red

yeah, yeah... I'm back in business. There's too much good stuff that happens in our life to let it just slip by. I must write!

So, with Fall comes the beginning of 4H. RT's only request at the end of 4H last year was that could he please raise a steer because he didn't want to be the only boy in middle school showing his Nigerian Dwarf goat at the fair... What, not manly enough for you RT?

After much discussion, analysis, reasoning, rationalizing, and agonizing we decided to cross over to the dark side... raising a market animal. Meat animal. Short term project... and after too many glasses of wine at an FFA benefit dinner, one introduction, and one phone call later, RT became a beef cattle rancher... a rancher of one.

Red.

In the idealic setting of farmland and rolling hills, at a dear friend's home, a handsome - clearly champion worthy - hereford steer has come to live. My son's first business endeavor... well, besides the market eggs of last year. And I'm not making fun... those eggs fetched a silver Supreme Champion belt buckle and $250 at the livestock auction... not bad for 12 stinking eggs.

Anyway, back to Red. RT didn't over think the name. It was between Burger (too mean, I said), #110 (ear tag), and Red (note his color.) But we are over thinking everything else: brand of feed (hours of research), type of hay (tried two types already), halters, coat blowers, corral fencing, exercise schedule, weigh dates, hoof trimming, blow drying...

And I thought blow drying the chickens was weird.

OK, blow drying chickens is weird...

In this short period of time we have all already learned so much: there is no end to the number of flies in the world, cow tongues are scratchy, cow poop is easier to clean up than horse poop (cow poop stays together in one plop), cows like to play (yes, Red was trying to play when he was tossing his head and running after RT... "Stay behind the tree" I'm yelling. Please God let no one have filmed us...) Anyway the learning goes on and on and on. So stay tuned. This project is sure to yield some great laughs!

country goodness

There is the most wonderful place of country goodness that I have discovered deep in the heart of the tiny town I live in.

The Hen House.

The Hen House is full of all things wonderful... fairy lights, cobwebs, laughter, and the most mouth watering, delicious smelling, homemade soaps and lotion you'll ever come across.

Ever.

The Hen House is a family-run shop on the property of my new friend, Veronica. She shares the shop with her best friend... so you can tell already, good things are happening in this little place. The shop itself is one of the out-buildings of the original dairy that called this gorgeous piece of property home.

From the time you turn onto the drive-way lined with untamed grape vines and rose bushes set off by the beautiful, lush irrigated pastures as a backdrop, a peaceful, warm feeling comes over you.

When you pass under the rusty iron arched trellis, stepping carefully on the concrete stone that has "welcome" scrolled on it, you are greeted by a friendly selection of lazy ranch dogs.

And you indeed feel welcome.

Whether you are being helped by a daughter or a niece or Veronica herself, you feel like the afternoon's most special visitor. You are told about the latest soaps, the yummiest lotion creations, and of course, any local news that has flown through the hen house...

Magical.

time to exhale...

I have been holding my breath for a week now. Ok, maybe not holding it completely, but I've definitely been taking shallow, jagged breaths, with my eyes squinched tightly shut, while I've waited for the dust of this last week to settle. I couldn't write, no photographs, I barely cooked.

You see, school started on Monday. And while that's a simple little sentence that I just typed, the actual meaning of it for this family is ginormous, life-altering... shallow-breathing-worthy...

After having an absolutely horrendous school year last year for three out of four of us... the prospect of it all starting up again seriously made me stop and examine what was really important to me and us, as a family.

The results?

Us, as a family.

Plain and simple. Our health - mental, emotional and physical... our time - well spent, relaxed, precious... and each other - inspired, at peace, and happy. All of which is compromised by the addition of school...

With one child heading to fifth grade (fifth grade math, fifth grade girl drama), one child heading to middle school (middle school math, middle school drama) and one parent heading to first grade (luckily, first grade math I can handle...) there was all the makings for a serious formation of the pressure cooker of last year.

However, upon waking up this morning, the Saturday morning of the first week, I had a very "Wizard of Oz" kind of feeling - the scene where the house falls on the Wicked Witch and after things settle, with the coaxing of Glenda the Good Witch, the little munchkins peek out from behind the bushes and hesitantly tip toe back out into life.

