Life With The Crew

Prints

Hand and nose prints on the windows and doors.  Some people might wipe them off right away, but that isn't the sort of thing that I worry about.  We currently have a greasy little babe hand print on the kitchen window, in a location that she only could have reached by standing on the kitchen table.  I actually kind of like it there.  It means that she was curious enough about something in the outside world that she wanted to get as close as possible to check it out.  It means that her little brain was pondering something.  Or she just liked the feeling of her nose smushed against the cool glass.  Either way, it makes me smile.

Thankful Tuesday - Simple Snowy Pleasures

The past several days have been filled with simple pleasures...

-watching feathered fowl getting their first taste of real snow.  Only about four inches, but enough that the ladies and two gentleman needed a path shoveled for them.

-flapping feather prints that we discovered a mere foot from the chicken fence.  Luckily they were on the outside of the fence and the bird of prey missed his mark.  He was probably aiming for one of the many sparrows that live in our shed rafters.

-homemade hot chocolate heaped with fresh whipped cream (and a hint of cinnamon and nutmeg).  Yum.  I tell myself that I earned it carrying 40 pounds on my back through the snow.

-beautiful brilliant blue skies and a bundled babe on my back.  It was a magnificent day.

I am thankful for it all.  What are you thankful for today?

 

The Death of a Cedar Waxwing

On one of our walks today, the little babe and I and just one dog, marched up towards the woods.  Under a copse of white pine trees right next to the sidewalk, I saw something small and round lying on top of the dry brown needles and spattering of white snow.  I couldn't tell what it was, but it looked out of place.  Walking closer, I realized that it was a bird, hopefully dead and not just injured, because I had the "bird dog" Corgi with me and I didn't know how I'd get it home.  Unfortunately for the bird, it was definitely dead - rigor mortis and sub freezing temps making its little black bird legs stand straight at attention.  The bright lemon yellow tail feathers and tiny lipstick red dots on the wing feathers told me what it was right away - a Cedar Waxwing.  There was the pure black mask over its eyes, the yellow blush on the belly, the brown back feathers that looked dull and boring next to the gaudy trim details.  So beautiful.  There were several small marks on its body and a bit of blood, but the body was entirely intact.  Nothing had attempted to eat it.  I had the little babe strapped to my back and I was holding back the dog (who loves the feel of a small dead bird in her mouth), so I wasn't able to get down and give it a close inspection.  On our way back from the woods, the little babe wanted to look at it again.  She said that she wanted to see its face, so I used a small twig to turn over the stiff body.  

She said that it was a baby and maybe it fell out of a nest.  Where where was the Mom and Dad?  I said that might be a possibility, but that Cedar Waxwings normally travel in large flocks of many birds and that it was strange to find it there, since January isn't really the time of year that they make nests.  I told her that we often see things in nature that we wonder about, but that we might never know what really happened.  We have to look for clues, but a lot of times things will just remain a mystery.  So the death of the Cedar Waxwing was a mystery and a gift.  It gave us the opportunity to observe something at leisure that normally is only visible as a blur of flying feathers.  We went home and looked it up in the bird book - did you know that an adult Cedar Waxwing may regurgitate up to 30 choke cherries, one at a time, into the mouths of its babies?  (According to the National Audubon Society Field Guide to North American Birds - Eastern Region)  Amazing!

 

 

That Kind of Cold

It finally got cold - five blankets on the bed and still cold kind of cold.  47 F degrees in the kitchen first thing in the morning kind of cold.  Eggs left in the coop freeze and split open kind of cold.  Drawing in ice on the inside of the windows kind of cold.  Dish washing liquid is almost a solid kind of cold.  However, it has only been this cold for a week so there is nothing to complain about.  It IS January after all and it feels better to have these temps than the unnaturally warm 50 degrees we had a couple weeks ago.  (Last year was really cold for a long period of time.)  The cold simply makes me appreciate the heat and warmth so much more.

-The wood stove fan spinning so fast it looks like it could chop off the tip of my finger.

-Two hands wrapped about a cup of hot chai tea, feet buried in a fleece blanket.

