your children when it becomes your Benevolent Overlord.
The measuring spoons are provided for scale. I should have used Henry, but he was out with Peter when this photo was taken.

I'm not sure that this has any useful purpose anymore or if it should head straight for a position in politics, but I'm going to try shredding it and freezing it for winter, per Rachel's suggestion.

Also, I'm still interested in toe-up sock patterns, so if you have one, please feel free to give me your suggestion. I've been on Ravelry and I've found one potential pattern, but I have to wait to read through it before I'll know if it's going to work.

I'm back to my garden now. It's been sadly neglected this past week, so who knows what other surprises await!

How Does Your Garden Grow

Today we got our first harvest from our new garden.  Radishes.  Thomas and Anna were so excited to be able to pick some real vegetables, even though Thomas doesn't like "spicy food".  I pulled the radishes and handed them over our rabbit fence to Thomas who pulled off the tops for the compost.  Anna walked around the yard chomping the radishes like apples.  Who knew they came with a core?  Personally, I'm just thrilled to see that I can grow things after all.  I'm like a real farmer.

In other news, see what came in the mail for the new baby?

It's a beautiful, organic cotton baby hat that will be just right for a fuzzy baby head this winter.  It came from Kristina over at Yarnsticks!  It makes me glad that I live in such a snowy state.  Knitted warmth would be much less satisfying if I lived in Texas.  Thank you, Kristina!  I am pretty excited about this pretty little hat.

Funniest Things

This weekend we went to visit my parents at their hobby farm.  They live on seven acres just outside of a small town.  While they have scaled back their garden quite a bit since my brother and I have grown, it is still sizable and provides most of their vegetables for the year (and a large portion of my family's vegetables as well).  

We spent Father's Day doing things like scrubbing the dirt off of about 18 soaker hoses.  When that particular job was done, I was walking Anna back to the house, past the garden.  She exclaimed, pointing at the newly planted seedlings and sprouting plants, "Look!  They have food sticking out of the ground!"

I'm still laughing to think of it.  How strange the world must seem when you're two years old!

Cooking the Compost

Here's a really useful thing I've learned to do: make my own vegetable broth.

My sister in law, Rachel, has elevated cooking vegetable broth to something like neuro-science with variants that produce beef-like effects or chicken-like effects. She will often caramelize onions, add seasonings, or include extra vegetables to produce some desired, pre-designed result. This is wonderful and admirable. I aspire.

But, bless her understanding heart, Rachel taught me the bare-bones basics of constructing my own homemade vegetable broth. It's so simple that I thought I would share it here with you. Considering that boxed broth runs towards $2.50-$3 a box, it's a skill I find worth having.

When I want to make vegetable broth, I begin weeks in advance, really. Don't let this daunt you, though. I have a gallon size Tupperware container that I keep in the freezer and when I'm cooking dinner I simply throw my compost in this container instead of the compost bucket (with the exception of things like onion skins, which I don't think you're supposed to eat). That's right--carrot peelings, potato peelings, celery ends, squash seeds, old spinach and parsley, leek tops--all the things that I would normally stick in the compost pail I put in the Tupperware container. Gross, I know. But before you get all uppity about it, though, I beg you to consider what the manufacturers are using to construct the broth the store sells. I seriously doubt that they're using fresh, virgin produce unspoilt from the dew-kissed garden. Not for broth, my friend. Kind of makes you wonder what they use for the beef broth, eh?

Anyway, when the gallon container gets full, I start thinking about making my broth. When I'm finally ready to proceed, I pull the container out of the freezer, pull my stock pot out of the cupboard, and I'm ready to go. The frozen vegetable matter gets put in the pot and covered with water. I'll swish some water around the container to loosen any parsley leaves or carrot peels that get stuck. Then I put the big pot o' slop on the stove and bring it to a boil. If you want to add something and make this Work, you can peel and quarter and onion or two and toss it in the stew. Now it's time to cook the compost.

