Salty's Final Egg

 

Ol' Salty’s final egg.

Backyard farming has its highs and lows, its ease and challenges, its joys and sorrows.

And I am grateful for all of it.

🕊

Peace.

Pickled Eggs

Today I worked in the gardens, in the glorious mild heat of the August sunshine. I actually got to clean up the front yard bed a bit which, being mostly ornamentals, is the garden that gets the least attention.

I made time in the morning, when my little acre was still too damp from the evening rains, to work in a couple of art journals. Today was the first day in months I had two journals going and it felt good.

And before I headed out to the gardens and sunshine, I made another quart of pickled eggs. And I know someone will ask, so I'll tell you that I measure nothing. I mix some apple cider vinegar with water, sugar and salt, some garlic, black pepper corns and red pepper flakes in a pot. I heat it until it's just coming to the simmer and I pour it over the peeled hard-boiled eggs and cap them up to cool on the kitchen counter. Once cool they go in the refrigerator where rumor has it that they'll last nicely for months, if not years. I wouldn't know. These babies remind me why I want more laying hens.

That's what I made today.

Peace.

Tea and Time

Today was one of those days where plans change … and I rolled with it. It felt good. But, then again, I am fond of change. With some time in the afternoon freed up I brewed a pot of tea and sat outside in the brilliant, if not frigid, sunshine with a hot cuppa and enjoyed watching my chicksters enjoying their sand baths.  

When I returned indoors I took a few postcard-sized paintings that I had started a while back and finished them up. Made some other paint play, too.

I gathered my materials for tomorrow's Phoenix Fiber Festival at The Phoenix Rising Center in Thomaston, Connecticut and … made time to enjoy more tea.

Yeah. That's what I made today.

Joy d'œufs

I'm not sure if I ever mentioned that The Boy was building us a chicken coop. Well, he did, and this past weekend we visited some dear friends and came home with four hens. 

I love observing them as they wander around our little acre. I love gathering the eggs and creating meals and dishes with them. I love watching them meander back to the coop as dusk closes in and the light starts to fade. I love living simply, in as close a rhythm to Nature as I can muster.

With that, I have four pounds of beans waiting to be blanched for the deep freeze.

Peace.