-Digging through the hat and scarf bin and rediscovering knitted items from years past. (The scarf in the picture above is one of the first that I knitted using natural colored yarn bought at a local farmers market; the hat is my latest project from a skein of Jacob wool that I found in my stash).

-Wood, amazingly dry wood, that makes the wood stove burn so hot that my husband stands watch with a bucket of water.  (Though not a bad place to be standing on a frigid cold night.)

-Slanting rays of sunshine beaming warmth and light - I can actually feel the heat on my face.

-A knitting project for myself in wonderfully thick and soft Puffin - just squeezing it makes me feel warmer.

How are you keeping warm?

Just A Bit

Just a bit of snow, a little more than a dusting, but less than an inch.   As long as the sun is shining strongly, the chickens venture out just long enough to get a drink and stretch their wings, but otherwise they hang out in the coop.  The ducks are more cold hardy though and stay out in all weather.  I watched them during a mini white-out the other day, walking around with their necks stretched tall, seemingly not bothered at all by the frigid conditions.  Only when the sun goes down do they go into the coop.  However, they do spend more time lying on the ground, heads turned and tucked behind them.  I feel bad seeing them right on top of the frozen mud and snow, so I spread some pine shavings under a bush near the coop and that is their favorite spot.  They go back and forth between the water bowl and their little bed - dibble dabble, waddle waddle.  Come spring, we may have a foot of shavings in that one spot since I have to top it off with fresh shavings after each dusting of snow.  I don't mind - those two boys make me smile.

On the Hunt

 We were sitting in the car at a traffic light, soaking up the heat after an unplanned adventure to the arboretum on a frigid blue sky 19 F morning, which involved a walk through the wood and across a snowy field.  The little babe was almost asleep when suddenly the sky was filled with a chaotic frenzied river of black birds rushing across the sky in front of us.  At first I wasn't sure if they were bats, even though it was high noon - the way they were moving was like images I've seen of bats emerging from a cave.  It was amazing - they just kept coming, pouring out of the sky from our right and streaming overhead across the intersection.  I have seen large flocks of birds taking off together or gathering at a roosting spot for the night, but I have never seen anything like this.  They were trying to stay together, following the birds on either side of them, but it seemed like no one really knew where to go, they were just going somewhere FAST.  Then from the back seat, the little babe shouts - "A hawk!"  Sure enough my amazing little birder, there was a hawk streaking across the sky in the middle of the dark cloud of birds.  Luckily the traffic light remained red and I could continue gawking while also paying attention to the two lanes of traffic on either side of me.  Then the light changed and I turned left, happily in the same direction as the action.  I pulled into a parking lot and as several of the terrified birds landed in nearby trees, I saw that they were starlings.  We lost sight of the hawk and so headed home.  As I left the parking lot, I saw a hawk being chased in the opposite direction by three crows.  I don't know if it was the same one, his partner in crime, or another unrelated incident in the bird world.  I was totally stoked and the little babe seemed to understand how awesome an experience it was.  

I wondered how many of the other drivers had noticed what was going on.  I also wondered what birds think of us humans.  When they peer down with their bird's eye view, does our world look just as chaotic to them?  Do we look like crazed creatures, always on the go in our shiny metal vehicles?  Lines of traffic crisscrossing the land, day and night, always going somewhere.

I hope the hawk enjoyed his lunch.
 

(The feathers were found on a snowy woods walk.  Hawk?  Owl?  Beautiful gifts.)

 

Thankful Tuesday - 1.12.16

Today I am thankful for...

-the simple things that catch my eye and make me smile, in this case, a fluffy white duck feather.

-knitting something that my little babe actually WANTS to wear - a rainbow ruffled shawl.  It is another 22 Little Clouds.  This is my third one in less than two months.  I know, so boring, but knitting each one with a different type of yarn really makes it feel like a totally new project (except by now I have the 6 row pattern memorized!)  For this shawl, I used a large ball of hand dyed core spun wool that I had in my stash.  It was leftover from a short sleeve pullover sweater that I knit for the little babe last winter.  We recently went through my yarn stash, doing a bit of clean up and purging, and the little babe declared that she wanted her shawl to be made with the rainbow yarn.  So now she has it and she has been wearing it on her head like a little Russian babushka while she dances around the wood stove room.  While staying with friends recently, she saw their girls wearing shawls on their heads instead of hats, so I think there is a bit of role play going on.  