Let the veggies simmer for an hour, covered. Then, put a colander into a large bowl. Dump the pot into the colander to strain out your vegetables. Set the stock pot aside.

I like to put a plate on top of the mash to help me press out any extra liquid before I lift the colander out and hand it off to P to take to the compost bin. Then it's back to the stock pot for your broth. Let the broth simmer, uncovered, for another hour. At this point, I sometimes get fancy with the spices and add some pepper. Then it's off of the stove and into some old mason jars. I got the plastic lids you see in the picture at Wal*mart. I'm not sure if they carry them when it's not canning season, but it's worth a look. I let them cool a bit before putting them in my freezer. And then, ta-da! Homemade vegetable broth.

For the record, I think referring to this process as "cooking the compost" is totally hilarious. This is probably because this is exactly what you are doing when you make this recipe. This may be made even funnier for me, though, because Rachel always seems so affronted by my irreverence towards The Broth. One should not take lightly the making of The Broth, you see. It is Serious Business. One must not meddle with The Broth. I don't have the proper consideration and am really not Worthy. Compost, indeed.

In any case, if you want tips on elevating this to an art form, call Rachel. It is not zen-like, but you will get excellent results. Her French garden approach is the complement to my English garden approach. I may not do it as well, but I get it done. And I love getting that extra bit of use from my vegetables before they head off to the compost heap. Tonight I nearly saluted the colander as it made it's way out the door. Well done, my little veggies. You're little lives were not spent in vain. *sniff*

Have a good night! and Thank You, Rachel!

All Tucked In

This morning the kids and I spent a couple of hours putting the garden to bed for the winter. What you see in the photo are the homemade tomato cages that P put together for me a couple of years ago. He got the pattern for them from Mother Earth News magazine. Nothing says "granola crunching, sandals-with-socks hippy" more than homemade tomato cages from Mother Earth News magazine. But there they are, just the same.

I hate to wax poetic about this about as much as you're going to hate reading about it, but they are the best tomato cages you can imagine. Wide at the bottom, narrow at the top, they guide those bushy tomato plants loosely without pinching them like my wire cages do. The open framework allows easy access to those ripe tomatoes that grow deep within the plant's branches. I really like these frames. We put them up every summer. Even though I know how practical and useful they are, I can't help feeling like our neighbors think we're constructing antenna for alien contact when we put them up in the spring. They are odd looking, especially before the plants grow in. Because I neglected to fertilize, this summer the plants never really did grow in. Tall and leggy, the tomatoes looked rather pathetic. Putting these monstrous frames up felt like overkill. It was not unlike trying to shoot a squirrel with a grenade launcher.

After taking the frames down and stowing the metal cages in the garage (sort of, at least. I'm sure P will have a heart attack when he sees the haphazard manner in which I laid them on the workbench), I took the clippers and trimmed back all of the random tree shoots that have grown unhindered throughout the summer. Even though my garden is small I have the worst time keeping up on it. Random trees and bushes grow from the nooks and crannies of the garden. Weeds overrun the small space once I figure the vegetables are big enough to fend for themselves. Of course, up to this point the garden has been my own project. Either my parents or my in-laws till up the ground in the spring, and my dad keeps me supplied with his surplus seedlings, but the planting and watering and the weeding are all up to me. P certainly looked skeptical last week when I suggested planting a bigger garden next year. I want to grow some garlic and onions, carrots, turnips, and parsnips. There simply isn't enough room in our back yard, much less actual sunny space for a proper garden. I was trying to talk him into making the garden something of a team effort--we could actually mulch! Of course, after seeing the kind of neglect my garden already suffers from, I understand his reluctance to make the garden bigger. I'm sure he feels like the only way he gets spared the work of making our garden grow is to remove himself from the job altogether.

I can't say I blame him. Speaking only for myself, I have to admit that the best part of gardening is putting it away in the fall. No matter how leggy your tomatoes, or weedy your garden bed, once it's all put away you can look forward to a fresh start in the spring.