As the munchkins in our little life, emerging from the bushes, RT is kicking serious middle school booty, Bee is over-the-moon for her teacher, and I am thrilled with the group of little ones I will be spending my days with this year.

Lower the shoulders, open the eyes, unclench the fists, big exhale...

Dust has settled and I think we're all going to make it... of course, I'll cross my fingers just in case...

proud mother!

Well, after 21 days... actually 22 days of sitting on a clutch of eggs, Henrietta is the proud mother of four teensy little chickie-pies!

One tan and brown, one gray, two yellow and brown weighing as much as a feather and healthy as can be.

Mother is NOT resting comfortably. She's chasing chicks around the hen house, keeping all of the nosey Aunts away.

And really, the Aunts aren't interested in the chicks... it's the chick crumble that they want... those fat, pushy Aunts...

whoa there...

Wow, where did the weekend go? Lucky for me, part of the weekend was spent learning how to make jam with my sister. I have always, always, always wanted to learn how to make my own jam. To me, making your own jam is the quintessential country girl thing to do.

How many thousands of ladies across numerous generations have stood in sweltering summer kitchens just like my sister and I did? Creating yummy recipes in the middle of a busy and bustling kitchen. Kids in and out, and in and out. Dogs circling around looking for a cool place to rest. Kitchen fans whirling, trying to keep the steam scattered, while the pots on the stove filled with sugary goodness bubbled and boiled madly.

The results? Jams for all palettes: blackberry, peach, blackberry lemon basil, blackberry merlot, cinnamon blackberry vanilla, and peach jalapeno thai basil.

We used peaches from our trees, basil from our garden, and yes, blackberries from our lane. Not too hard, not too easy. A summer country culinary tradition that was just right!

De-lish, with a capital D

counting our pumpkins before they've hatched...

Every year I have a struggle planting pumpkins. It's not that the actual act of preparing the ground and planting that's hard. It's the fact that every year we work like dogs to plant everytyhing else in the garden and because you have a little bit of time before pumpkin seeds should go in the ground I am always late doing it.

But this year is a whole different story....

Ground prepared? Check.

Seeds purchased? Check.

Irrigation lines run? Check.

Sunny warm weather? Sunny warm weather? Bueller? Bueller?

Hey, where's the stinking sun?

We have had a crazy, insanely, seriously unusually cool summer. And while I personally love, love, love it! As a gardener it's no bueno.

"Look, Mother Nature... I have two large children, one small niece and her two mini girl friends that I am supposed to be growing a pumpkin patch for. I held up my end of the bargain - for once - so bring it! Cast you light, give us your best shot, let'er rip."

Sun on the pumpkins, please, ma'am.

Please?

purple hands...

The thing about living on our lane is that you spend a portion of the summer with purple hands. Part of our beautiful road is lined with the most luscious wild blackberries that you have ever tasted. And as soon as the they come ripe... "Let the games begin!"

You only have a small window of time that the berries are ripe for the pick'in. Too early and they are seriously sour. Too late and they dry up or get eaten by the birds. So, when the time is right, it is a mandatory family activity to pick for as many nights as we can until we can't take it any longer... until our arms and hands are scratched and stinging from the thorny vines protecting the berries.

Yeah, wild blackberry vines make you pay dearly.

Each night we don our rubber boots, load the berry boards into the landscape cart, get our bucket and hit the road. The berry boards are long boards ( like 2"x12"x8') that we can stand on. You toss one end into the vines then walk like you are walking the plank of a pirate ship up into the berries. Got'cha!

My favorite time to pick berries is at dusk. Tonight as we picked in silence - a rarity- you could hear the horses in the pasture on the other side of the berries. You could hear their hoof beats as they goofed around, bucking and playing in the evening breeze. You could hear the crickets tune up and begin their night music. Dogs barking in the distance. Oak leaves rustling overhead.

Peaceful.

Peace and purple hands...

miley, not cyrus...

Miley is a cat.

Miley is a very cool cat.