-a good loaf of bread.  I have been replacing kefir for all or half of the whey and the loaves have been really light with a slight tang to them.  Must husband told me I should write down the recipe, but it really isn't any different from the normal bread recipe I use.  I just use a different liquid depending on what I have on hand - whey, water, or kefir.

What are you thankful for today?

 

Frozen Leaves and Fresh Air

It sounded like the crinkling of old yellowed tissue paper or dry brittle phyllo dough that you have neglected to cover with a damp paper towel.  The frozen leaves, paper thin and various shades of brown, were crunching under my feet as I ran along the trail.  I haven't run in the woods for a while, sticking to the neighborhood streets while the hunters were on the prowl, but the wind was blowing pretty good this morning so I ducked into the woods for a little reprieve.  The sun was filtering through the bare branches and a couple of squirrels were the only things moving other than me.  My bulky wool cowl had been pulled up over my nose, almost touching my lower lashes, but in the shelter of the woods I could lower it a bit and suck in a couple breaths of fresh air.  

(Unrelated photos of our giant pumpkin and gourd covered in furry ice crystals.)

Two Eggs

I wish you could see the two eggs that I see, encircled by pine shavings in their individual nests - one in the right front corner, one in the right back corner.

I wish you could see the two eggs that I see, matte terracotta colored shells - one medium sized, one not quite that big.

I wish you could see the two eggs that I see, so fresh that they are still moist from their journey down the oviduct - one smooth and clean without a speck on it, one decorated with a wood shaving and a wet rumpled feather.

I wish you could see the two eggs that I see, cracked open into the cast iron skillet - one with some spices, one "plain, not spicy, just herbs".  

I wish you could see the two eggs that I see, filling bellies with good things for growing - one yellow yolk splashed with orange-y red hot sauce, one yellow yolk smeared into thick brick red homemade ketchup.

 

Thank you little red hens.

When the Sun Shines...

When the sun shines, but the temp is about 15 degrees F, it is a good morning for staying inside and getting busy in the kitchen, since the heat from the stove is definitely welcome.  Wednesday, the day after the Tuesday farmers market and our weekly trip to Farmer Jeff's for raw milk, the fridge was full.  I requested an extra gallon of milk so that I could make a batch of mozzarella and my husband picked up a quart of cream for butter.  The little babe and I spent last Wednesday morning in the kitchen doing the same thing (with good results - both for the food and the little babe's helping skills) and I was hoping for a repeat.  However, our house was about 10 degrees colder this week and the butter wasn't separately like it normally does.  I had small granules of butter instead of one big glob.  So I set the churner by the wood stove to warm up a bit and after 30 minutes of soaking up some heat, we were back on track, though the yield was a bit less than normal.  As I was feeding the little babe small bites of golden yellow butter from my fingers that were smeared with butter fat, I laughed thinking about how everyone in the '90s thought that butter was the evil demon and margarine was the healthy way to go. 

It was a good morning for mozzarella.  By now I don't have to keep the cheese making book in hand, just a quick glance to make sure I have the right amount of citric acid and rennet.  Mozzarella really is simple to make and a lot of fun because you get to eat the finished product so fast (if you follow the 30 minute mozzarella making process).  The little babe loves the freshly separated soft curds, before they are dipped in the hot whey and stretched.  

We all had a bit of fresh air after our kitchen time and now everyone is taking their afternoon siestas.  As I write this, four of the five dogs are sleeping in the wood stove room.  One lying on the slate tiles, his nose a mere 12 inches away from the front of the stove, the coals inside burning orange and red.  Two more on dog beds nearby and I hear snoring coming from the corner behind me, so I know that Lola is there.  Good food, tired dogs, hot wood stove, sleeping babe, and the shining sun - a good day.

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