Miley is perfectly chocolate brown and white, like no other cat I have ever seen.

Miley sleeps every night on top of a big pillow that is on top of the hope chest at the end of our bed.

Miley is a fierce hunter and on this particular day Miley was bent on "fake" hunting this chicken (either Salt or Sugar, we can't keep them straight... go figure...).

Miley slinked right up to that chicken, and that chicken took right out after Miley...

See Miley.

See Miley run from Angry Chicken.

See Angry Chicken nearly connect with Miley's rear-end...

Lucky Miley...

sunday surprise!

Yesterday we discovered a summer treasure... the Pear Fair in Courtland, California. Courtland is a tiny town along an area of the Delta that is known for it's fabulous pears. So on this mild Sunday morning, we decided to check out the 39th annual Pear Fair.

After turning off the the levee River Road we descended into what seemed like a movie set... a tiny little town that consisted of a volunteer fire department, a school, a town hall, a church and a few blocks of charming old homes. There was the usual fair-type children's games, classic car show, vendors and a way-too-loud band playing under the enormous white tent. And also to our delight, there was the food!

We decided we could only eat food that had some sort of pear in it. So, let'er rip! We had prickly pear smoothies, fuzzy pear smoothies, pear sausage, pear pie, and finally, nachos with pear salsa.

Yum. Yummy, yum, yum...

But, I have to say, the food was not the best part of the day... The best part of this summer Sunday was the Pear Fair Parade.

We were witness to one of the most endearing parades I have ever seen. Led by the Pear Fair royal court, pretty high school girls being driven in classic cars, the short parade passed between the church and the town hall, circling the square one time. There were old tractors that had been cleaned up for the day, make-shift floats celebrating generations of river family farms, the high school cheerleaders and an assortment of young boys on quads.

And as each floats passed by, they were greeted by the Fair Pear Queen, Miss Sarah Simpson, a Courtland classic lady dressed in her pear suit and holding her staff and basket - a tradition we guessed. You could hear shouts of "Hello" and "Hey there" coming from the parade participants as they passed by.

With the giant trees that lined the streets shading the parade, small kids on their daddy's shoulders waved and clapped while some grown-ups chose to watch from the wine tasting tents or from their lawn chairs along the route.

As the parade came to an end, the new Pear Fair Queen was crowned as her Pear Blossoms, tiny future queens, surrounded her. 1940s music was keyed up over the loudspeakers and the crowd dispersed to resume eating, visiting or just relaxing in the shade.

After all, they needed their strength for the Pear Pie Eating Contest at 2:30...

wonderful evening!

I love nothing more than making impromptu plans. Something about acting on a spur of the moment idea makes the idea even that more cool when the plans works out.

Sitting in my classroom on Friday afternoon, when I should have been prepping for the quickly approaching next school year, I found myself checking my email and seeing a reminder about a free jazz concert at a local winery... operative words being free and winery. In a split second and two texts later we had plans with our wine-loving friends and their kids to attend a jazz concert on the lawn at McConnell Estates Winery.

A quick trip to the store, home to pack blankets, chairs and sweatshirts, and we were on our way.

Having never been to a concert at this winery we had no idea what to expect. But when we rounded the curve on the path to the lawn we were completely enchanted. Huge shade trees strung with fairy lights and paper lanterns, blooming flowers in manicured beds, and luscious green grass sprinkled with oh-so-mello folks enjoying wine and the company of friends!

The weather was perfect. The wine was delicious. The conversation was filled with banter and laughter. The kids were occupied with dancing, building pyramids, generally acting silly...

A perfect impromptu evening. A+

our style family va-ca

We left our little farm on Monday for a short family vacation/visit to our central California's BIG family farm. And there was one over-arching theme to this vacation -riding... Riding bikes, riding ponies, riding quads, riding gators, riding the hot-walker... and so on.

We absolutely love to visit the big farm! We see all the familiar summer sights: alfalfa, corn, and grapes growing, dogs, dogs, and more dogs, all manner of farm animals, all manner of farm implements, the big old farm house, but mostly we love to see our aunts, uncles and cousins that we love so much. It is one of our family's favorite places to go. We even left Disneyland a day early one year to head back to the farm... call us crazy, I know...

Our kids spend hours playing with animals, running through sprinklers, riding things (of course), and doing some work to earn our keep. They start at dawn and don't stop until way after dark, falling into bed to rest up and do it all again tomorrow.

We so enjoyed this fun getaway, and are especially thankful for the family and friends that kept things going at our place while we were gone!

a beginning in the end.

I have never been good with endings. Never. I have an uncanny ability to detect the mid point of any vacation, holiday, lunch date, whatever. I know when the end is near. I'm like a human countdown clock. And that's not an easy way to live, because half of the time you feel your time is running out. The end is in fact near...

Now, since I am, well, me I have already started my internal countdown of the days of our summer. Each little milestone that marks that the end is rushing at top speed toward us. And I know all too well that the end of summer marks a beginning that is not for the faint of heart, a beginning of schedules and calendars, a beginning of that feeling that our life has taken on a life of it's own.

It's that feeling that you get when you are on a roller coaster climbing up that first big hill. You hear the click, click, click, click as you climb higher and higher. But it's the suspension in time and reality after reaching the top of the climb and you hear the clunk of the release of the wheel gripper thingys that is the killer. It's that split second where you are teetering on the top of the world. You suck in your breath. You eyes pop open briefly before they will certainly be slammed shut again. You know you're off, done for. There's no turning back.

Yeah, I'm kind of in that state today. We've had the talk with the kids, "With three weeks left what do you guys really, really, really want to do?" I've crossed all of those "summer" projects left undone off my list: dusting baseboards, organizing the pantry, obedience training Violet, on and on and on.

But, upon walking into the garden last night, I found a very unexpected gift, a sign that good will carry on in our life despite the ending of summer. And it came in the form of a sunflower.

For months we have been watching our sunflower plants grow: watering, weeding, watering, weeding... no flowers. But last night, perched at the very top of each stalk, shooting into the sky, we saw the spiky beginnings of the flowers. Signs of hope at the top of the world. A beginning in the middle of what seems like the end.

So, this time on this ride on this day as I face the end of summer, I make a choice to live differently. I will not scrunch my eyes shut, lock my death grip, hike my shoulders and scream all the way down. I choose to throw my arms into the air, toss my head back and laugh all the way through each dip and rise and turn and tumble that faces us. I choose to sit back and enjoy the ride!

state fair

This summer I was on the fence about whether to visit the California State Fair or not. But, then in the mail I received an invitation for 4H Alumni to come to the 4H booth at the fair. They are compiling pictures of 4Hers and their thoughts on 4H for a 100 year celebration project for the year 2013. How cool is that! I was really proud to have been and currently be part of an organization like 4H that has so much to offer and teach children about agriculture, leadership, responsibility, and hard work.

So, decision made. We packed up and trekked to the fair. We went to the 4H booth, of course. Bee and I were photographed together. RT chose to be shot with his buddy. Then off to the gardens, my favorite part of the fair. They were amazing! The vegetable planters and flowers were so cool. We got awesome ideas for trellises and cages and irrigation systems. Dorky, I know. But super cool to us. Those farmer/designers are so talented. I am green with envy.

And of course, when taking children to a fair there is the obligatory begging, usually for food on a stick or horribly overpriced lemonade. But no, with our kids it's not begging for the usual stuff. Oh no...

Most of the begging this year came from the younger child. She was begging for a dairy heifer. Yes, a calf. Begging to do a dairy project in 4H next year. And during the begging, her usual 1,000 questions on the subject were launched. So many questions that I finally said that I would get on Amazon.com when I got home and order her some books on 4H dairy heifers and different dairy cow breeds. That shut her up for awhile.

We watched the Guernsey show. We visited the dairy nursery. We watched the dairy vet students from UC Davis. We walked the dairy barns - Open and Junior. And we talked to our dairy 4H leader - yes, about a dairy heifer project.

Next year at the fair, I will welcome the begging for a stinking corn dog... Love that Bee.

summer math.

5 kids + 2 trucks + 2 air matresses + 4 tired parents + 100 laughs = 1 cool summer night at the drive-ins!

Henrietta goes broody.

Yesterday the kids noticed that Henrietta spent the day in the nesting box - very unusual for Henrietta. Henrietta is usually right in the middle of everyone's business. She is one of, if not "the" alpha hen. She and April, her wingman, were hatched in my classroom two years ago. So, they do believe that rule the farm and the roost...

So, for Henrietta to by camping out in a nesting box could only mean one thing... she is broody. Being broody means "in the mood" to sit on eggs. This has only happened one other time on our farm. Bessie went broody.

What usually happens is the hen lays an egg then gets settled on it and that's the end of it. They get extremely protective and puff up and peck you or other hens that come near. RT and Bee begged us to let her sit on eggs, so once we consented off they went to talk to our neighbor Chicken Jorge, the man with roosters...

After about ten minutes, back they came with eight hopefully fertilized eggs. I risked my arm to put them under Henrietta. She only pecked me a few times then she seemed good with it. Chickens don't care if they aren't their eggs. They're cool with whatever.

So, if all goes well with Henrietta, she will sit on the eggs for 21 days, only getting off of them every few days to eat, drink, go to the bathroom, and stretch her legs. But, you never know with chickens, she could up and change her mind, come to her senses about motherhood and run for the hills - later, eggs!

Our take is that nature will take it's course, and you don't mess with nature. We are just lucky enough to get a front row seat to a little hen house miracle or eight miracles, if we're lucky!

kids are funny!

It is not uncommon in our house to be greeted in the morning by a child with a rat stuffed into her sweatshirt pocket. Wrong, yes. Uncommon, no. It's also quite normal to find a child in our house watching T.V. while holding a chicken on their lap.

Country kids are funny that way. They just don't seem to see the same boundaries that other kids do. Why not carry a rat in your hood. Why not try to lead the goats into the kitchen. After all, "I was just coming in to get a drink of water and I didn't want to put the goats back yet..."

No goats in the house... I do draw that line...

It can also be very interesting living with country kids. They have no problem doing any outside chore in their pajamas. They are thrilled to trap and catch any bugs, frogs, or lizards. They know to never walk through a gate without closing it behind them - farm animals on the loose! Nothing can entertain them longer than a freshly tilled dirt patch.

Country kids awake to animals waiting to be fed and the sun waiting to shine. And they are soothed by the sound of crickets at bedtime, and pestered by the sounds of coyotes in the night.

Country kids know to empty the cuffs of their pants to get the shavings out before they come in the house. They know to drink all of their milk because a dairyman carefully cared for the cows that gave us that milk. They know that they are lucky to be living the dream of many, many children. And, certain country kids insist on leaving the corner cobwebs up in the barn doorway, even when it's cleaning day...because they are again reading Charlotte's Web.

Some Pig!

Some kids!

give thanks and praise

One of my most favorite things to do on Sunday afternoons is cook. There is something theraputic, cleansing, even spiritual about it. It's the one time in our otherwise busy week that I can think about what's in season, read new recipes, or just relish is making our favorite old ones. It's even more amazing when some of the ingredients come from your own little farm.

This afternoon was one such Sunday afternoon. For the first time (I'm embarrassed to say) I made my own pie crust and used our peaches to make tiny lattice peach pies. RT and I had picked up a lattice pie mold at William-Sonoma quite awhile back and I had yet to use it. Today seemed like the perfect day.

A delicious gift in the form of a tiny pie holding fresh peaches from our own trees, glazed with eggs from our own hens, and accompanied by vanilla ice cream made in our beautiful kitchen.

Now that's a Sunday blessing!

in the bag!

So, I may have stumbled onto the most delicious little hobby for myself. Way back in may at the county fair I spotted a gal carrying a tote bag made out of a feed sack. How clever is that, I think to myself. And the longer we stayed at the fair the more of these crazy bags I saw. So... I got to thinking... what if I try to make one, but what would I do with it? I have plenty of reusable grocery bags, Trader Joe's bags, even a Costco reusable bag. Don't need anymore grocery bags. So, I think to myself again, what if I doll them up a little and use them as a tote or even a purse... yeah, that's it! So, the fun begins...

What I mean by fun is not the process of sewing these crinkly, wrinkly bags - quite a feat. But the fun of the hunt... the hunt for the bags themselves. Virtually immediately I sunk to low depths as I started rummaging through trash cans at the fair to get these old feed bags. I put the word out with friends, I even went through the feed store's garbage... I know, I know... but I got two bags!

And to take things further, I started the super fun hunt for tiny vintage treats that I could incorporate into each bag to make each one truly unique: Antique street fair and antique shops here I come. And oh what fun: vintage buttons, embroidered dish towels designs, hankies, even 4 vintage sheriff badges imported from Germany. Who knew!

It's like the perfect little project: agriculture, vintage goodies, beautiful fabrics and funky design!

So, a big thank you to the blond lady in the poultry barn at the county fair carrying the cutesy feed bag tote! You've given me a purpose! Or at least a project!

is it summer yet?

Other than the fact than we've been out of school for a month and a half and we have had one week of hot weather, you would never know it's summer on California. We have tomato plants with no tomatoes. We have sunflower plants with no flowers. We have wild blackberry bushes on the lane with sour berries. We have rain, wind, and clouds...

You would never know it was summer... until this week. We have peaches!

Juicy,ripe, beautifully orangey yellowy, fuzzy peaches! And like any other summer they all come ripe within about 72 hours of each other. So, it never fails that we end up with about 300 ripe peaches.

Let the crumbles begin!! Peach crumble, sliced peaches on cereal, peaches for lunch, and homemade peach ice cream. Tomorrow Bee and I will try a new mini lattice mold peach pie recipe. Yum! All peaches, all the time. At least until I can peel, slice and freeze them all for the winter. Leaving out few to make more delicious treats: peach galette, peach popsicles, peach smoothies...

the fourth on the farm

It never fails that the fourth of July in California is a streaming hot holiday. 102 is predicted today, and if it's like the past few days it will indeed be stinking hot! So here's how we'll spend our fourth on the farm...

Pre-burning hot hours of the morning are spent: mowing the lawns, cleaning stalls and pastures, hosing down the barn, trimming dog toenails, washing manure stains off Tessy pony, making first batch of homemade peach ice cream (fruit from our trees), hosing down chairs around the campfire.

Full-blown sizzling afternoon hours will be spent: making second batch of ice cream (blackberries this time from the lane), trimming corn off the cob for roasted corn salad, watching recorded cooking competition shows ( the kids not me), running to get fireworks, turning the misters on for the animals.

Thankfully the tiny bit cooler evening hours will be spent: visiting with family and friends, BBQing, swimming, watching fireworks, sitting around the campfire, laughing, talking, playing, being generally happy to be an American!

the tree fort

In the far corner of our property, closest to the road, in the most inconvenient spot ever, a masterpiece has been created. The Tree Fort, RT's labor of love. Now, RT has been building things since he was old enough to hold two objects and stack them together. He is possibly one of the most creative kids I have ever known. Once when he was tiny, he built a city out of blocks on the floor - as many kids do. But, my clever RT rolled the ottoman behind the block city and lined the top of it with blue blocks. When we asked why he did such an odd thing he explained that the ottoman had to hold the sky - the blue blocks... Talk about creating the whole picture in your mind then recreating it for all to see.

RT is a very talented and special boy, as all mothers think their boys are. But in this particular case it's true! He has the most vivid and active imagination. He notices the details in things, whether it's a fabric texture, a color, a pattern in nature or a concept that isn't visual at all. He "gets" or appreciates the things surrounding him that most kids wouldn't even notice. I could go on and on about his kindness and sensitivity to the people and creatures in the world, his sense of humor and his love for those that are dear to him. But, I'll stick to the subject - one creative kid.

So, the tree fort has become RT's recent obsession - kind of like the Winchester Mystery House. We can usually hear the pounding of a hammer from far in the distant corner. The photos taken today captured the tree fort as it stands on this day only. I can guarantee that as my RT Boy dreams tonight, new and interesting additions will be envisioned and the hammer will once again be swinging tomorrow morning.